Heart of Steele (2 page)

It was her voice, loud and shrill as she
stood in front of Steele and gestured wildly.

“Oh no. Tell me this isn’t on a website
already. It’s been less than an hour.”

“It came out just in time to hit the
afternoon celebrity buzz shows.” He pointed to the bottom of the
screen. “Eighty-three thousand views already. It’s hot news. TV,
radio, and a few dozen online sites.”

The phone bobbled in her nerveless
fingers.

He quickly caught it, capturing her hand
between his and the phone. “Careful, there. This old thing survived
one hit today. Might not withstand another.”

She looked at him, his rugged face so close,
she could smell mint on his breath. Was he talking about the phone,
or himself? Only an hour ago, she would have teased him with that
comment, but things were different, now. No more playful flirting.
She’d be lucky to get out of here without her hands cuffed behind
her back.

A woman’s scream came from the phone’s
speaker, but it wasn’t Tracy’s. She must have just hit Steele, and
there she was, storming away. In the video, he just stood there,
his fingers pressed to the side of his mouth, watching her stomp
across the sound stage in those crazy boots and Daisy Duke
shorts.

“Steele, I’m so, so sorry.” Mounting panic
stole her breath and blank spots popped in front of her eyes. “I
don’t know how to fix this.” She couldn’t catch a full inhale.

“Whoa, there.” He took his phone and eased
her back against the couch pillows. “Just concentrate on getting
air into your lungs.”

It took a few minutes, but the dizziness left
her. Her hand shook as she raised it to her forehead. “What should
I do?” She could drive home to Montana for a few days. Weeks? Would
it take weeks? Would this ever go away?

“That last call was from my agent, Rex
Barton. He’s got my PR people working on this, but they need some
time.” He stood, walked to the door, and spoke quietly to someone
outside of it.

Her gaze ranged the length of him. Tall, long
legs, tight jeans over his nice ass. His chest veed out from his
narrow hips, and in the tight green T-shirt, his broad shoulders
and big arms looked more like a bodybuilder’s than a country
singer’s.

Steele closed the door and turned toward her.
He slid his phone into his pocket. “The main gate is already
blocked by paparazzi.”

How would she get out? “I could borrow a wig,
maybe some clothes, or a pregnant belly costume.”

The uninjured corner of his mouth quirked up
slightly. “Creative.” He leaned against the wall. “But they’re
going to hound you until they get a story out of you, and Chase and
Reno and Joy deserve better than to have their good news spread
this way.”

“I promise.” She stood. “I won’t say
anything.”

He lifted his brows. “You have no idea how
bad they’ll make your life, Tracy.” Shaking his head, he stuck his
hands in his front pockets. “There’s only one option.”

“I have to stay here?” It’d be her prison
sentence for hauling off and smacking Steele.

A laugh huffed out of his lungs. “No. We need
to go into hiding.” He glanced around the room. “Somewhere a hell
of a lot more secure than here.”

“Secure? You mean the reporters can get in?”
She slung her purse over her shoulder.

“There’s always someone working here who’d be
willing to risk losing his job to sell a video to the media.” He
nodded toward the door. “It just happened to us.”

She glanced up at the security camera on the
ceiling. Were they watching now? Listening? Recording? “I can go
back to Montana.”

“No good. They’d follow you, make a ruckus in
your hometown. It would be rank bullshit for you and everyone you
know.”

She couldn’t let the paparazzi find her
hometown. Sooner or later, her family’s secret would leak out, and
her career would be over. Tracy laced her fingers into her hair and
tugged. “What do I do?”

“First of all, don’t panic.” His gaze shot to
her hand. “And don’t pull out any of that beautiful hair of
yours.”

Her hand dropped. “Easy for you to tell me
not to panic.” She paced to the makeup counter and back. “You’ve
got people to handle this for you, hide you, protect you.” Her
pacing became quicker. “I know I brought this on myself, and I
deserve the worst that happens to me, but I don’t—”

“Stop it.” He straightened and took a step
toward her.

She swung around so fast, her purse strap
slid off her shoulder and the bag hit the floor. “What?” He had no
right to tell her she couldn’t have a full-blown panic attack.

He held out his hands. “What I mean is, stop
trying to figure this out. It’s all planned.”

“What’s all planned?”

“We’re going to disappear together.” He took
his buzzing phone from his pocket.

“It’s just that simple?” Each time they’d
met, they’d flirted and exchanged intense looks, and she’d hoped he
would ask her out, but this was not even close to the dinner and
dancing she’d been hoping for. She picked up her purse and watched
him typing on his phone.

“Yep. We’re gonna head out together in my
car, change vehicles, then get out of town for a few days.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

He glanced up from his phone and those
intense eyes locked onto hers. “No.”

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.”

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 out 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.”