Brenda Jackson

Night Heat


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to his gut. He frowned and told himself silently that the last thing he needed was to get interested in any woman, especially Jim’s oldest daughter, no matter how tempting she was.

      He had a job to do and he needed to get his mind on doing it and not on doing Jocelyn Mason.

      Jocelyn swallowed back the knot that threatened to block her throat. Why did Sebastian Steele have to look so damn good? And those jeans he had on weren’t helping matters one bit.

      She gritted her teeth, wondering why she found him so attractive, then quickly decided his good looks and well-built body definitely had something to do with it. She jumped when she felt the mobile phone in her back pocket vibrate. Putting aside the paintbrush, she pulled the phone out. A quick check of the caller ID indicated it was Leah.

      For the past five days, ever since the funeral, her sister had mostly spent her time going through their father’s belongings and packing things up to give away. At first they had started doing the task together and then the memories had gotten too much for Jocelyn and she’d asked Leah to finish without her. Her sister had agreed. That was the one thing Jocelyn noticed about Leah since she’d been back. She was a lot more agreeable and less argumentative these days. There was a time when the two of them would disagree about almost anything, including the weather.

      “Yes, Leah?”

      “Just wanted you to know I cooked dinner and I thought it would be nice if we invited a guest.”

      Jocelyn moved her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. She definitely didn’t have a problem with Leah preparing dinner since her sister was a pretty good cook, but she did have a problem with the suggestion of a guest. She couldn’t help wondering if Leah was finally going to come out of hiding and face Reese by inviting him to dinner. She had done a pretty good job of avoiding him the few times she’d returned home over the past five years.

      “And just who will this dinner guest be?” she asked, curious as to how many languages Reese would say the words hell no in when he got the invitation from Leah.

      “Jason called for you a short while ago and happened to mention that Mr. Steele arrived in town today.”

      “And what of it?” Jocelyn asked, leaning back against a wall she hadn’t started painting yet.

      “I think it would be a good idea to invite him to dinner. After all, he was Dad’s friend.”

      “But that doesn’t make him ours,” she snapped, looking down at the hammer she had placed at her feet. She then glanced across the room at Bas. It was a tempting thought but she quickly decided that nothing and no one was worth going to jail.

      “But I want to meet him. Aren’t you curious?”

      Jocelyn rolled her eyes. “I’ve met him and prefer not spending unnecessary time in his company.”

      “You’ve met him?”

      “Yes.”

      “When?”

      “Earlier today at Jason’s office.”

      “Well, what do you think of him?”

      Jocelyn glanced back across the room. Bas was staring at her and it annoyed her that she felt a quick tightening in her stomach. She wished she could blame it on something like indigestion but knew she couldn’t. “There’s no way I could sum up what I think of him in twenty-five words or less.”

      “I didn’t ask you to.”

      Jocelyn couldn’t help but smile. Now this was the Leah she was used to, someone always ready for a fight, and not the mousy person Jocelyn had picked up from the airport a couple of days before the funeral.

      “Well, then,” Jocelyn decided to say, “how about infuriating, maddening, annoying, irritating, exasperating, galling—”

      “Okay, okay, I get the picture, at least yours. I’d rather take my own snapshot and form my own opinion.”

      “Fine, then count me out.”

      “Aren’t you being a little immature?”

      That did it. Taking a slow, steadying breath, Jocelyn walked around the wall into a bathroom whose fixtures had yet to arrive. What she had to say to her sister needed to be said in private.

      Closing the door behind her, she braced herself against the area where the pedestal sink would be and said rather heatedly, “How can you of all people fix your mouth to call anyone immature, Leah? I’m not the one who acted like a spoiled, immature brat by up and leaving home without as much as a goodbye, leaving her family worried for over a week before we finally heard from her.”

      Jocelyn knew now was not the time and place to unload feelings she’d held inside for years, but she’d done it and there was no way she could take back her words. Nor did she want to.

      There was silence on the other end, and then Leah said in a somewhat quiet and unsteady voice, “There was a reason I left the way I did, Jocelyn, and maybe it’s time I tell you why. At least that’s what I’ve been told I should do.”

      Jocelyn felt an uncomfortable feeling in the center of her stomach. “Told by whom?”

      “Look, I’ll tell you everything when I’m able to talk about it, okay? Now getting back to Sebastian Steele, be forewarned. I do intend to invite him to dinner before I leave, Jocelyn.”

      “Leave? When are you leaving?” That uncomfortable feeling about being deserted by those she cared about was becoming unnerving. She lifted a hand to her chest, feeling a tug at her heart at the thought that she was losing her sister again, so soon after losing her father.

      “I don’t know, but I won’t leave without telling you. I promise.”

      Before she could say anything, Jocelyn heard the gentle click in her ear. She took a deep breath. Her palms suddenly felt sweaty and she rubbed them against her jeans after returning the mobile phone to her back pocket. She had a feeling something was going on with Leah. But what?

      She swung around when she heard the bathroom door swing open and her gaze collided with that of Sebastian Steele. She narrowed her eyes, madder than hell. “Don’t you believe in knocking?”

      He shrugged his broad shoulders as he leaned in the doorway. “I figured you couldn’t be doing anything too private in here without any fixtures.”

      He was right, of course, but still. “Any closed door is an indication that a knock is warranted before entering,” she retorted.

      He shook his head. “Save your rules for another time. We need to talk.”

      “We have nothing to discuss.”

      She made a move to walk past him when he said, “Reese just let Manuel go on my recommendation.”

      She stopped and swung around to him, nearly all in his face. “What?” she almost shouted at the top of her lungs, not caring her that her high-pitched voice didn’t at all sound professional. “Manuel’s the best and most dependable worker I have.”

      “Sorry, but you’re going to have to find someone to replace him.”

      Jocelyn suddenly saw red, blood-red, and she fought the urge to go find her hammer and start knocking a few heads. First Bas’s and then Reese’s. She couldn’t believe Reese had meekly followed Bas’s orders without first consulting her. “How dare you think you can come in here and—”

      “He’s an illegal immigrant.”

      Jocelyn’s mouth snapped shut and her gaze widened as if she’d been slapped by Bas’s words. Impossible was the first word that came into her mind. Manuel had worked for her father for almost a year. There was no way Jim Mason would have broken the law by hiring an illegal immigrant. “I don’t believe you. We have his citizenship papers on file at the office.”

      Bas then said easily, “Any papers you have are bogus. When I asked to see his green