Hidden Pleasures (2 page)

Six months later

“W
ill any of my sons ever marry?”

Galen refused to look up from reading the documents that were spread out on his desk. He didn’t have to glance at Eden Tyson Steele to know she was on a roll. Ever since Donovan’s wedding, his mother had been swept away by wishful thinking. She had witnessed the ceremony, heard the wedding music and seen how happy the bride and groom were. Since then she’d felt something was missing in her life, especially because Galen’s kinfolk in Charlotte could now claim that all the North Carolina Steeles, both male and female, had gotten hitched.

He’d gotten a call earlier from Mercury warning him that their mother was making house calls to each of her sons. Her message was consistent and pretty damn clear. She wanted daughters-in-law. She wasn’t pushing for grandbabies yet, but the brothers figured that craving wouldn’t be long. First she had to work on getting them married. “Galen?”

He breathed out a deep sigh. There was no way he could ignore her question any longer. Besides, he figured that the sooner he gave her an answer, the quicker she would move on to the next son.

He glanced up and gazed into eyes identical to his and those of his five brothers. They might have Drew Steele’s features and most of his genes, but their eyes belonged to Eden Steele all the way. And Drew would be the first to admit that it had been Eden’s eyes that had captured his attention and then his heart. “Yes, Mom?”

“Will any of you ever marry?”

He fought back a smile because he knew for his mother this was not an amusing moment. She was as serious as a heart attack whenever she broached the subject of her sons’ marital status.

Galen leaned back in his chair and gave her his direct attention, which he felt she deserved, even if she was asking him something he’d rather not address again. “I can’t speak for everyone else, but my answer to your question is no. I don’t ever plan to marry.”

Her expression indicated his response had been one
she hadn’t wanted to hear. Again. “How can you say that, Galen?”

“Easily.”

Seeing her agitation, he went on to say, “Look, Mom, maybe saying I’ll never marry is laying it on rather thick, so let’s just say it’s not in my immediate future. Dad was almost forty when the two of you married, and everyone had given up on the idea he’d ever settle down and stop chasing skirts. So maybe there’s hope for me yet.”

He couldn’t help but smile. What he’d said sounded good and should hold her for a while, but with the scowl on her face, he wasn’t so sure. His mother was a beautiful woman and he could see how Drew Steele had taken one look at her and decided she was the best thing since gingerbread. There was a ten-year difference in their ages and according to Drew, the former Eden Tyson, a fashion model whose face graced a number of magazines worldwide, had made him work hard for her hand. And when they’d married, Drew had known his womanizing days were over and that Eden would be the only woman for him for the rest of his life.

Galen doubted such a woman existed for him. He had yet to meet one who could knock him off his feet…unless it was to make him fall flat on his back in their bed. He enjoyed women. He enjoyed making love to them. He enjoyed whispering sweet nothings in their ears. There was not one out there he would sniff behind other than to relieve the ache behind his zipper. What could he say? He was one of Drew’s boys.

Most people in Phoenix either knew or had heard
about “those” Steele boys. While he was in high school, most mothers had tried keeping their daughters behind lock and key. It never worked. Chances were those he missed out on had fallen for the likes of Tyson, Eli, Jonas, Mercury or Gannon. No female was safe from that lethal Steele charm.

That lethal Steele charm…

Too bad he hadn’t had the time to lay it on that woman in New York. The same woman he couldn’t get out of his mind. When they’d gotten back to the hotel for the reception, he’d actually glanced around for her, hoping that perhaps she’d change her mind about leaving. He’d even gone so far as to wish that perhaps she’d missed her flight and had to come back. No such luck. But just for him to hope that much bad luck on anyone proved what an impact the woman had made on his senses.

“You and your brothers are not your father, Galen.”

“No, but we are his sons,” he said, holding his mother’s gaze. “Dad didn’t marry until he found that special woman, so I’d say the same will hold true with the six of us.”

“And I hope when she comes along, the six of you won’t screw things up.”

He chuckled. “Like Dad almost did?” Of course he’d heard the story about how their father had refused to accept his fate and ended up pushing Eden away. By the time he’d come to his senses, she had left the country to do a photo shoot somewhere in Paris. Panicked that he had lost her forever, he had tracked her down and asked her to marry him. To some the story might sound
romantic, but to Galen it was a good display of common sense on his father’s part. His mother was world-class.

“So, Mom, where’s your next stop?” he asked, throwing out the hint that their little talk had come to a close.

She sighed in resignation and tossed back the hair from her face. “I guess I’ll drop by and see Tyson. This is his day off from the hospital.”

Galen smiled. “You might want to call first. He probably has company.” Usually any day off for Tyson meant a day spent in bed with some woman.

His mother made a face before waving her hand at his words. “Whatever,” she said it in that I-don’t-care-what-I-catch-him-doing voice.

He stood and came around his desk to give her a hug. “You do know that I love you and enjoy your visits, don’t you, Mom?”

His mother sighed. “I won’t give up hope on any of you, especially you because you’re the oldest.”

He lifted a brow and wondered what that was supposed to mean. She would have it easier marrying Gannon off than him. Galen had been out in the world the longest and still enjoyed sampling what was out there, whereas Gannon was just getting his feet wet. His mother would best grab him now before he discovered the true meaning of women.

“I’ll make a deal with you, Mom,” he decided to say, reaching out and gently squeezing her hand. “If I ever meet a woman who can hold my interest, you’ll be the first to know.”

Brittany sank into the chair opposite the man’s desk. Luther Banyon was the attorney who’d sent her the recent letter, advising her that Gloria McIntyre, the woman who’d sent her that handwritten letter over six months ago, had died of ovarian cancer at the age of forty-four. That meant Gloria had only been sixteen when she’d given birth to Brittany.

Her tongue pressed against her sealed lips as she thought about how unfair it was to lose the mother she’d only just found. The letter from Ms. McIntyre had answered a lot of questions Brittany had always had. She’d known she had been given up at birth. That had been evident from her trek from foster home to foster home during her adolescent years.

There had been a time in her teens when she’d desired to find her birth mother, but after a while she’d gotten over it and had accepted things as they were. She’d moved on with her life, finishing high school at the top of her class and going on to college, then taking out a loan and opening Etiquette Matters.

“Now, Ms. Thrasher, we can begin.”

Mr. Banyon pulled her out of her reverie. She had arrived in Phoenix a couple of hours ago, picked up a rental car and had come to his office straight from the airport.

“As stated in my letter, Gloria McIntyre died last month. I hadn’t known she’d hired a private investigator to locate you until after she’d passed. That explains some things.”

Brittany raised a brow. “What does it explain?”

“What she’s been doing with her money for the past five years. When she died, her savings account was down to barely anything. And her home, although it has been paid off for years, was almost in foreclosure due to back taxes.”

The man paused and said, “The doctor gave her five years to live and she used every day of those five years trying to find you. I’m so sorry her time ran out before the two of you could meet. She was a fine woman.”

Brittany nodded. “Were you her attorney for long?”

“For over twenty years. She was married to Hugh McIntyre, but he died close to eight years ago. They never had any children. I guess it was after Hugh died that she decided she wanted to find you, the child she’d given away at sixteen.”

Brittany didn’t say anything. And then, “Mr. Banyon, your correspondence said she left a sealed letter for me.”

“Yes, and she also left something else.”

“What?”

“Her home. Though I must tell you that although it’s been willed to you, there’s a tax lien on it and it’s due to be auctioned off tomorrow.”

Brittany’s chest tightened. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes. So if you want your mother’s home, you arrived in the nick of time.”

Brittany nodded. Yes, she wanted her mother’s home because it was the key to who her mother was and why
and how she’d made the decision that she had over twenty-eight years ago.

“And the items in the house?”

“Everything is still intact. However, house and contents are due to be auctioned. If someone else outbids you, you will have to negotiate with them and reach some sort of agreement or settlement as to the contents. All the city is concerned about is making sure the back taxes are recovered.”

“I understand. Where will the auction take place tomorrow and what time?”

“I’ll have my secretary provide you with all the information you need. Now if you will excuse me, I’ll get that letter.”

Brittany pulled in a deep breath at the same time she felt her heart soften. She’d known from the last letter that Gloria McIntyre wasn’t one to say a lot, but what she did say had a profound impact. This letter was no different.

“Are you all right, Ms. Thrasher?”

Brittany glanced up and met Mr. Banyon’s concerned
gaze. “Yes, I’m fine. Do you know how much the back taxes amount to?”

“Yes, we’re looking at almost five years’ worth,” he said, browsing through a stack of papers. “Here we are. It comes to close to seventy thousand dollars.”

Brittany blinked. “Seventy thousand dollars!”

Mr. Banyon nodded. “Yes. Although the house itself isn’t all that large, it sits on a whole lot of land and it has its own private road.”

Brittany swallowed deeply. Seventy thousand dollars was more than she’d expected to part with. But it really didn’t matter. She’d manage it. The business had had a good year. Paying the back taxes to gain possession of her mother’s house was something she had to do. Something she wanted to do.

Her mother.

The thought made her quiver inside. Her only regret was that they’d never met. She could only fantasize about the type of relationship they would have shared if there had been more time. Just the thought that the reason the taxes had gotten delinquent in the first place was because her mother had placed locating her as her top priority was almost overwhelming.

“Is there a way I can get inside the house?” she asked Mr. Banyon.

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, there is not. It’s locked and the keys have become the property of the city of Phoenix. They will be given to whoever becomes the new owner tomorrow. Ms. McIntyre’s home is a rather
nice one, but I can’t and won’t try to speculate as to who else might be interested.”

Nodding, she stood. “WelI, I intend to do everything in my power to make sure I become the new owner tomorrow.”

“I know that’s what Ms. McIntyre would have wanted and I wish you the best.”

A few moments later after leaving Mr. Banyon’s office, Brittany punched Gloria McIntyre’s address into the car’s GPS system. The directions took her a few miles from the Phoenix city limits, to a beautiful area of sprawling valleys.

She turned off the main highway and entered a two-lane road lined by desert plants. When the GPS directed her down a long private road, she slowed her speed to take in the beauty of the area covered in sand and tumbleweeds. Although this was the first week of December, the sun was shining bright in the sky. When the private road rounded a curve at the end of the drive, she saw the house with a wrought-iron fence around its ten acres of land. With all the cacti and a backdrop of a valley almost in the backyard, the scene looked like a home on the range.

She stopped the car and a feeling of both joy and pain tightened her chest. This was the house her mother had lived in for over twenty years and was the house she had left to her.

Mr. Banyon was right. It was modestly sized but it sat on a lot of land. The windows were boarded up; otherwise, she would have been tempted to take a peek
inside. Several large trees in the front yard provided shade.

Something about the house called out to her, mainly because she knew it was a gift from a woman whom she’d never met but with whom she had a connection nonetheless. A biological connection.

As she put her car in gear to drive away, she knew whatever it took, when she left the auction tomorrow, this house would be hers.

G
alen had never been one not to take advantage of golden opportunities. Plus, he’d discovered a fascination with the auction mart since the day he’d bid on his first old muscle car. Snagging another one cheap was what drew him to the newest Phoenix auction today.

In addition to the car auction going on, there were several other things up on the auction block. Foreclosed homes, jewelry, electronic equipment, music memorabilia and trading cards. None of those items interested him. All he wanted was that classic 1969 Chevelle he’d heard about. After which, he would return home and continue to work on Sniper, the video game SID planned to unveil at the Video Game Expo in Atlanta in the spring.

Right now the biggest thing on his, Eric and Wesley’s minds was the success of Turbine Force, the game they
had debuted earlier that year. Because of an extremely good marketing campaign—thanks to his brother Jonas’s firm—at present Turbine Force was the number-one-selling video game this holiday season.

He slowed his pace when his cell phone went off and pulled it out of his back pocket. “Yes?”

“Where are you?”

Galen rolled his eyes. “If I wanted you to keep up with me, Eli, I would be tweeting on Twitter.”

“Funny. So where are you?”

Galen glanced at his watch. The auction for the Chevelle was starting in twenty minutes and he needed to be in place. “I’m at the auction mart. That Chevelle I was telling you about goes on the block today. What’s up?”

He engaged in all-about-nothing chitchat with his brother for all of five minutes. Eli was the attorney in the family and handled SID’s business concerns.

After putting away his cell phone, Galen headed toward the auction area. Adrenaline rushed through his veins. There was no telling how many car enthusiasts would be there waiting to buy and—

“Brittany Thrasher! I can’t believe it!”

“Nikki Cartwright! I can’t believe it, either.”

Galen couldn’t believe it, either, when the two women held their little reunion right in the middle of the floor and blocked the aisle. Anyone trying to maneuver around them had to squeeze by the huge decorated Christmas tree standing front and center.

He was about to follow the crowd and walk around
the two when something about one of the women caught his attention. He slowed his pace and stared. He knew the one in the business suit. She was the woman whose cab he’d hijacked in New York six months ago. He’d recognize her anywhere, although now she was smiling instead of frowning.

Hell, he’d had a mental snapshot of her since that day. There were some things a man couldn’t forget and for him a gorgeous woman topped the list. At that moment a primitive instinct took hold of him and he drew in a deep breath, absorbed in the implication of what it meant. Whatever else, he was no fool. He knew the signs, fully understood the warning, but it was up to him if he wanted to heed them. Desire was a potent thing. Too much of it could get you into trouble.

He’d desired women before, hundreds of times. But there was something about this woman that was tempting him all the way to the bone.

He stepped out of the flow of the crowd and moved off to the side, feigning interest in the rack of brochures in front of him. As he pretended to read a brochure that listed over fifty Elvis items being auctioned, he listened to the women’s conversation. Okay, eavesdropping was rude, but hadn’t this same woman told him he needed to be taught manners?

He would consider it research. He wanted to know who she was and why was she here causing all sorts of crazy thoughts to go through his mind. He glanced over at her. She had tilted her head to the side while talking and he thought there was beauty in her neck, a
gracefulness. And he liked the sound of her voice. Hell, he’d liked it that day in New York. He’d just been in too much of a rush to truly appreciate it at the time.

The last thing he wanted was to be seen, in case she remembered him, more specifically his lack of manners. And he knew firsthand that some women had long memories. They also were driven to get even. Galen wasn’t up for that today. To be honest, he was distracted. He had a project in his garage that needed his absolute attention, so technically he had no business being here. But he had to bid on that ’69 Chevelle.
The Chevelle.

He glanced at his watch and moaned. The bidding had already begun and more than likely the entry doors had been closed. He had missed out on the opportunity to own the car he’d always wanted because of his attention to this woman. Now he’d be forced to do an off-bid for the car, which meant if others were interested, the bidding war could go on forever. He pulled in a disgusted breath. They said payback was a bitch. Was losing out on that Chevelle his payback for the grief he’d caused the woman six months ago? He wasn’t ready to accept his punishment.

He wasn’t ready to do anything but find out who she was and why their paths had crossed yet again. Not that he was complaining. He listened more closely to their conversation to try to find out as much as he could about her.

There was a reason he was drawn to her. A reason why such a cool, calm and reserved sort of guy like
himself would love to cross the floor, interrupt their conversation and pull her into his arms and kiss her. To be quite honest, he wanted to do more than just kiss her.

He figured he was going through some sort of hormonal meltdown. Over the years he’d learned to deal with an overabundance of testosterone. But he was definitely having trouble doing so today.

After finding out who she was, he might decide to come out of hiding and make a move. They were not in New York, squabbling over a cab. She was in Phoenix, the Steele neck of the woods, and for her that could be a good thing or a bad thing.

Brittany couldn’t help but smile as she stared at Nikki. It had been over twelve years since they’d seen each other. At fourteen they had been the best of friends and had remained that way until right before their sixteenth birthdays when Nikki’s father, who’d been in the navy, had received orders to move his family from the Tampa Bay area to San Diego.

They had tried staying in touch, but in Brittany’s junior year of high school, when Mrs. Dugan got sick, Brittany had been sent to another foster home. During that first year with the Surratts, she had been too busy getting adjusted to her new family and new school to stay in contact.

“You look the same,” she couldn’t help but say to Nikki. She still had her curly black hair and her energetic chocolate-brown eyes. She truly hadn’t aged at all.

“And so do you,” Nikki replied on a laugh. “Are we really twenty-eight already?”

Brittany chuckled. “Afraid so. So what are you doing in Phoenix?”

“I live here now. After I graduated from high school in San Diego I followed a group of friends to the university here. I got a job with a photography firm after I graduated and I’ve been here since.”

“How are your parents?”

“They’re fine and still living in San Diego. Dad’s retired now and driving Mom nuts. My brother Paul got married and has two kids, so the folks are happy about that.”

Brittany nodded. “Well, I’m still single. What about you?”

“Heck, yes. I’m building a career in freelance photography and not a career of heartache due to men. And that’s all the single guys in this city will give you. Now tell me about you, and please don’t say you’ve been living in Phoenix all this time and our paths never crossed.”

Brittany smiled. “No, I just arrived in town yesterday. In fact this is my first visit to Phoenix.” And because Nikki had been her best friend during that phase of her life when she’d wanted to know her mother, she couldn’t help but say in an excited voice, “And I’m here because of my mother.”

Nikki’s face lit up like a huge beam of light, and the smile and excitement made her face glow. “You found her?”

“No, actually she found me.” Then sadness eased into Brittany’s eyes when she added, “But we didn’t get a chance to meet before she died.”

“Oh, Brit,” Nikki said, giving her a huge hug. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

Brittany found herself telling Nikki the entire story and why she was in Phoenix and there at the auction.

“Well, I believe things will work out for you. There are so many foreclosures out there, you might not have much competition in the bidding. I wish you luck because I know how much getting that house means to you. It’s your only link to your mother.”

Brittany nodded. “I’ll do anything to get it. I already got my loan approval letter, so the money is not a problem. I just hope things go smoothly.”

Nikki smiled. “And they will. I’ll keep my fingers crossed. Now tell me, are you still living in Tampa? And what do you do there?”

“I’m still in Tampa and I own Etiquette Matters, a mobile etiquette school. I and the ten people I employ travel all over the country and hold seminars and teach classes. Each of us is assigned a certain section of the country. Things are going great because a number of corporations have begun introducing business etiquette and protocol as part of their corporate image training.”

“Wow, that sounds wonderful. So when can we get together? There is so much that we need to catch up on,” Nikki said.

“What about dinner later? If everything works
out—and I’m keeping positive that it will—I’ll have reason to celebrate. And I plan on staying for a couple of weeks when I get the house. I want to move in and spend time there, knowing it was where my mother once lived.”

Shivers of excitement raced up Brittany’s spine when she added, “And what you said earlier is true. It is my one connection to my mother.”

Galen waited until the women had exchanged contact information by way of business cards and hugged for what he hoped would be the last time before they finally headed in different directions.

The conversation between them had lasted a good twenty minutes. They had been so busy chatting away, catching up on old times as well as the new, that they hadn’t even noticed him standing less than ten feet from them in the same spot, eavesdropping the entire time. It had been time well spent, because he’d gotten a lot of information about her.

Her name was Brittany Thrasher. She was twenty-eight, she lived in Tampa and she owned some sort of etiquette school that taught proper protocol and manners. He shook his head. Go figure.

He also knew all about the house she would be bidding on and why she wanted it so badly. It was a house on a private road off Rushing Street. He knew the area.

Galen glanced at his watch and figured he would hang around after all and make sure he and Brittany
Thrasher got reacquainted on more pleasant terms. It was time she saw that he wasn’t such a bad guy. He’d just had an off day that time in New York. He would just throw on the Steele charm, talk her into taking him along when she went and took a tour of her new house. No telling where things would lead from there.

He was about to head in the direction she’d gone when another conversation caught his ears. This time between two men who were standing together talking. “Are you sure the house off Rushing Street is going on the block today?” the short, stocky man asked his companion, a taller bald-headed guy.

“I’m positive. I verified it was listed in the program. If the rezoning of the area goes as planned—and I have no reason to believe that it won’t with all the money we’re pouring into the rezoning commissioner’s election campaign—I figure that within a year, that property will be approved for commercial use.”

The short, stocky man chuckled. “Good. Then we can tear the house down and use all that land to build another one of our hotels. We just need to make sure no one else outbids us for it.”

Galen watched the men walk off. Evidently they wanted the same house Brittany would be bidding on. He shrugged, thinking it wasn’t any of his business. That was the nature of an auction and there was no reason for him to get involved. Then he released a short laugh. Who in the hell was he fooling? Even when she had been in New York he’d made her his business. Time just
hadn’t lent itself for anything more than a confrontation between them.

He glanced at his watch before pulling his cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. The push of one button had his phone connected to Eli.

“What do you want, Galen?”

He smiled. Eli was the moody brother. Ready for chitchat one minute and a grouch the next. “I’m still here at the auction mart. I need you to fax me a loan approval letter with an open line of credit.”

“What do you think I am, your banker?” his brother snapped.

“Just work miracles and do it and stop whining.”

“Dammit, what’s the fax number?”

“How the hell do I know? Just look it up.” He quickly hung up the phone before Eli decided to get real ugly.

Galen made his way toward the auction area. Following the crowd, he wondered just when he’d begun rescuing damsels in distress. It was a disconcerting thought for a Steele, but in this case it was one he was looking forward to doing.