Night Heat. Brenda Jackson

having any particular place to go, but knowing she wasn’t ready to return home yet, she turned the corner toward the office where Mason Construction was located.

      Jocelyn’s hands tightened on the steering wheel when she pulled into the yard and slipped into the space right next to a car already there. She recognized the dark-blue sedan and immediately the anger she had tried cooling for the past hour rushed back in full force. What was Sebastian Steele doing at the Mason Construction office at nine o’clock at night?

      Barely waiting for her car to come to a complete stop, she quickly unsnapped her seatbelt and then yanked open the car door. There couldn’t be that many files that he had to go over to be practically spending the night here. Angrily, she grabbed her purse before slamming the car door shut. Just what was he looking for in those files anyway?

      When she reached the top step, she could see through the glass door his profile as he sat at the conference table, and without even thinking of surprising him, she snatched open the door and then slammed it shut.

      He turned from the papers he’d been reading and looked at her. And at that moment she wished he hadn’t. There was just something about those dark eyes whenever they lit on her that prompted an overpowering sensation to slide all the way up her spine. Of course she was imagining things but for a moment she thought she felt the floor move. Still, to retain her balance, in case she hadn’t imagined it at all, she tightened her fingers on the strap of her purse and placed pressure on the soles of her feet when he stood up.

      He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. She hated admitting it, but he looked good in black. It did something to the darkness of his eyes and the tone of his complexion. Just looking at him was such a mind-boggling experience that for a moment she forgot what she was upset about. Until a half smile curved his lips.

      Then she quickly remembered.

      “What are you doing here, Bas?”

      Instead of answering her, he said, “I’m curious about something, Jocelyn.”

      At the moment she didn’t give a flip what he was curious about and was hoping her expression told him so. Evidently not, since he then added, “Are you always in such a pleasant mood?”

      She gave him a stony look, one that could probably solidify cement in an instant. “You’re going to see just how pleasant I can be if you don’t answer my question. What are you doing here? This office closes at five o’clock.”

      His smile widened. “My work hours aren’t dictated by a clock. And as to what I’m doing, I’m still working.”

      She glanced at the papers spread out on the table and the stack of files on one of the chairs. She then looked back at him. “Why?”

      He lifted a brow. “Why what?”

      “Why are you here working this time of night? And not only that, why do you feel the need to? You just got here a week ago.”

      “Let’s just say I’m an eager beaver. I believe in getting the job done.”

      Angrily, she shook her head and said, “But there isn’t a job here to do. You can go through whatever you want, but you’ll find everything is in order. Like I’ve said, there is no reason for you to be here.”

      “And my response to that is still the same,” he said, taking his seat back at the table. “Evidently your father thought otherwise.”

      That statement, as usual, triggered Jocelyn’s anger to the boiling point. She crossed the room and slapped her hands, palms down, on the table and leaned in toward him. Their lips were within inches of touching.

      She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it. “Be careful about getting too close, Jocelyn. I’m liable to bite.” And then in an even lower voice, he added, “I’m also known to lick, nibble, taste, sample. Should I go on?”