Seduced By A Steele (Forged of Steele #12) - Brenda Jackson Page 0,1

1967 Camaro anywhere. Hell, they hadn’t even bothered changing the license plates.

Moving into the other lane, he tried getting as close as he could. Finally, he was two cars behind. When the driver changed lanes, he did likewise. When the car exited off the interstate, he followed, but now he was three cars behind. He pressed the call-assist button on his car’s dash. Within seconds a voice came on through the car’s speaker. “Yes, Mr. Steele, how can we help you today?”

“Connect me with the Phoenix Police Department.”

“Yes, Mr. Steele.”

He nodded, appreciating hands-free technology. Moments later the connection was made. “Phoenix Police Department. May I help you?”

“My car, the one that was stolen three nights ago that you guys haven’t been able to find, is three cars ahead of me. I’m tailing them as we speak.”

“Your name, sir?”

“Mercury Steele.”

“What is your location?”

“Currently, I’m in the Norcross District, at the intersection of Adams and Monroe. If the driver makes a stop, then I will, too.”

“Sir, you are advised not to tail anyone or take matters into your own hands. Police in the area have been summoned.”

Like hell he wouldn’t tail the person who’d had the nerve to steal his car, he thought, disconnecting the call.

Mercury saw the driver making a right turn ahead and he quickly put on the brakes when the car ahead of him got caught by a traffic light.

“Damn!” He hoped he didn’t lose the thief. It seemed to take forever for the traffic light to change and then he turned right at the intersection. Glancing around, he saw he was on a busy street, one that led to the Apperson Mall.

Sloan Donahue didn’t have time to go back home and change her blouse, and there was no way she could wear one bearing coffee stains to her job interview. That meant she needed to dash into this clothing store and buy a new blouse and then swap it out in the dressing room with the one she was currently wearing.

She was excited. For the very first time she would be interviewing for a job without her parents’ help or interference. She’d left Cincinnati, Ohio, a week ago when her parents tried forcing her into an arranged marriage, saying that in their social circles it was their duty to ensure her future and her fortune. She’d refused. Luckily, her parents’ predictions that she couldn’t make it on her own and would be returning home in less than forty-eight hours didn’t happen. She wouldn’t go back if they still expected her to marry Harold Cunningham. And she knew they would.

Sloan didn’t care one iota that marrying Harold would be a financial marriage made in heaven. It was her life and future they were dealing with. She didn’t love Harold any more than he loved her. For the past six months he’d wined and dined her, romanced her like a good suitor was supposed to. For a short while, she’d almost convinced herself maybe he was falling in love with her and that she could possibly fall in love with him.

Then she’d discovered he was having an affair. She’d received the text message he’d intended to send another woman. When she confronted Harold about it, he didn’t deny anything. He admitted to being in love with the woman, but said he would do his “duty” and marry Sloan. However, he wanted her to know that, married or not, he intended for the woman he loved to forever be a part of his life. In other words, he would have a mistress if he and Sloan got married.

When she told her parents to call off the wedding and the reason for doing so, they felt Harold marrying her and keeping his piece on the side shouldn’t matter. She should consider the boost the marriage would play in her financial future and suck it up. They’d given her an ultimatum to marry Harold or else. She told them she would take the or else.

She needed time away from her family, and wanting to get as far away from Cincinnati as she could, Sloan had looked up an old college roommate who invited her to come