Forged Of Steele Bundle Part 32

"Yes, it's the third."

"Then there's a reason she keeps coming back."

"Yes, to get on everyone's last nerve."

"But at some point it has to stop. I suggest we try it. The next time she makes changes tell her Mason Construction has implemented a new policy and then explain the surcharges to her."

Jocelyn hated admitting that what he was suggesting sounded reasonable, but as she'd told him earlier, Marcella would never go along with it. Her family had money, the man she'd married had money, and she liked to flaunt that fact. She was used to getting anything she wanted, no matter whom she inconvenienced.

"Like I said, it won't work."

"Try it. What do you have to lose?"

"Her business."

Bas chuckled. "I doubt if she would do anything that drastic this late in the building phase."

Jocelyn sighed deeply. She didn't relish the thought of Bas meeting up with Marcella, given her reputation as a married woman with a roving eye. But Jocelyn quickly decided that Bas was old enough to handle his own business and he deserved a confrontation with someone like Marcella. It would be the first real test he'd fail.

"Fine, if you want to tangle with Marcella then go right ahead, but don't say I didn't warn you," she tossed over her shoulder as she moved down the hall.

When she got to her office, she closed the door behind her, immediately dismissing Marcella from her thoughts. Instead she thought about the kiss she'd shared with Bas. Okay, they had kissed and it was out of her system. She licked her lips still moist with his taste. Out of her system? Not by a long shot.

Chapter 4.

Bas tossed aside another folder before looking at his watch. It was close to midnight. He'd accomplished a lot in his first week and felt pretty good about it. As he'd told Jocelyn, already he'd come across several red flags. Luckily, none of them were major and all could be taken care of before they reached problem status.

And speaking of Jocelyn...

He frowned at the stillness, the silence, the complete lack of sound. At one point during the night he had heard the keys of a computer clicking, the opening and closing of file cabinets and the soft hum of a song from a feminine voice. But now he heard nothing and since she would have had to pa.s.s him to leave, he could only a.s.sume she was still here. And if she was, just what the heck was she doing?

Curiosity had him standing and making his way down the narrow hallway. The door to her office was ajar and he could see that the room was crammed with a desk, a computer and several file cabinets, not to mention a number of healthy-looking green plants. He knocked.

"Come in."

He pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside, glancing around. Jocelyn was stretched out on a sofa, flat on her stomach, in a comfortable position. And she was...coloring. He blinked, certain he was seeing things, but he wasn't. She had a thick coloring book and a huge box of crayons in front of her and was diligently at work. Instead of a twenty-seven-year-old woman, she reminded him of a ten-year-old.

All it took was a look at those serious curves outlined beneath her jeans and blouse to know she was definitely no kid; however, there was something about her gliding that crayon across the page that gave her an air of innocence. At that moment some unknown force crept into him and he was touched by a degree of tenderness he experienced only on very good days and then solely for certain people. Unable to help himself, he crossed the room and stared down at her for a moment. "What are you doing?"

She glanced up as if annoyed at the interruption. "What does it look like? I'm coloring." She then turned her attention back to her paper.

"Okay," he said, as if the reason made perfect sense. He decided to press further by asking, "Why?"

She didn't bother to look up when she responded. "Why what?"

Now he was getting annoyed. "Why are you coloring in a book at midnight? In fact, why are you coloring at all?"

She pushed the coloring book aside and pulled herself up to a sitting position. "I'm coloring because it's something I like doing. Always have. It relaxes me."

She studied him for a moment then asked, "Isn't there something you used to do as a kid that you've carried into your adult life?"

Bas thought long and hard then answered. "Yes, now that I think about it, there is something."

"What?"

"Basketball. My brothers and I grew up playing basketball together, and we still do every Sat.u.r.day morning, although now we do it for a different reason. It's no longer just for fun."

Jocelyn lifted a brow. "What is it for now?"

He smiled. "To leave our egos on the court." At the confused expression that crossed her features, he decided to explain.

"I have three brothers and all of us work at the Steele Corporation. We're different in personality and temperament, and it's not easy for us to work together because of our strong differences of opinions. Playing a game of basketball every Sat.u.r.day morning helps get rid of any compet.i.tive frustrations we might have before the start of a new week. I'm really going to miss not being there to do that," he said, chuckling. "It will give Morgan a chance to elbow someone else in the ribs for a while."

"Um, sorry you'll be missing the game each week, but if you're nice I'll let you borrow my crayons," she said teasingly.

"Thanks but I'll pa.s.s."

"Hey, coloring is fun, so don't knock it," she said, placing a playful pout on her lips.

Looking at her mouth Bas couldn't help but think about the kiss they had shared earlier. Now that that had been fun. Kissing her had been such a delicious, intimate contact and had proven him right. She did have kissable lips. The moment he had coaxed her tongue into his mouth and latched on to it for all it was worth, he'd thought he'd actually felt the ground shake. The softness of her tongue had made him want to continue kissing her, the taste of her had tempted him to do more. Self-control eventually made him end the kiss. And that same self-control was keeping him from leaning in close and reclaiming her mouth now. had been fun. Kissing her had been such a delicious, intimate contact and had proven him right. She did have kissable lips. The moment he had coaxed her tongue into his mouth and latched on to it for all it was worth, he'd thought he'd actually felt the ground shake. The softness of her tongue had made him want to continue kissing her, the taste of her had tempted him to do more. Self-control eventually made him end the kiss. And that same self-control was keeping him from leaning in close and reclaiming her mouth now.

"And you probably don't watch cartoons either, do you?"

Her question intruded into his thoughts and he figured that was a good thing, since what he'd been thinking was liable to get him in trouble. "No, I don't do cartoons, either."

"Not even Finding Nemo? Finding Nemo?"

"Didn't know he was lost, so no, not even Finding Nemo Finding Nemo."

He watched her shudder as if the very thought of anyone not having seen that particular movie was incredible. Pretty much the same way he felt about anyone not eating Kentucky Fried Chicken.

"So tell me, Sebastian Steele, just what do you do for fun?" she asked, regaining his attention.

"Fun?"

"Yes, fun. You know, the activity that you're supposed to do when work ends."

"Work for me doesn't end. I enjoy what I do."

"I enjoy what I do too, but not 24/7. Come on, get with it. Everyone is ent.i.tled to some fun time to just unwind, regroup and relieve stress. Don't you believe in work/life balance?"

Bas chuckled. Work/life balance? Was there really such a thing? She was beginning to sound like his brothers, who thought too much work with no playtime was a deadly sin. If that was the case, then he was looking h.e.l.l straight in the face, since he was used to working into the wee hours of the morning. As long as he could grab a few hours of sleep and wake up the next morning to a decent-tasting cup of coffee, then he was good to go.

Knowing that she was waiting for a response, he said, "I get my work/life balance when I go to sleep."

"Oh. And how many hours do you sleep each night?"

He was beginning to dislike her questions. "I get enough sleep. And speaking of sleep, it's late and I was about to leave."

"Okay. Good night."

He raised a brow and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "Aren't you leaving, too?"

"No, I plan to hang around awhile and color a few more pages," she said, brus.h.i.+ng aside a curl that had fallen on her cheek.

He frowned, not liking her answer and not liking the fact that he was tempted to reach out and curl that lock of hair around his finger and tilt her mouth to his and...

d.a.m.n. He quickly sucked in a deep breath, determined to bring his heated thoughts back on track. He then forced himself to concentrate on what she had said about not leaving yet. There was no way he was going to leave her here alone at this time of night. "What's your day like tomorrow?"

"Since we can't do anything at the Jones place until the inspector gets there to check things out, which probably won't be until after lunch, I'm going to be at school in the morning."

He c.o.c.ked his head to one side, trying to figure out what she was talking about. "School? Are you taking a cla.s.s or something? "

"No. I offer my a.s.sistance to several schools where they need more help in the cla.s.srooms. Budget cuts have made smaller cla.s.s sizes impossible, so I do what I can to help out. It's something I enjoy doing. For me it's another fun activity. And then at noon I have a business meeting." She raised her hand over her head as if to stretch the kinks from her upper body.

He tried not to notice how the stretching made her blouse tighten over her firm b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He cleared his throat. "Sounds like you have a rather full schedule tomorrow, which is all the more reason you should go home and get a good night's sleep. Let's go."

When she didn't move and sat there glaring at him, he lifted a brow. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes, there's a problem," she said, standing and placing her hands on her hips. "First of all, let's get a few things straight right now. You are not my keeper so don't tell me when to go or when to stay. Secondly, I don't like interruptions during what I consider my fun time, and thirdly, why should you care about how much sleep I get? Your concern should be with Mason Construction, and I hope you'll do what you came here to do then leave before getting too underfoot."

"Too underfoot?" he growled, not liking what she'd just said. In record speed he crossed the room and before she could blink, he had her backed up against a wall, his body pressed intimately to hers. "You wouldn't know underfoot if it bit you, Jocelyn. This This is underfoot," he said heatedly, roughly, with more than a tinge of anger. "And yet this isn't as close as it can get." is underfoot," he said heatedly, roughly, with more than a tinge of anger. "And yet this isn't as close as it can get."

He leaned in closer and whispered across her lips. "Don't push me," he warned huskily. "Especially for all the wrong reasons."

She frowned, refusing to back down. "With you there won't be any right reasons. And if I didn't make myself clear the first time then I'll repeat myself. You don't tell me what to do."

Bas inhaled deeply. For some reason she was itching for a fight, but he wasn't in a mood to accommodate her tonight. And she had no idea how close she was to being thoroughly kissed again. However, with her temper flaring, he knew better than to try it, although he couldn't stop the images flas.h.i.+ng through his mind of all the other things he would love doing to her. Since he hadn't slept with a woman in over eight months he was h.o.r.n.y as h.e.l.l and it wouldn't take much to tumble her back on that d.a.m.n sofa and seduce the h.e.l.l out of her. But he had to remember the key element he'd learned and one he hadn't grasped during his teen years-discipline. He knew how to pull back and behave properly when he needed to, and this was one of those times.

His eyes met hers and he gazed into their angry depths. But he was experienced enough to see beyond the anger and notice something else, something she was trying like h.e.l.l to fight-deep longing, need and heated desire. Those were the last things a man in his predicament needed to see in a woman's eyes.

Mustering his self-control and discipline, he took a step back. "Look, it's been a long and tiring day. How about if we call a truce tonight and go get some sleep, okay?"

Jocelyn sighed. Although she didn't like admitting it, Bas was right. It had had been a long and tiring day, and having to deal with what Leah had told her had definitely taken a toll. Besides, she heard the weariness in his voice and if sleeping was the only way he got his work/life balance, then she definitely didn't want to stand in his way. been a long and tiring day, and having to deal with what Leah had told her had definitely taken a toll. Besides, she heard the weariness in his voice and if sleeping was the only way he got his work/life balance, then she definitely didn't want to stand in his way.

"Okay, I'll leave but only because I want to and not because you told me to," she said, putting away her coloring book and crayons.

"Here, take this. The temperature has dropped quite a bit since you got here," he said, taking off his jacket and placing it around her shoulders before she had time to protest. But he saw the stubborn set of her chin and the indecision that lit her eyes, and for a moment he wondered if she would s.n.a.t.c.h his jacket off. He was a little surprised when she said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

After locking up, they walked to their cars together, neither saying anything. After opening her car door and sliding behind the steering wheel, she was about to remove his jacket when he said, "No, you can keep it. I have another one."

When she opened her mouth to say something, he held up his hands and chuckled. "A truce remember? And it's too late to argue."

She nodded. "Fine, but I'll give it back to you tomorrow."

"Do whatever you want and drive carefully tonight."

Jocelyn watched while he walked to his own car, trying not to notice the way his jeans covered firm, muscular thighs and a too-fine b.u.t.t. The tingle that suddenly spread through her was so strong that her grip tightened on the steering wheel and her breath whooshed out from her lungs.

She pulled herself together, and as she switched on the ignition she inhaled deeply to get her breathing back right again. Moments later she noted that he had no intentions of pulling away until she did. Glancing down at the black leather jacket, the one with the strong scent of man, she breathed in deeply once again. She'd had every intention of giving back his jacket when he had first placed it around her shoulders, but then the alluring aroma was absorbed into her nostrils at the same time her body was flooded with soothing warmth, and she'd decided to keep it on. The man could certainly be a gentlemen when he wanted to be.

"Okay, he's nice but I still don't like him," she muttered out loud.

And as she backed out of the parking s.p.a.ce and headed toward home, she had to reaffirm her dislike for him several more times.

"Are you taking your medicine like you're supposed to, Bas? What about getting an adequate amount of rest? Are you eating right?"

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 h.e.l.lo, 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 babysitting 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."