About
SEDUCED BY A STEELE:
New York Times
bestselling author Brenda Jackson brings you a brand-new story in the Forged
of Steele series. Perfect for fans of the popular Westmoreland
series and readers of passionate contemporary romances!
A notorious heartbreaker is about to meet his match…Will a damsel in distress be his redemption?
When the “thief” caught driving his stolen vintage car turns out to be a stunning runaway heiress, Mercury Steele is conflicted. On the one hand, Sloan Donahue, penniless and on the run from her tyrannical family, triggers the billionaire playboy’s protective instincts. But she also triggers red-hot desire. Mercury refuses to think his simple seduction is becoming something deeper, especially when Sloan is keeping secrets…
A notorious heartbreaker is about to meet his match…Will a damsel in distress be his redemption?
When the “thief” caught driving his stolen vintage car turns out to be a stunning runaway heiress, Mercury Steele is conflicted. On the one hand, Sloan Donahue, penniless and on the run from her tyrannical family, triggers the billionaire playboy’s protective instincts. But she also triggers red-hot desire. Mercury refuses to think his simple seduction is becoming something deeper, especially when Sloan is keeping secrets…
Excerpt,
SEDUCED BY A STEELE by Brenda Jackson
A
feeling of relief swept through Mercury when he located his car. Parking in the
space beside it, he quickly got out and glanced around the shops in the mall,
wondering where the driver had gone.
He
was pissed when he pulled his phone out of his jacket to call the police again
to give them his exact location. Putting his phone back, he walked around his
car and was glad not to see any dents. Other than need-ing a good wash job, the
old girl looked good. Deciding to check the interior, he pulled his car keys
out of his pocket to open the door.
“Get
away from my car!”
Mercury
snatched his head up and was instantly mesmerized by the beauty of the woman’s
dark brown eyes, shoulder-length curly hair that cascaded around an oval face,
high cheekbones, the smooth and creamy texture of her cocoa-colored skin and
one pair of the sexiest lips he’d ever seen on a woman.
He
immediately flashed her one of his wolfish smiles and was about to go into
man-whore mode until what she’d said stopped him. Then he became blinded to all
that gorgeous beauty. “Your car?”
“Yes,
my car. Now get away from it before I call the police.”
He
crossed his arms over his chest. “This is my car. It was stolen from me three
nights ago.”
“You’re
lying,” the woman snapped.
Calling
him a liar was a big mistake. The one thing he despised more than anything was
for someone to question his integrity. “If you think that, then by all means
call the police. However, you don’t have to call them since I already have.
You’re the thief, not me.”
“I
am not a thief,” she said, feeling brave enough to step closer and glare at
him.
“Nor
am I a liar,” he said, glaring back. Suddenly a police cruiser with flashing
blue lights pulled up and two officers quickly got out. One was Sherman Aikens,
one of Jonas’s old high school friends. “I see you’ve found your car, Mercury.”
Mercury
frowned over at him. “No thanks to you guys who should have been looking for
it. And my car was never lost, it was stolen, and she’s the person who has it.”
“It’s
my car!”
Both
officers glanced over at the woman and Mercury glowered. Instead of saying
anything, they just stared at her, male appreciation obvious in their gazes.
“For crying out loud, aren’t you going to ask to see her papers on the vehicle
since she claims to be the owner?” he snapped out at the officers.
Sherman
broke eye contact with the woman to frown at Mercury. “I was going to get to
that.” In a voice Mercury felt was way too accommodating, considering the
circumstances, Sherman said, “Ma’am, I need to see papers on this vehicle,
because it resembles one reported stolen three nights ago.”
“It
is the one that was stolen three nights ago,” Mercury snapped while ignoring
Sherman’s frown. As far as Mercury was concerned, Sherman could become smitten
with the woman on someone else’s time.
“Stolen!
That’s not possible, Officer,” the woman said, looking alarmed. “Why would
anyone want to steal that car? Look at it. It’s old.”
Mercury
glared at her while Sherman and the other officer unsuccessfully tried hiding
their grins. “It’s a classic, and if it’s so old for your taste, why did you
buy it like you claim you did?” Mercury asked her.
“Because
I needed transportation and it was in my budget,” she said, pulling papers from
her purse. “I just bought it yesterday.” She handed the papers to Sherman.
Mercury
thought it took Sherman longer than necesary to switch his gaze from the woman
to the papers. He then said in a too-apologetic voice, “Sorry, ma’am, but these
papers are fake.”
Shock flew to her face. “Fake? But
that’s not possible. A nice gentleman sold the car to me.”
“That
‘nice’ man conned you into buying a stolen car,” Mercury said, ignoring
Sherman’s narrowed gaze as well as the woman’s thunderstruck expression.
Switching
her gaze from Mercury to Sherman, she said, “Please tell me that’s not true,
Officer. I gave him three hundred dollars.”
“Three
hundred dollars?” Mercury asked, not believing what she’d said.
Lifting
her chin, she added, “Yes, I knew the car wasn’t worth that much, but the man
looked a little down on his luck and needed the money.”
Mercury
shook his head. “You got that car for a steal, no pun intended. Do you not know
the value of that car? It’s worth over two hundred thousand dollars easily.”
She
rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Ridiculous? She had bought a stolen car
from some-one who she thought was a nice man, and she thought he was being
ridiculous? He was about to give her a scathing reply, but Sherman’s look
warned him not to do so.
“Yes,
ma’am, unfortunately that man did run a scam on you,” Sherman said. “I hate you
lost all that money. I need you to come down to police headquarters and give us
a statement, including a description of the man who sold you the car. We will
be on the lookout for him.”
“Like
you guys were on the lookout for my car?” Mercury said under his breath, but
when Sherman shot him a disapproving glare, he knew he’d been heard regardless.
Sherman
turned to him. “We’re going to have to impound the car. You and Miss Donahue
need to come down to police headquarters to give statements.”
“But
I’m on my way to a job interview,” the woman said, suddenly looking distressed.
Mercury
refused to feel an ounce of sympathy for her since he too would be late for an
interview with a potential new client. Now he would have to reschedule. Every
sports agent alive would want to sign on Nor-ris Eastwood, but the parents of
the high school senior with plans to go straight into the NBA had sought out
Mercury. He hoped being a no-show this morning wouldn’t be a negative against
him. If it was, then he had this woman to blame.
“Are
you okay with that, Mercury?”
When
he heard his name, he glanced up. “Am I okay with what?” He saw the other
officer had pulled the woman off to the side to take down some information.
“Giving Miss Donahue a ride to the police station,” Sherman said.
“Don’t
you have room in the police car? That’s the normal way you transport criminals,
isn’t it? For all we know, she could be in cahoots with the person who stole my
car.”
Sherman
rolled his eyes. “You don’t believe that any more than I do, Mercury. It’s
obvious she’s an innocent victim who doesn’t belong in the back of a patrol
car. She’s no more a thief than we are. Look at her.”
Mercury
didn’t want to look at her, but he did any-way. He immediately thought the same
thing he had when he’d first seen her. She was a very beautiful woman. Her
features were just that striking. And then there was that delectable-looking
figure in a navy blue pencil skirt and white blouse. Sexy as hell. But still…
About
Brenda Jackson:
Brenda Jackson is a New
York Times bestselling author of more than one hundred romance titles.
Brenda lives in Jacksonville, Florida, and divides her time between family,
writing and traveling. Email Brenda at authorbrendajackson@gmail.com or visit
her on her website at brendajackson.net.
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