Night Heat (8 page)

Bas shook his head as he wandered out of the bathroom, where he had just finished taking a shower, and into the bedroom. After awakening this morning and downing his first cup of coffee, he'd figured he would have a pretty good day…at least he'd thought so until the phone rang. Before he could say hello, his sister-in-law was bombarding him with questions.

“Did Chance put you up to calling me, Kylie?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. The sunlight was pouring in through the window and in the far distance he could see the Smoky Mountains.

“No, I'm just concerned about you.”

“I've only been gone a week.”

“Yes, but you know what a worrywart I am. Besides, Chance and I want to tell you our news.”

Bas lifted a brow. “What news?”

He could hear her throaty laugh. “Here's Chance. I'll let him tell you.” He heard her handing over the phone to his brother.

“Bas?”

Bas leaned back against the headboard. “Okay, Chance, what's going on? What's this news you and Kylie have to tell me?”

“Nothing major. Just the fact that you're going to be an uncle…again.”

A huge smile spread across Bas's face. His brother had remarried eight months ago after being a widower for seven years. “Hey, that's wonderful. Congratulations. How do the kids feel about the upcoming addition to your household?” By kids he meant Kylie's fifteen-year-old daughter, Tiffany, and Chance's sixteen-year-old son, Marcus.

“They're thrilled and already fighting over baby-sitting rights.” Chance laughed. “I'll see how eager they are for the job when the baby arrives
and they find out what changing diapers is all about.”

Bas talked to his brother for another ten minutes, filling him in on how things were going. “So, Jocelyn Mason wasn't glad to see you, huh?” Chance asked.

“Nope, not that I figured she would be.”

“She sounds like a handful.”

Bas smiled. Yes, she was a handful all right, but at the moment he thought of her being a mouthful. At three in the morning he'd been wide awake remembering just how good that sassy mouth of hers had tasted. Even now the memory shot his pulse up a notch or two. And then there was the luscious scent of her perfume that he was convinced had gotten absorbed into his skin, since he could still smell her.

“Yes, she's a handful for now, only because she sees me as a threat. Once she sees that I'm only here to help, she'll be okay,” he said with more confidence than he really felt.

“I hope you're right. The last thing you need is to get stressed about anything.”

“Trust me, Chance. The last thing I'd do is let any woman stress me out. You should know that about me.”

After a few more minutes of small talk with his brother and sister-in-law, who reminded him of the surprise party next month for his brother Donovan's birthday, Bas hung up the phone then stood and walked over to the window and looked out. What
he'd told Chance was the truth. He didn't plan on letting any woman stress him out. If Cassandra Tisdale hadn't done it during the six months of their engagement then such a thing wasn't possible.

He smiled as he checked his watch. It was time for his workday to begin.

 

Jocelyn glanced over at the man sitting across from her and smiled. “I'm flattered by your interest in Mason Construction but it's not for sale, Mr. Cody,” she said, sipping a glass of lemonade.

What she had told him was the truth. She was truly flattered. She had read enough articles in
Black Enterprises
to know that if Cameron Cody was looking at any company to add to his portfolio then there was a good reason for it, because he was fast becoming a powerhouse. He was a high-school dropout who had eventually gotten his act together to later graduate cum laude from Harvard Business School, and now, at thirty-four, he was one of the most success African-American men in the country.

Cameron Cody was a self-made millionaire who had a knack for investing in all kinds of profitable ventures. His latest was construction, after he, along with other noted celebrities, had combined their funds and formed a construction company to help rebuild communities in New Orleans destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. The success of that venture had
given him the idea to purchase a number of construction companies in various parts of the country to build low-income housing. Jocelyn thought his idea was good as well as needed. But as she'd told him, Mason Construction was not for sale.

“If you change your mind,” Cody said, going into his pocket to pull out a business card, “please let me know. The offer will stand. The task force I put together was thorough in providing me with the names of construction companies around the country that have good, solid reputations. You should be proud that your company is one of them. That speaks highly of your leadership.”

Jocelyn smiled, placing her glass of lemonade back on the table. “Since I'm sure your task force did a good job of investigating Mason Construction, then you're well aware that my father is the one who ran things up until eight months ago, so he's the one who should receive all the credit. And yes, you're right, the success of Mason Construction speaks highly of his leadership skills. Dad was well liked and highly respected in this community.”

Cameron Cody leaned back in his chair and Jocelyn thought that in addition to being successful, he was also extremely good looking, although she hadn't experienced any of the sizzle she'd felt when she first met Bas. And she hadn't felt that same jolt of current that had gone through her when their
hands had made contact in a handshake as she'd felt with Bas. There had been no crackle or pop. She was a little daunted that it seemed her hyper-awareness of Bas was somewhat unique and at the moment unexplainable. Evidently there was some ingrained reason why Sebastian Steele could send heat shimmering through her with just a mere look or touch. She was clueless as to what it was.

She and Cameron were enjoying lunch at Kabuki, a popular Newton Grove restaurant that had a reputation for fine dining. Any time of any day, one would find it crowded with locals as well as tourists.

“You're not giving yourself enough credit, Ms. Mason,” Cameron said smoothly, interrupting her thoughts. “But from all accounts, you've been doing a pretty good job since taking over things. The men who work for you respect you as well as admire your abilities and your knowledge of construction. To me that says a lot.”

“Thank you.” Once again she accepted his compliment, since from what she'd heard he didn't give them often. As she took another sip of her lemonade she got the feeling he didn't seem bothered that she had turned down his offer—an offer that had been rather generous. He had even gone so far as to assure her that the men who worked for her would remain employed with his corporation. She wondered if what she heard was true and that he had a telepathic
sense when it came to good business deals. Did he think she would eventually change her mind?

Half an hour later she was walking through the front door of her home, hightailing it up the stairs to her bedroom to change clothes. She wanted to put in at least a few hours at the job site. After kicking off her shoes she wiggled out of her panty hose. While shimmying her skirt down her hips she noticed the red light blinking on the phone beside her bed. She quickly walked over to play the message.

“Jocelyn, this is Bas. I met with Marcella Jones this morning and explained the company's new policy regarding changes with her. She understood our position and has agreed to be surcharged for any additional changes she makes.”

Jocelyn's mouth dropped open. Was he talking about the same Marcella Jones that everyone in Newton Grove knew? There's no way, she thought, quickly unbuttoning her blouse. If Bas had been able to get Marcella to cooperate, she couldn't help but wonder how. Then a thought hit her as she slipped into her jeans. No doubt Bas's good looks and perfect body had something to do with it; it was a known fact that even married, Marcella appreciated a nice piece of male flesh and had been involved in more than one extramarital affair. For some reason that thought didn't sit too well with Jocelyn.

She quickly pulled a T-shirt over her head and
before taking off down the stairs, she grabbed Bas's jacket off the chair by her bedroom door, fully intending to return it to him today. As soon as she picked it up the scent of him enslaved her, subduing her with memories of the night before. For the rest of her life she would remember that kiss, the way his tongue had captured hers, sucked on it greedily, licked the moisture from her mouth with a need that had nearly pushed her over the edge and had sent intense desire pounding in her head. Never in her life had she been kissed that way. The very air surrounding them had crackled with an intimacy she hadn't thought possible.

Just remembering the kiss, she felt overtaken by something so erotic, so lustful and so plain feverish that she had to hold her head down for a moment to catch her breath and get her bearings. How could one man have such a profound and sensuous impact on a woman?

She didn't want to think what would have happened if he had done more than kiss her. What if he had gone beyond the kiss and had touched her intimately? What if his fingers had gotten involved and had sneaked under her blouse to caress her breasts, eased down to her stomach and beneath the waistband of her jeans to slip inside her panties to stroke the area between her legs, and then—

“Jocelyn, are you okay?”

Jocelyn jumped at the sound of her sister's voice and fought the urge to moan in total embarrassment. Leah was standing in the hallway looking at her with concern in her eyes. Barely able to breathe, Jocelyn made herself move quickly to the stairs. “Of course I'm all right. I was just thinking about something.”

“Must have been something intense. For a moment you seemed to be in another world.”

If only you knew,
Jocelyn thought, taking the stairs two at a time. “I probably won't make it back in time for dinner tonight,” she threw over her shoulder. “I want to use the computer at the office to check the Web for some arcade games we can lease for Founder's Day.”

“No problem. I can always bring dinner to you.”

Jocelyn turned, surprised by Leah's offer. Her sister had barely left the house since the funeral. Not only was she willing to venture out, but to the office, a place where she could very likely run into Reese. “Thanks. Are you sure you're up to doing that?”

Leah shrugged. “Yes. I still have no intention of ever telling Reese what happened, but I can't hide forever.”

Jocelyn walked over to her sister to give her the hug she felt she needed. “No, you can't and I'm glad you finally realize that. But you know my feelings. I think that Reese deserves to know what happened.”

Leah pulled back. “No, and you promised.”

Jocelyn nodded. “And I plan to keep that promise, but I think it's something you need to think about, Leah. After you left, Reese was in a bad way. Do you know he hasn't seriously been involved with anyone since you?”

Leah's eyes widened in surprise. “No, I didn't know that.”

Jocelyn smiled faintly. “And it wasn't from lack of interest on the women's parts, trust me. He refuses to let another woman get close enough to break his heart all over again.”

Jocelyn watched a lone tear escape from Leah's eyes. She regretted having been so blunt but it wouldn't be fair for Leah not to know the depth of Reese's anger and pain.

Leah hung her head and said softly, “I never meant to hurt him, Jocelyn.”

“Yes, I know, and now since you've told me everything, I understand. I just want you to be prepared for his attitude toward you if your paths ever cross. He's still hurt and rather bitter.”

Leah tilted her head up and met Jocelyn's gaze. “Thanks for the warning.”

“No problem,” Jocelyn said, reaching out and touching Leah's arm. “And as far as dinner goes, don't worry about me. I ate a big lunch today.”

She turned to leave but decided she needed to say something more to her sister. She turned back
around. “I'm glad you're home, Leah, and more than anything, I don't want you hurting anymore.”

She watched another tear fall from Leah's eyes. “Thanks, Jocelyn. That means a lot.”

“Good.”

Finally, Jocelyn left, and by the time she made it to her truck she felt good that she and Leah had crossed another hurdle together.

“W
hy didn't you tell me about your meeting with Cameron Cody?”

Jocelyn turned and lifted the safety glasses from her eyes. All around was the loud noise of men busy at work. Drills and saws were buzzing and hammers and lumber were clashing, yet she'd been able to hear Bas's question as if he'd been right on top of her shouting in her ear when in fact he hadn't even raised his voice. However, she could tell from the expression on his face that he wasn't a happy camper.

He leaned against a post with his hands shoved into his pockets, his feet crossed at the ankles,
wearing faded jeans and a Carolina Panthers T-shirt. She wondered if the man had a patent on sexuality because whenever she saw him, no matter what he was wearing, he looked too damn good.

She swallowed back the bated breath that filled her throat. Having such a fierce attraction to a man was something she wasn't used to. He was beginning to be a pain in the butt in more ways than one.

“You know,” she said, flipping her safety glasses back in place. “You've got a lot of nerve coming up behind a woman with a screwdriver in her hand.”

Her gaze then traveled down the length of his body and deliberately froze on the area just below the belt. “Especially a woman who wouldn't mind giving new meaning to the term ‘tightening up nuts' if she got angry enough.”

He glared down at her. “Just answer my question, Jocelyn.”

She glared back, not liking his attitude or his question. “I don't have to tell you everything that goes on with Mason Construction.”

His step was quick and in two seconds, screwdriver or no screwdriver, he was standing directly in front of her. “Now that's where you're wrong. And since I prefer that the men didn't see us at odds with each other, I suggest we take this discussion elsewhere.”

“Not interested,” she said, already turning back around.

“Get interested. Let's go.”

Before she could utter the next word, he grabbed her forearm and began tugging her along with him. She was grateful the men were too busy installing Marcella's granite countertops to give her or Bas the time of day. But still…

“Turn me loose,” she warned him through clenched teeth. “Or you'll find out just how it feels to really get screwed.”

That statement did the trick and he immediately dropped his hand from her arm. She was too ashamed to admit that her arm felt warm and tingly in the spot his fingers had been.

“We can use my car to go somewhere quiet.”

His words reclaimed her attention and she stopped dead in her tracks. “Excuse me, but I'm not going anywhere with you. I have work to do.”

His dark gaze clashed with hers. “Your work can wait. You owe me an explanation and I intend to get one. Have you forgotten that I'm also an owner in this company?” he asked tightly.

“A mere technicality. I'm buying you out just like I'm buying Leah out.”

His lips twitched and it was hard to tell if it was due to anger or amusement. She got her answer when he said, “I never agreed to sell my part of this company to you. In fact I'm giving serious thought to keeping it. I just might go so far as to talk to your sister
about purchasing her share and be willing to match generously any offer you make. Then, just think, Jocelyn, if that happens, we'll become equal partners.”

Jocelyn tipped her head. She could feel the steam coming out of her ears. Her hand, still holding the screwdriver, itched. She'd never been a violent person but Bas was putting some mighty mean thoughts into her head right now. If he planned to become an equal partner with her, then he had another thought coming.

“Now that I have your attention,” he said, looking down at her, “I think we need to go some place and talk.”

Irritated, annoyed and angered beyond belief, Jocelyn expelled a deep breath. “Fine,” she snapped. “We'll go somewhere to talk. But we'll take my truck.”

Without giving him a chance to say anything, she turned and walked to where her truck was parked. And just as sure as she heard his footsteps right behind her, she knew that she had underestimated Sebastian Steele. It would never happen again.

 

“Just where the hell are you taking me?”

When Jocelyn brought the car to a traffic light, she tilted her head to one side and stared at Bas. Glared at him was more like it. “Not where I really want to take you, trust me.”

Bas frowned. He'd never like smart-mouthed women.

“You wanted to talk so I'm taking you someplace where we can talk.” She gave him a smile. It was polite and phony all rolled into one.

Bas's eyes narrowed. Not only did he not like smart-mouthed women, he liked even less women who thought they had the upper hand. “We don't have to go anywhere in particular,” he decided to say, especially when he saw that damn screwdriver beside her on the seat. “We can talk just fine right now.”

“Not while I'm driving, we can't,” she said, rounding a corner on two wheels. And if that wasn't bad enough, she stepped on the gas to pass a speeding truck.

Bas had the good sense to reach out and spread his hands palms down against the dash. “Slow down. Are you trying to get us killed?”

She let out a short laugh that let him know she was still pretty pissed. “Now why would I want to do that?”

Yes, why indeed,
Bas thought as he tested the shoulder harness of his seat belt. Okay, so maybe he should not have threatened to buy her sister's share—not that he had any intention of doing it anyway. There was one thing he and his brothers would not tolerate and that was anyone trying to come between them, whether it involved a business deal or otherwise. And there was no way he would
have caused problems between Jocelyn and Leah by doing that same thing.

But he had wanted to make a point. When it came to him, she had better not assume anything. The right to sell or not to sell Mason Construction would have been her decision and he would not have taken it away from her. However, she needed to understand that there was such a thing as business respect.

“Okay, we're here.”

He snapped out of his musings when the truck came to a stop. He swore as he hissed out a breath. Where in the world was he? When she nodded her head to the left, he saw the house through the clearing. It was a two-story brick structure with a double garage set in a bevy of tall oak trees that provided a lot of shade. And he could see the clear blue waters of a lake in the back.

“You know the people who live here?” he asked, admiring the structure and the land, which had to be at least ten acres.

“I'm the one who lives here,” she muttered, opening the truck door and getting out.

He frowned as he watched her cross in front of the truck to get the mail out of a brick mailbox. She lived here? When she got back in the truck and thumbed through the letters, he stared at her for a moment then said, “I thought you lived in the house with Jim.”

She glanced up at him. “I moved back home when Dad got sick, but I've been out on my own since I turned twenty-one. I lived in town in an apartment for a few years. I bought this place a year and half ago to stop Reese from burning it down.”

Surprise glinted in the depths of Bas's eyes. “Reese was going to burn it down? Why?”

Jocelyn blew out a breath before tossing the envelopes on top of the dashboard. “This was Singleton land. At least this is the parcel that once belonged to Reese. He had always envisioned him and Leah living here together as man and wife, and without letting her know, he began building this house and was going to surprise her with it on her birthday. She left town before that. Afterward, Reese didn't have the heart to finish it.”

Jocelyn paused a moment as if remembering that time. It was moments later before she continued. “At one point he hated this place, swore he would never finish it and even threatened to burn it to the ground. Dad and I talked him out of it. Told him if he didn't want it he should finish the work on it and sell it. And he did, to me.”

Bas rolled down the window, suddenly needing air. Since he had never allowed a woman to cause him any pain, he could only imagine Reese's heartbreak. Hell, there wasn't a woman alive who could drive him to burn anything, not even a hot dog.

“Does your sister know about this house?” He had yet to meet Leah Mason but already from all accounts she sounded like a selfish person to turn her back on the love of a good man.

“No, she doesn't know
everything
.”

Bas lifted a brow. “What doesn't she know?”

“She knows I bought the house from the Singletons but she doesn't know it had been meant for her.” And now, after finding out the real reason Leah had left Newton Grove, in a way Jocelyn wished she wouldn't find out. That would only add to the guilt her sister was already carrying around.

Starting up the truck again, she said, “We didn't come here to talk about Reese and Leah.”

“No, we didn't,” he said, as she parked her truck in the driveway.

“I come here at least twice a week to get the mail and check on things.” She tossed the words over her shoulder as she got out.

“When will you be moving back?” he asked, getting out the truck, as well.

“I hope in another week or so. I had planned to be back by now, but there's still a lot of Dad's stuff that Leah and I need to go through and I hadn't counted on Leah staying this long past the funeral, although I'm glad she has. And with the cost of gas, living in town has been convenient for me, although I miss the seclusion.”

“You don't mind living this far from town alone?”

“Nope. I'm surrounded by so many people during the day that a secluded lifestyle pretty much suits me in the evenings and at night. Besides, Reese's brother and his wife live on the other side of the lake.”

Bas didn't relish the thought of her living up here alone. His cousin Vanessa had bought a house in a rural section of Charlotte and it was awhile before he or his brothers got used to the idea. They still took turns checking on her every so often.

“Come on inside. I'll fix a pot of coffee and we can talk. I need to get clothes for the rest of the week anyway,” she said as she started up the walkway.

Watching her stride toward the door was giving him a generous view of some very serious curves in her jeans, just like he'd gotten last night. But this time those curves were in motion and he could only stand and appreciate the sway of her hips. The sight was definitely holding him captive and he couldn't help but take the time to admire her. Not for the first time he thought that Jocelyn Mason was a very beautiful woman. Beautiful and tempting. And he quickly reminded himself that she was feisty. Too feisty for her own good…as well as for his.

Evidently noticing that he wasn't following meekly behind her, she stopped and turned around. “You got a problem?”

He recalled that was the same question he had tossed out at her last night. “No, I don't have a problem.”

She nodded and began walking again. It was only then that he decided to follow. At least she had left that damn screwdriver in the car. For some reason he believed that if she got mad enough, she was a woman who made good on her threats.

 

Inside, Bas noted that the house was spacious, allowing a view of most of the rooms from the foyer, including a massive eat-in kitchen.

All the ceilings were vaulted and in the living room a brick fireplace was flanked by built-in bookcases. The furnishings were elegant, traditional, with the leather sofa, love seat, wingback chair and table lamps strategically placed facing the window to get a good view of the mountains. Every item in the room seemed to have a place and the beautiful splashes of earth-tone colors blended well with everything else, including the two oil paintings on the wall.

The dignified furnishings in this house, he noted, reflected a side of Jocelyn he hadn't seen a lot of yet—her prim and proper side. It showed a woman who had good taste and who liked beautiful things. Even the polished wood floors had character.

He reached out and traced a finger along a mahogany curio, noting the intricate detail and the fine craftsmanship. “Nice place and super-nice fur
niture,” Bas said, glancing beyond the foyer and living room to the dining room where the furnishings there was just as elegant, traditional, sturdy.

“Thanks. Reese built all the furniture,” Jocelyn said as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and leaned back against the wet bar that separated the dining room from the kitchen.

Bas's gaze shifted back to her, surprised. “He did?”

“Yes. He has a gift when it comes to using his hands on wood.”

That, Bas thought, was an understatement. The man was definitely gifted. No wonder Jim had left him a tidy sum to start up his own business. He was wasting his talent at Mason Construction.

“This place was really too big for what I had in mind but like I said, I didn't want Reese to get rid of it,” Jocelyn said, reclaiming Bas's attention.