“No, but yesterday morning I walked up on her staring into the display window of that baby store in town…and she was crying.”
“Oh.” Jocelyn pressed a hand to her chest as if she could feel her sister’s pain. Poor Leah. She hadn’t been crying for what she had, but for what she thought she could never have—Reese’s child.
“Well, is she pregnant?”
She heard the anger in his voice and the pain. The thought that Leah might be pregnant with another man’s child had to be hurting him deeply. At least that was one pain Jocelyn could take away. “No, she’s not pregnant.”
“How do you know for sure? She might be and just hasn’t told you.”
“Because I know,” she snapped, feeling the need to come to Leah’s defense, considering everything. “She can’t be pregnant.”
Reese frowned deeply. “You don’t know that.”
“I do know that,” she said, rounding on him angrily. “She hasn’t been involved with anyone since you and—” Jocelyn stopped abruptly, fearing she might have said too much.
“What the hell do you mean she hasn’t been involved with anyone since me? Do you actually believe that lie?” he asked incredulously. “I never thought you of all people would be that gullible.”
Jocelyn’s eyes flashed fire. “Yes, I believe it because…”
He lifted a brow. “Because what?”
Disgusted with herself and the entire situation and knowing if Neil Grunthall wasn’t dead already he would have been by the end of the day, she released a frustrated sigh. “Look, Reese, forget I said anything.”
“What are you not telling me, Jocelyn?” he asked, grabbing her arm.
She snatched it back, although it cost her to do so. She would love for him to know what she wasn’t telling him. “Look, let it be, okay? All you need to know is that Leah isn’t pregnant.” She turned to leave but Reese called out to her and she turned back around. “What?”
“Just in case I don’t see you in the morning, I’m cutting out a little early tomorrow. Two of Bas’s brothers are coming in and I plan to take them up to Cedar Springs for the weekend to do a little fishing.”
“Fine,” she said, shoving both hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Enjoy yourselves.”
Then she turned back around and continued walking.
“Thanks for a great weekend, Reese,” Bas said on Sunday afternoon as he got out of Reese’s truck and gathered his belongings. “There were good lodgings, good company, good fishing and damn good beer. What more can a man ask for?”
“Nothing’s wrong with a good woman every now and then,” Reese answered, grinning.
“Hell, but not on a fishing trip. They get too squeamish and want you to have pity and throw your catch back. Women and fishing don’t mix.”
Reese gave a smooth laugh. “You must have never gone fishing with the right woman. Leah could handle just—” He stopped suddenly, then said. “Oh, hell, dammit to three degrees. I promised myself that I wouldn’t mention her name, much less think about her this weekend. She’s not worth the effort.”
Bas shook his head. “Evidently she is. What has it been? Five years? And you’re still carrying a torch? That was some kind of love.”
Reese’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. It would be useless to deny he was still carrying a torch. “Yeah, and she didn’t deserve any of it.”
“Seems you haven’t convinced your heart of that yet. See you around, buddy.”
Moments later Bas entered the cabin he had purchased with his brothers’ blessings as investment property for the Steele Corporation. Reese, Morgan and Donovan had helped him to move in Friday afternoon then they had left to go fishing Saturday morning.
He couldn’t help but ponder the fact that Reese was still in love with a woman who had torn out his heart and stomped on it. Bas was damn grateful he had never been in love. Even when he was engaged to Cassandra, he’d liked her, been fond of her, but not once did he think he loved her. Their marriage would have been a sort of business arrangement. With thirty staring her in the face, she wanted a husband who could keep her in the lifestyle she was accustomed to, and he’d wanted a proper lady who was refined as well as beautiful. What he hadn’t been looking for but what he’d found in Cassandra had also been snobbery to a degree he just couldn’t tolerate.
A half hour later, after taking a very relaxing shower, Bas walked out of the bathroom. Wrapped in a towel, not yet ready to put on any clothes, he crossed the room to look out the window, liking the view. Mountains in the distance and a small stream out back provided a picturesque scene. This could be a place he, his brothers or cousins could use when they just wanted to get away. Privacy was golden sometimes, and everybody needed it on occasion.
When he’d told Ms. Sadie that he had purchased the cabin and would be moving, she had smiled and made him promise to eat properly. But he had a feeling she would continue to show up at the office at lunch time with a fruit basket for him. In a way he looked forward to her visits, even realizing he actually enjoyed eating fruit.
After a few moments, Bas suddenly felt antsy and considered driving to the office to work on more files, but he quickly decided against it. This had been a relaxing weekend, and he didn’t want to spoil it. He couldn’t help the smile that touched his lips at that moment. He had been glad to see Morgan and Donovan, although he would never admit it to them. And Reese had been the perfect host. The four of them had fished to their hearts’ content, drunk as much beer as their bellies could hold and talked about anything and everything…except women. They hadn’t had much time to think of women, either.
But now, back in the privacy of his little place, Bas’s mind was once again filled with thoughts of Jocelyn. He couldn’t help wondering what she was doing. Had she thought of him any this weekend? Was the kiss they’d shared a few nights ago still seared on her brain the same way it was on his?
His lips quirked. There was only one way to find out. He wanted to see her. He needed to see her. Damn, he needed to kiss her again. He grinned. This was the first time he’d ever gotten addicted to a woman’s taste and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it other than feed his habit.
“So you’re Sebastian Steele.”
Bas nodded. If the woman who’d opened the door to him was Leah Mason, then he could understand why after five years Reese hadn’t been able to eradicate her from his heart. She was a woman a man wouldn’t be able to forget easily. But then so was her sister.
“Yes, I’m Sebastian and you’re Leah, right?”
“Yes, I’m Leah. I’m glad I finally got to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Bas refused to throw out the cliché “all good I hope,” since he knew if it came from Jocelyn that would not have been the case. “And I’m glad I finally got to meet you,” he said slipping his hands into his pockets. “I was wondering if Jocelyn is home.”
Leah smiled. “Yes, she’s home but not here. She’s at her place right outside of town. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes, I think I do.” In all honesty, the day she had taken him there he had been too busy trying to survive the truck ride to care about the direction in which she’d been driving.
“It’s real easy to find,” she said, giving him instructions.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’d like to invite you over for dinner one night when you’re free. Dad thought a lot of you and I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Thanks and the same here. Good night.”
“Good night.”
When she closed the door, Bas turned and quickly walked back to his car. More than anything he wanted to see Jocelyn.
Leah smiled, wondering if she should give Jocelyn a call to prepare her for Sebastian Steele’s visit, then decided not to. Whether her sister admitted it or not she knew something was going on between those two. She smiled and went to the sofa to settle back down with her book.
She’d never known Jocelyn to
have a boyfriend. Oh, she had gone out on dates but had never gotten serious about anyone. Now it looked like that history was about to change.
Jocelyn tapped a finger to her lips as she glanced around the room. She had gone shopping yesterday and purchased this beautiful hand-carved vase, and she wasn’t quite certain of the best spot for it.
The coffee table or the bookcase?
She was leaning toward the coffee table when her doorbell sounded. She automatically assumed it was Rita, Reese’s brother’s wife from across the lake.
Instead of asking who it was, she snatched open the door, only to find Sebastian Steele. His tall, broad-shouldered frame lounged against her porch rail, a dark silhouette, barely distinguishable in the faint light spilling out from her foyer.
Caught completely by surprise, she needed a moment before she could say anything. When she found her voice she said, “I usually don’t open the door before finding out who it is first. I assumed you were my neighbor.”
His lips twitched briefly. “I thought we had a serious discussion about the dangers of assuming anything.”
She tipped her head and stared at him. Emotions she didn’t need or want began clogging her throat. “What are you doing here, Bas?” she asked tightly. She hadn’t seen him in three days and she wished to God she hadn’t been counting. But she had.
Bas pushed away from the rail and took a couple of steps forward. He figured if he were to tell her the real reason for his visit—that he wanted to devour her mouth—the door would get slammed in his face, so instead he said, “It’s early. I didn’t want to go to the office, and I wasn’t ready to go to bed yet. We had a great weekend down at Cedar Springs and I could only think of one way to end it.”
“And what way is that?” Jocelyn’s fingers tightened around the doorknob. Her mind was suddenly filled with forbidden yet romantic thoughts. Bas’s gaze was locked on hers and she was beginning to feel this luscious, hot sensation flow all through her. She even felt the floor beneath her feet give way a little. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and in response she felt something tug deep in the pit of her stomach. Her world began to rock and she waited with bated breath for his reply.
“A rematch. I want to play another game of pinball with you.”
Chapter 10
Jocelyn drew a breath, leaned in the doorway and stared at Bas. She guessed she should have been grateful that a game of pinball was all he had in mind but still…It wasn’t helping matters that since meeting him and sharing two kisses, her body had become somewhat treacherous whenever he was around.
Her system automatically went on overload and it took everything she could muster to retain the common sense she was born with and had kept intact over the years. But another part of her being reminded her that she’d been celibate for a very long time…ever since senior year in college over six years ago. Why let the explosive spontaneous combustion she felt with Bas go to waste?
Because you’re too sensible and dignified to play the games men want to play, she assured herself immediately. Although she was single, mature and unattached, with basic human urges like the next person, that didn’t mean she was into casual sex. When the time came for a man to touch her again, by golly it would mean something and not be an appeasement of curiosity like the last time, which had left her totally disappointed.
“So you want to play pinball?” she finally asked, cocking her brow. “Didn’t you learn anything from our last game?”
He flashed a quick grin. “Oh yeah, I learned a lot. I know not to let my guard down again.”
“Is that what happened?”
“Yes. I concentrated more on you than the game.”
She hadn’t expected him to admit that. “So what’s your game plan this time?”
“Do you really expect me to tell you?”
She chuckled. “No, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask.” She stepped aside. “Come on in and let the game begin.”
An hour or so later Jocelyn glanced over at Bas and narrowed her eyes. He was leading by over one hundred thousand points and she was the one who was finding it hard to concentrate on the game. Frustration began to surface. It wasn’t that she didn’t like losing; she just didn’t like the reason she was losing—her inability to focus.
“Winning this rematch means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” she finally asked when he scored once again.
He grinned over at her. “Worried about losing?”
“No. But it does seem like you’re deliberately dragging this game out.”
“While staying ahead in points.”
“For the moment, yes.”
“Um, I’m just consolidating my shots and economizing my ball time,” he said. “A strategy that works best for me.”
“You’re working too hard as usual,” she said coming to stand close to him, but not close enough to mess with his concentration. “All I do is focus on the shots I can hit consistently and patiently repeat them. In a game of pinball you can never lose control.”
“Or concentration, so please step back, Jocelyn. Your perfume is getting to me.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“In what way?”
His eyes flashed to hers. “I don’t think you really want to know.”
Jocelyn raised an arched brow. Did she or didn’t she? She was pulled out of her thoughts by his muttered curse. He hadn’t used his flippers fast enough and it was now her turn.
“Move over Steele. Time for me to recoup.”
Deciding not to crowd her, Bas took the chair a few feet away and watched her in action. He liked seeing the way her eyes sparkled with the feel of victory and the way she licked her lips each time she deployed a ball. Then there was that simple turn of her head, the smile that tilted her lips whenever she hit a shot that made the machine flash.
And last but definitely not least was the way she leaned her body just so to the machine, breasts perked, hips aligned at an angle that had heat drumming through him. Even with her trying to best him at this game, he detected a gracefulness in the ease in which she was attempting to do so. The woman had style, something he noted even when she was holding a hammer, saw or a drill.
She had taste. And she tasted good.
He rubbed a hand over his face wishing he hadn’t thought about her taste.
When the machine flashed that the game was over, he barely heard her unladylike curse, which let him know he had won this go-round.
“Want to do another game?”
He smiled. “No, we agreed on five and I won four of the five, which means I’m on top of you this time.”
Although Jocelyn knew what he meant by those words, her mind suddenly conjured up something else and heat clawed viciously at the lower part of her stomach. She could just imagine him naked and on top of her beneath silken sheets. “Okay, so now I want a rematch,” she said, needing to get her mind back on track and wondering how she had allowed it to veer into such an outlandish fantasy in the first place.
“I’ll think about it.”
Her eyes flamed. “What do you mean you’ll think about it?”
He stood and slowly walked in front of her. “Just what I said.” He smiled. “Now who’s the sore loser?”
“I’m not a sore loser,” she denied.
“Then why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
“If not, you’re awfully close,” he said in a husky tone.
He reached out and took her hand in his, letting his fingers run across her wrist to feel her pulse. “Those are anger beats.”
“They’re not,” she said, refusing to let the feel of his finger on her wrist unnerve her, stoke a desire she didn’t want to acknowledge.
“And why are your eyes getting so dark if you aren’t mad?” he asked in an even deeper tone of voice.
“They aren’t getting dark.”
“Yes, they are and getting even darker as we speak.” The hand that wasn’t stroking her wrist reached up and
framed her face. “And why are your lips trembling if you aren’t mad?”
She frowned. “You’re seeing things.”
He leaned in a little closer and let a single fingertip trace a path down to the base of her throat. “No, Jocelyn. I’m feeling things and I think it’s time you felt them, too.”
Suddenly, the air around them seemed to thicken as he leaned closer and lowered his mouth to hers. The moment their lips touched, lust of an intensity Jocelyn had never known flamed to life, and everything inside her, every cell, every pore, quivered with totally unique and unexpected pleasure.
When his tongue plundered her mouth, she felt her knees slipping and her nipples tingling against her blouse. Just as before, his tongue was in control, taking, giving and sharing. It was the most conducive pleasure mechanism she had ever felt, and with each and every stroke it was hitting its mark. She was beginning to feel drunk, intoxicated, just plain loose. He smelled good. The scent of him was going straight to her head and the taste of him was getting absorbed in areas she’d rather not think about. This kiss was different from the others, though. It was slow, deep, provoking. And overwhelming. Each time he mated his tongue with hers, captured it, sucked on it, she heard herself moan.
Reluctantly Bas broke the kiss, inhaled deeply before drawing her closer to him. He needed that. He needed her. He wanted to touch her a little while longer, let his hands skim slowly across her back. Apparently she felt at ease in letting him do so because she stood still, wrapped in his arms, in his heat.
Moments later, she pulled back, angled her head and gazed up at him and smiled slowly. Her eyes were still dark, her lips moist from his kiss. “If you’re trying to make me forget that I want a rematch, forget it.”
He released a soft chuckle and leaned down to let his lips brush against hers again, needing the taste, the feel, the touch. “Then I’m going to have to perfect my technique.”
She doubted he could perfect it any more, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “You can try.”
“And I will.” Bas smiled. He liked the art of seduction as much as the next guy, although he hadn’t had to contemplate a plan in quite a while. They weren’t talking about pinball anymore but something else, and they both knew it.
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