“Fancy running into you again.”
With so much weighing heavily on her mind, it took Brittany some effort to lift her head up to see who was talking to her. As soon as her gaze collided with the man’s green eyes, she knew. Her mouth gaped open as she stared at him while he stood there smiling down at her.
“Wh-where did you come from?” she stuttered as she tried recovering from shock.
This was the same man who, even with all his less-than-desirable manners, had been able to creep into her dreams once or twice. She swallowed knowing it had been more often than that. And just thinking about those times sent a shiver through her. Fantasizing about him in her dreams was one thing, but actually seeing him again in the flesh was another.
What was he doing in Phoenix, and better yet, why did their paths have to cross again? Especially now?
“Where did I come from?” he asked, repeating her question as if he’d found it amusing. “I came from my house this morning and don’t worry I came by car and not by cab.”
She glared at him. If he thought that line was amusing he was wrong. All it did was remind her of just how impolite he’d been that day. That’s really what she should be remembering, not thinking about the way the smile touched his lips, or what a gorgeous pair of eyes he had, or why even now when she had just lost the one thing she’d ever wanted in life, that she could feel the charge in the air between them. The heat. She’d felt it that day in New York, too, even with all her anger.
She hadn’t taken the time to analyze it until a few days later, in the privacy of her bedroom when every time she would close her eyes she would see him looking so extremely handsome and dressed in a tux. And his pants had been unzipped. A sensation stirred in her belly at the memory.
Automatically, her gaze lowered to his zipper and she was grateful he was more together this time. Boy, was he. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a white Western shirt and a pair of scuffed boots. He was holding a dark brown Stetson in his hand, and she appreciated that at least he didn’t have it on his head. Someone evidently hadn’t told a couple of the men who’d attended the auction that it was bad manners to wear a hat inside a building.
And he was tall. She had to actually tilt her head back to look at him. He was built and she particularly liked the way his jeans stretched tight across his thighs. His shoulders were broad beneath his tailored shirt. She could tell.
The sight of him could make a woman drool, and as she continued to study him she remembered how his eyes had captured her from the first. Although she hadn’t wanted them to. Those gorgeous Smokey Robinson eyes. She’d thought that then and was thinking the same thing now.
“Small world, isn’t it?”
His statement made her realize she was still sitting down. The shock of losing her house hadn’t worn off. She slowly stood up and didn’t miss the way the green-eyed gaze traveled over her when she did so. She rolled her eyes. She was a big girl and could handle lust for what it was. He was a man and, she presumed, a single man. At least he wasn’t wearing a ring, not that it meant anything these days. Besides, no matter how good he looked she couldn’t forget that he was the epitome of rude.
And she was quick to size him up. He was a man on the prowl. She’d met more than one in her day and had always managed to convince them to prowl someplace else, in some other woman’s neck of the woods. She’d discovered long ago that the whole idea of sex was overrated. She certainly hadn’t gotten anything out of it so far.
“So, what about you? Where did you come from?” he prompted.
She thought that perhaps they were standing too close. Had he taken a step closer and she hadn’t noticed it? She glanced around. The room was completely empty except for them.
“Doesn’t matter where I’m from because I’m on my way back there.” She glanced at her watch. “If you will excuse me, I need to find someone.”
“Who?”
She tightened her lips to keep from saying it wasn’t any of his business but decided not to. Besides, if he had been in the room during the bidding, there was a chance he might know the identity of the person who’d won her house.
“The man who placed the winning bid on the house I wanted. I really need to see him,” she said.
“Okay.”
When he didn’t step back she moved around him. “Have a nice day,” she said, throwing the words over her shoulder as she headed for the exit door.
“Where are you going? We haven’t been introduced.”
She stopped and turned to him. She refused to be rude even if he had a history of doing so. “I’m rather in a hurry. Like I said, I’ve got to find—”
“Me.”
Brittany tilted her head slightly. “Excuse me?”
A slow, sinfully sensual smile touched his lips. “I said in that case you’re looking for me. I’m Galen Steele and I’m the person who placed the winning bid on house number eight.”
Brittany took a step back thinking that couldn’t be possible. This man, this rude man, could not be the new owner of her house. Not a man on the prowl. The man whose high testosterone level spoke volumes, to the point where even she—a person who’d never enjoyed sex—could read it. She guessed you didn’t have to enjoy the act to feel the effect. Case in point, the way her heart was thumping in her chest.
“You have my house?” she asked, taking a deep, steadying breath. She still didn’t want to believe such a thing was possible.
He nodded. “Signed, sealed and delivered. But it could be yours. I’m definitely willing to negotiate, Ms….?”
“Thrasher. Brittany Thrasher.” She brushed her fingers against her throat trying to keep up with him. “Are you saying that you might want to part with the house?”
He shrugged. “Why not? It serves me no purpose. I already have a house that I happen to like.”
She threw up her hands in frustration, anger and total confusion. “Then why did you bid on it?”
He chuckled. “Because I saw how much you wanted it and I figured it would be a good bargaining tool.”
Her brows furrowed in confusion. “A bargaining tool for what?”
“For when we make a deal. I’m going to make an offer that I hope you can’t refuse.”
She pulled in a deep breath. Did he think she wanted the house that bad that he could make a quick profit right here and now? Evidently that’s just what he thought. And unfortunately, he was right. She wanted that house.
“How much?” she decided to cut to the chase and ask.
He lifted a brow. “How much?”
“Yes, how much do you want for it?”
“A week.”
“Excuse me? I must have misunderstood you.”
He smiled. “No, you didn’t. I won’t take money for the house, Ms. Thrasher, but I will take a week. Just one week of your time, on my terms, and the house is yours, free and clear.”
For a stretch of more than a minute, the only sound in the room was their breathing, and then Brittany spoke and she tilted her head back and her gaze locked with his as she stared up at him. “Let me get this straight. You will turn over that house to me if I spend a week with you?”
He nodded slowly and the gaze holding hers didn’t flinch or waver. It was steadfast and unmovable. “Yes, but on my terms, which includes living under my roof.”
Galen watched as she crossed her arms over her chest, just like she’d done that day in New York, reminding him what a nice pair of breasts they were. Standing this close to her again was calling his attention to a number of things about her that he’d missed that day. Like how her bottom lip would start quivering when she was angry or how her eyes would darken from a caramel to a deep, rich chocolate when things weren’t going her way. He wondered if that same transformation took place while she was in the bedroom making love.
Her eyes narrowed on him. “Mr. Steele, you’ve lost your mind. What you’re proposing is preposterous.”
“No, it’s not. It’s what I want and personally, I think
it’s a rather good deal considering what you’ll be getting,” he pointed out. “In the end you’ll get what you want and I’ll get what I want.”
Fire leaped into her face and he actually got aroused watching it. He wondered if anyone ever told her how hot she looked when she was angry. “How can you even suggest such a thing? A decent man would never talk that way to a lady. How dare you.”
He chuckled again. “Yes, how dare me.”
“And why in the world would I want to live with you for a week? Give me one good reason.”
He shrugged. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll give you two. First, you want that house, so that should be incentive enough. Because it’s not, there’s the issue of what you said that day in New York about someone teaching me some manners.”
“Well, they should!”
“Then do it. I dare you. I dare you to stay with me for a week and teach me manners.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. And then he handed her his business card.
“You have only forty-eight hours to make your decision to contact me. If I don’t hear from you, then I will donate the house, the land and all its contents to charity. Goodbye, Ms. Thrasher.”
Then he walked off and didn’t look back.
Chapter 5
The maitre d’ greeted Brittany with a smile. “Good evening and welcome to Malone’s. May I help you?”
“Yes. I have dinner reservations with Nikki Cartwright.”
“Ms. Cartwright has already been seated. Please follow me.”
Brittany glanced around while the man led the way. Nikki had suggested that they meet here and Brittany was glad Nikki had when the man stopped at a table next to a window providing a majestic view of the Sonoran foothills.
Nikki beamed when she saw her and stood and gave her a hug. “Well, did you get your house?” she asked excitedly.
Brittany fought to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall since she’d left the auction mart. “No, I was outbid,” she said as she took her seat.
“Oh, Brit, I’m so sorry. I know how much getting that house meant to you. Have you talked to the new owner to see if you can at least get your mother’s belongings because the house was willed to you?”
Brittany shook her head in disgust. “The man and I talked about a lot of things, but we never got around to that. He was so busy telling me how I’d be able to get the house from him free and clear.”
“Really? How?”
“I have to live with him for a week.”
Nikki nearly choked as she sipped on her water.
“What?”
“You heard me right. He offered to sign the house over to me if I’d agree to spend a week with him.”
Nikki looked aghast. “Just who is this guy? Of all the nerve.”
“His name is Galen Steele and I have—”
“Galen Steele?” Nikki sat straight up in her chair.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. He gave me his business card and I have forty-eight hours to get back to him with my decision.”
Nikki shook her head. “I can’t believe he actually approached you like that, a complete stranger.”
“We’re not exactly strangers,” Brittany said and then went on to explain how they’d met over the cab.
“Luckily, I was early for the airport and another cab was dispatched within minutes. But still, before he left I told him that someone should teach him some manners. So now he wants me to move in with him and do just that.”
“To teach him manners?” Nikki asked.
Brittany gave her friend a straight look. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Nikki. I’m sure a class on manners isn’t all he’s expecting.”
Nikki nodded. “Knowing those Steeles, it’s probably not.”
She raised a brow. “Do you know him?”
“Not personally, but there aren’t many single women in Phoenix who don’t know of the Steeles. There are six of them. All handsome as sin with green eyes that can make your panties wet if they look at you long enough. The green eyes are from their mother’s side of the family. She used to be a fashion model and was well-known in her day. I heard that even now she’s still quite beautiful.”
“And Galen has five brothers?”
“Yes, and all of them were born within a year of each other. Galen is the oldest. It seems their father was serious about keeping his wife pregnant. And in addition to being handsome, all those Steeles are very successful. The only one I’ve ever said more than two words to is Jonas. He owns a marketing firm and I’ve done freelance photography work for him once or twice. Jonas is a pretty nice guy, but all those Steeles have one thing in common besides good looks, success and green eyes.”
“What?” Brittany wanted to know.
“They are hard-core womanizers, all six of them, which is why women consider them the ‘Bad News Steeles.’ People claim they got their womanizing ways from their father. I heard he used to be something else before settling down and marrying Eden Tyson.”
Nikki then leaned over the table. “With you owning an etiquette school, you’ll be the perfect person to teach him manners. Are you going to take Galen Steele up on his offer?”
Brittany pushed a lock of hair out of her face. “Of course not! He doesn’t even know what I do for a living.”
Nikki chuckled. “There’s a joke around town that a woman hasn’t been bedded unless she’s been bedded by a Steele. They’re supposed to be just that good.”
No man was that good, Brittany thought. At least none in her past had been worth the trouble. “Well, I plan on contacting him tomorrow. There has to be another way.”
Nikki shrugged as a half smile eased across her lips. “I don’t know. I understand when they see a woman they want, they go after her. Of course they drop her after a while, but there are a lot of women who would love to be in your shoes right now, including me. Not for Galen, mind you, but I’ve always had this thing for Jonas. He’s a hottie.”
Brittany stared across the table at her long-lost friend. “Let me get this straight. If given the chance you would accept his terms of an affair?”
“Of course,” Nikki said without any thought. “I’m a career woman and I’ve pretty much given up the notion of finding Mr. Right because it seems they’re already taken. What you have out there now are men like the Steeles, the Hard-Ons, the Idiots and the Dawgs. They are the men who want one thing and one thing only. I’m prepared for them because personally, I want only one thing myself. I no longer have any grandiose ideas of settling down, marrying a man who is my soul mate, having babies and living happily ever after. All it takes is for me to watch divorce court on television to know it doesn’t work that way. At least not anymore and not for most people.”
Brittany felt sad for her friend. When they were teenagers, Nikki had dreamed of a knight in shining armor.
“What about you?” Nikki interrupted her thoughts by asking. “I remember you weren’t in a rush to ever marry. You wanted to see the world first. And,” she added, lowering her voice, “you were sort of against men because of what that man tried to do to you that time.”
Nikki’s words suddenly yanked Brittany out of the present and pushed her right smack back into the past when she’d been thirteen and Mr. Ponder, a male friend of one of her foster parents, had tried forcing himself on her. He would have succeeded had she not bit him hard enough for him to let her go. It was the first time she’d run away from a foster home. After telling the policemen who’d found her what happened—or almost happened—the authorities had placed her in another foster home right away.
That move had been a blessing because that’s when she’d met Nikki. Nikki’s family had lived across the street from the Dugans. At first the trauma of what the man had tried doing left Brittany withdrawn, confused and alone. But all that changed when Nikki became her friend. At some point she’d felt comfortable enough with Nikki to share her secret.
“Brit, maybe I shouldn’t
have brought it up,” she heard Nikki saying. “I’m sorry.”
She met her friend’s apologetic gaze. “No, I’m fine, although I haven’t thought of it in years. But now I’m wondering if that episode has anything to do with why…”
When her words faltered, Nikki raised a brow and asked, “Why what?”
Brittany glanced around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation, leaned over the table and whispered, “Why I don’t enjoy sex like most women.”
“It might and then again, it might not. Some men are just selfish in the bedroom. It’s all about them and they could care less if you get your pleasures or not. You might have been involved with those types.”
Nikki smiled and then continued. “What you need is a man who has the ability to tap into those hidden pleasures. And if that’s true, based on what I’ve heard, a Steele is just the man who can do it. I know several women who had short-term affairs with them and their only regret was missing out on all that pleasure. They claim that when it comes to fulfilling a woman’s fantasy, those ‘Bad News Steeles’ are top-notch.”
Brittany waited while the waiter placed menus in front of them. When the man walked off, she said, “And what if I don’t have any hidden pleasures for anyone to tap into?”
Nikki gave her a somber look. “If you don’t enjoy sex at the hands of a Steele, then I would suggest you get some serious counseling. Although that pervert didn’t succeed in doing anything, I can imagine it was a traumatic experience for you to go through at the time. You were only thirteen.”
Yes, Brittany thought. She’d been only thirteen. Now she understood those looks Mr. Ponder used to give her and why she wasn’t comfortable when she received those kind of looks now from men.
“Do you know what I think, Brit?”
Brittany glanced across the table at Nikki. It was hard to believe they hadn’t seen each other in over twelve years. That special bond they’d always had seemed to just fall into place. Nikki had been there to help her through some rough times in her life and when Nikki had moved away, she had truly lost her best friend. There hadn’t been anyone she could talk to, share her innermost fears and secrets with. She had felt truly alone.
Hidden Pleasures Page 4
