Heart of Steele

by Randi Alexander

  A pitiful laugh escaped her throat. “I can’t just leave.”

  “Why not?” His eyes narrowed. “Is there someone who’d be pissed that you went into hiding with me?”

  Was that jealousy? “No, but I’d need to tell my roommate.”

  “‘Roommate’ as in ‘boyfriend’?”

  “No.” She hadn’t expected him to act all possessive. They’d met at a party nearly a year ago, she’d agreed to do the video with him a few months after that, then when shooting started a couple days ago, he’d been kind and professional, but hadn’t made any personal advances toward her. He had no claim on her.

  “Clear your calendar for the next four days.” He went back to typing.

  “Four days?” The only thing on her schedule was an acting class and filming the video—which was now cancelled due to Steele’s injury. “I guess it’s clear, but why four days?” She stepped closer to him. “And where are we going?”

  He finished with his phone, put it in his pocket, and took her arm firmly in his hand. “I’ll tell you on the road. We need to get moving. Fast.” He grabbed the door handle. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Two

  Steele started to pull open the door. They had to get the hell out of there before the media got too frantic for their story. His fingers curved around the muscle on Tracy’s arm. He liked a woman with some strength to her.

  “Wait.” Tracy pointed to the makeup counter. “My bag.”

  He looked down her long, long legs to the sexy high-heeled cowgirl boots. He’d had a fantasy or two about those boots, and her in them.

  “Yeah, and you should change into better shoes.” He closed the door before releasing her. He’d keep an eye on her, though. She was still a flight risk.

  Pulling her big red bag from beneath the counter, she picked out a pair of slip-on sneakers then tugged off her boots.

  “Should I change clothes?”

  “No time. You can change on the road.” He gestured to where her tied-up shirt bared her trim abs. “Maybe pull that down.”

  She turned her back to him, as if untying her shirt was something private.

  Acting on impulse, he stuffed those wild boots deep into her bag. Picking it up, his gaze shot to where her shorts cupped tightly around her sweet little ass. It’d be hot to see her in those boots again, when they were alone. He let his libido run free. He’d like to grab those cheeks and bend her over...

  She cleared her throat.

  He lifted his gaze to her face and saw she was watching him in the mirror.

  Her mouth was set in a frown.

  He didn’t blame her for being uncertain. He was sneaking her off to an unknown destination, and staring at her ass like a horny fuck. “Ready?”

  Sliding her feet into her sneakers, she grabbed her purse. “Okay.” Her voice shook. “Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” Her hand grabbed at her hair again. “I mean, if people know we left together, won’t that just start more rumors?”

  “That’s been covered. I’ll tell you about it in the car.” He opened the door. “Ready?”

  Three big security guys stared back at them.

  Tracy sucked in a breath. “Ready.”

  They followed one of the guards out into the studio, the other two trailed behind them. The huge building had been cleared of people, and Steele’s newest purchase, a black, 1967 Barracuda, sat facing the closed overhead door.

  Opening her car door for her, Steele gave her a smile. “It’s going to work out.”

  A wrinkle formed between her brows, but she nodded as she slid into the low-slung car.

  He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

  The first guard pressed a button on the wall and the overhead door started rattling upward. “That white truck.” He pointed to an unmarked pickup. “Follow him, he’ll take you out the back way and get you headed east on the freeway.”

  Steele held out his hand, and the guard shook it. “Thanks.” Opening the driver’s door, he tucked Tracy’s bag behind his seat. “Call me if anything develops on that employee.” The studio was interrogating the sound tech who had taken the video, hoping to determine whether he was a plant from a tabloid.

  “I’ll do that, sir.” He stood back as Steele slid into his car, closed the door, and turned the ignition.

  The deep, throaty purr of the engine, the power-packed vibration of the vehicle at his command, sent his blood racing. Glancing at Tracy, he couldn’t think of a better scenario than her in his slick car, heading toward his isolated cabin for four days.

  Steele popped the clutch and shifted into gear. The car sprang forward with the agility of a panther.

  Tracy pulled her seatbelt around her and fastened it.

  He smiled. Yeah, despite his concern over the video, the asshole who sold it to the media, and the woman who hauled off and belted him, this might just be a hell of a lot of fun. He should be in LA, but he’d worked remotely before. He’d have to allow his people to do their jobs. He followed the truck, as instructed, and turned the radio on low. A classic rock channel.

  The last few days while they filmed the music video, he’d kept it all-business, but his body reacted to hers only. The other four women in the video didn’t even register on his radar. Tracy kept him revving hot and wanting to make a move. This opportunity was one he wouldn’t pass up.

  Steele followed the truck as it left the studio property via a nearly unrecognizable gate, and started winding through side streets.

  He couldn’t decide if her attack—and the subsequent viral video—had been a disaster, or a godsend. Glancing over at her, he watched her texting on her phone. She was a sexy, beautiful woman, but she had qualities that attracted him like a bee to a flower. She was a hard worker, kind and giving, a little shy and uncertain, but always intelligent.

  Touching his tongue to his puffy lip, he grimaced. Almost always intelligent. But damn if he wasn’t fascinated by that spitfire burst from her. Defending her friend and her friend’s baby like an avenging angel.

  Hell, he shouldn’t have been arguing with his dad out in the open like that. He needed to keep his private shit private. And he had a dumpster load of shit to deal with right now. A bastard half-brother he just found out about. A father and sister who wanted to welcome the guy into the family. Thank God his mother had passed away before all this came out.

  The worst issue was that his half-brother was also one of his best friends. Ex-best friend, more accurately, after the way Steele had pushed him away and shut him out. “Fuck.”

  In his peripheral vision, he saw Tracy’s head turn.

  He held up a hand. “Nothing, sorry. Just lost in my own sludge pond.”

  She put her phone down and turned in the seat to face him. “This is going to sound ridiculous considering...” She gestured toward the windshield where the white truck was turning down a narrow, dark alley. “But if you want to talk about it, I’m here.” Her smile seemed tentative, as if she wasn’t sure of his reaction.

  Downshifting to take the corner, Steele let her offer sink in and calm him. “Thanks. I’m not sure you’d want to hear it.” His worst fear, that the news of his bastard brother would be leaked to the press, kept him from unloading his worries on her. He just didn’t know her well enough to trust her. Yet.

  He just didn’t trust easily. The only reason Chase knew about his unwelcome connection to Ryder was because the three of them were in the room when Ryder’s mother’s attorney’s letter caught up to his brother, and he read it out loud.

  He trusted the shit out of Chase, and if there was one other person he truly wanted to trust, that’d be Tracy. But that’d be a hell of a way to start a relationship. Steele wasn’t a guy who opened up, even if the bullshit about his half-brother was constantly on his mind.

  Ryder Landry. The new kid making a name in country music, who he and Chase had taken in years ago, and helped reach the top of the charts. Then, six months ago, Ryder, Steele, and their father found o
ut the truth.

  Steele had seen the look on Ryder’s face. Complete shock. His heart had gone out to the guy, but later, his brain kicked in. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that Ryder had infiltrated Steele’s inner circle, then out of nowhere finds out they were brothers. It still bothered him.

  “I understand.” Tracy slid around to face forward. “But I’m a good listener, and I can keep a secret.”

  “Yeah, I guess you can. You knew about Reno’s baby all this time, and never said a word.”

  The pickup pulled onto the shoulder near the entrance ramp to the freeway, and the driver stuck his arm out the window and gave them a quick wave.

  Tracy waved back to the man.

  Most of the actresses Steele had dated would have just ignored the guy. Tracy was polite, kind, thoughtful. One special lady.

  Shifting, Steele hit the gas pedal and the car roared to life, accelerating and merging with traffic, the engine smooth as a rocket.

  “Oh, wow.” Tracy sat back in her seat, her eyes wide. “This baby has some power.”

  “Three eighty-three with a four-barrel carb.” He rattled off the car’s stats, not thinking about who he was talking to.

  “Nice. Is she all original?” Her hand glided over the front of the dashboard.

  “Uh huh. Had her reconditioned, but it’s all factory parts.” When he’d seen the car in the back of a barn near his Texas ranch, he’d paid three times what it was worth, but he had to let this baby run again. She didn’t deserve to be retired.

  “Does this model have posi?”

  His head swiveled and he stared at her. He’d just learned about the positraction, the forerunner to all-wheel-drive.

  “You know.” She rotated her index fingers around each other. “Limited slip differential in the rear end?”

  “Yes, I know posi.” He brought his attention back to the road. “How the heck do you know about cars?”

  She shrugged. “My dad was a mechanic.” Letting out a sigh, she shrugged. “He loved old cars like this.”

  “Loved?” He changed lanes and sped to near-posted speed, which was a small miracle on an LA freeway.

  After a quiet minute, she cleared her throat. “He passed away a few years ago. Heart problems.”

  “I’m sorry, Tracy.” He laid his palm on top of her hand on the seat. He felt her tense for a moment, then relax. “You have other family?”

  “Yes, in northern Montana.” She spoke in a quiet voice. With a sigh, she turned her hand so they were palm to palm.

  Her action sent a warm rush through him, all the way to his chest.

  “You mentioned your father.” Tracy leaned closer to him.

  “Mm hm. Dad and I run the family ranch together.” Although lately, with his singing career, it had been Dad and the foreman running the ranch. “I have an older sister who’s married to a banker in town, and they have two kids.”

  “Nieces? Nephews?”

  He glanced at her and her smile was infectious. “One of each, Gage is four and Charlotte is two.” Through his grin, he took a breath, love for those little twerps choking him a little. Since they were babies, Steele had spent time with them. A few times, he and his dad had even babysat at the ranch. Now, the kids had ponies there, and he’d been teaching them to ride. “They’re great, but I don’t get to see them enough.”

  “And your mother?” She squeezed his fingers.

  Traffic slowed and he pulled his hand from hers to downshift. “She died fifteen years ago. A car crash.” Her beautiful face slid into his memory, quickly replaced by the flashing lights on the sheriff’s car that flashed on and off of the twisted metal that was left after two cars collided head-on in the middle of the night.

  “I’m sorry, Steele.”

  “It was a long time ago.” He shook it off. "What do you know about throttle bodies?”

  They talked for more than twenty miles about engines, bodies, shifters, paint, and rust. She even taught him a few new things about cars. Of course, the responsibilities that came with owning half his family’s ranch on the eastern side of Texas ensured that his expertise was in farming, stock, and water rights, not cars.

  Traffic thinned as they headed out of LA.

  “You’re going to let me drive her sometime, right?” Tracy gave him an angelic grin.

  “No way in hell.” He laughed. “I spent two years’ income buying her and having her fixed up.” He patted her thigh twice. “But I’ll let you sit behind the wheel for a couple minutes.”

  She crossed her arms, smiling. “You’re a mean man, Steele McLairn.”

  He’d never been mean, until lately. He’d been a tough but fair ranch boss, a hard-driving director with his band, and a strong advocate for talented musicians. Since finding out his father had sired Ryder while cheating on his mother, his sister called him an ass, his father berated him for his coldness toward his half-brother, and even Chase had asked him to give Ryder a break. He gripped the wheel and checked for the exit sign to the hotel.

  None of them understood what was at stake for him. No one could see beyond today, or comprehend how all their futures would change if he gave in and acknowledged Ryder. The country music fan base was traditional, family oriented. Steele had marketed himself as a conservatively raised man, hiding nothing, and proud of his lineage. Country’s Real Steele McLairn. Shit, he would look like a liar. And a fool.

  Worse than that, hauling out a bastard brother and parading him around would spark a firestorm of investigation. His family would be hauled into the spotlight, and that just made him want to put his fist through a wall.

  Hell, even Tracy had heard him at his worst today, cussin’ out his dad. “You don’t think very highly of me, do you.” Shit, where had that come from? He’d just told her he didn’t want to spew his feelings out. And then that crap had come flying from his mouth.

  She turned to face him. “Why do you say that?”

  He recognized the typical analytical form. Answer a question with a question. Had she been in therapy? He’d gone to a few sessions after his mother had died. His dad thought it’d help his sister and him, but when Steele had moved to Nashville, his life started racing too fast, and he never took the time for more therapy.

  “You just assumed, circumstantially, that I was advising Chase to leave the woman he loves and abandon his child.” He frowned at her. “We don’t know each other all that well, you and I. But you thought you knew me well enough to yell at me and take a swing.”

  Tracy slumped back in her seat. A small sound came from her mouth and she closed her eyes.

  Steele spotted the exit to the hotel, and eased into the right lane, then took the exit ramp.

  In minutes, arid land gave way to trees and grasses as the elevation increased.

  “No, you’re right. We don’t know each other very well.” She rubbed her palm on her thigh. “And I don’t blame you if you never want to see me again after this whole running and hiding thing is over.”

  Would he want to explore more than just a sexual relationship with someone who exploded the way she had? She’d said she never hit anyone before. Did he believe that?

  She turned her head to face him. “But if you’d just give me a chance to...” Looking around, she seemed confused. “Where are we?”

  He gestured ahead a few hundred yards to the closed gates of the fancy resort he owned a majority share of. Cascade Valley. He pulled up and stopped. On his left, the door of the guard building opened.

  Her lips formed into a little circle and her eyes opened wide. “Really? I’ve heard of this place.” She looked down at her shorts. “Oh heck.” She immediately reached back for her bag.

  Steele couldn’t help smiling at her quick change of mood.

  “What’s this?” She held up one of the boots he’d swiped.

  “Thought they might come in handy later.” He rolled down his window.

  “Mr. McLairn.” The uniformed guard clicked his remote and the heavy gates slid silently open.
“We’ve been expecting you. Welcome, sir. Ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat.

  Tracy’s head swung to look at him, her lap full of clothes and small bags. “Thank you.” She graced him with a smile.

  The guard paused a moment, looking at her. Then he smiled back.

  Steele didn’t blame him. Her smile, those sparkling green eyes. She was spectacular. He shifted and accelerated through the gates and onto the property. Acres of wooded land surrounded the valley. Mountain springs fed the river and reservoir, allowing world-class golf courses, tennis courts, pools, resort buildings, and best of all, the stables he’d commissioned.

  “Drive slow, please.” The sound of a zipper came from the passenger seat. “And don’t look.”

  He turned his head toward her just as she lifted her butt and slid her shorts down to her knees. Her white thong panties clung to her slim hips and cute ass.

  The blood rushing from his brain to his cock nearly blinded him, and he jerked the wheel.

  Tracy laughed as she pulled her shorts down her calves and off her feet. “Sorry. I’m so used to changing in a room full of models and actors... I should have warned you sooner.”

  Forcing himself to watch the road, and only the road, Steele swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths. “Despite what you might have heard about this place...” He shifted his hips to relieve some of the pressure of his cock pressing hard against his fly. “This isn’t a nudist resort.”

  Chapter Three

  Tracy laughed. Steele’s dry sense of humor always took her by surprise. She unfolded her white capris and smoothed out the wrinkles. She looked around at the thick woods. “So this is why you never told me where we were going. I would have insisted on stopping at home for better clothes.” She slid her feet into the casual pants and arched up to pull them up over her hips.

  “Nope. I never told you because you never asked again.” He gripped the wheel with both hands, staring intently ahead, and not at her exposed flesh.

  “You’re a very literal person, aren’t you.” Unzipping a small bag, she pulled out a brush and ran it through her hair. “I’d like to talk more about what you just said, though.” He’d said it for a reason. She’d not only hurt him physically, but emotionally as well.