He heard her protesting moan when he finally pulled back again. “Got enough or do you want more?” he whispered, finishing her off by taking his tongue and lining the outside of her lips.
“Enough,” Jocelyn said softly, shaking her head as if to clear any lingering passion that had gotten lodged in her brain. His kiss was everything she’d somehow known it would be and then some. She could only stare at him in amazement and wonder. How many practice sessions had he endured to become a fantastic kisser?
Deciding she was better off not knowing, she leaned back and took a step away from the table. She would certainly think twice before she ever got in his face again. Although the kiss had whopped her senses, all it took was seeing the files and folders he’d been going through to make her recall that she was still angry at him for being here.
She crossed her arms over her chest. It was either that or be tempted to reached out and grab him for another kiss. Jeez, what was happening to her? She might not have asked for his kiss but she had wanted it, and would shamefully go so far as to admit that she had anticipated his taste since meeting him.
“I need to know something,” Jocelyn said slowly, struggling to understand why her father had thought Sebastian Steele was needed here.
He glanced up at her. “What?”
“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for here? Did Dad give you any indication that something is wrong with the business? Something that I don’t know about? Something that he didn’t want me to know?”
Bas shrugged his broad shoulders and his gaze was level and calm when he responded, “No.”
She lifted a brow. “Then explain the reason you’re here, because until I understand it, I will continue to fight you at every turn. Dad hadn’t been able to run the company for the past eight months. The chemo treatments took a toll on him. I’ve been in charge of things practically since the first of the year when the cancer was diagnosed, so why did he bring you in? Didn’t he think I could handle things here?”
Bas leaned back in his chair. Evidently she didn’t understand what he did for a living and the way he could benefit Mason Construction during the short time he’d be here. He held up his hand when she started talking again.
“First of all, let me assure you that my being here has nothing do to with your father’s lack of confidence in your abilities, Jocelyn. Over the years, whenever I spoke to Jim he was always singing your praises and telling me what a great job you were doing.”
What he had just told her was the truth and for some reason it was important to him that she believed what he said. He then decided to lean in closer to make sure she was taking in his every word. “I’m a troubleshooter, Jocelyn. Some corporations refer to us as consultants. After I dropped out of college I did a lot of odd jobs, working various places, so I had an in-depth knowledge of organization and customer support services. Your dad convinced me to return home, go back to school and become a part of my family business. When I did return to college, I concentrated on those areas I needed to polish and then went to work full-time with my dad and brothers at our company. My job is to avert trouble before it can cripple a corporation, whether it’s in employee relations or customer services.” Giving her a confident smile he said, “And at the risk of sounding cocky, I’m pretty damn good at what I do.”
He motioned to the files he had spread out around him. “Already I can see several areas within Mason Construction that are red flags.”
He knew she wouldn’t like his observation. He saw the slow flaring of her nostrils, the way her eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, the way her lips turned down faintly. Maybe he was a sicko or something, but seeing the heat rise in her cheeks was actually turning him on. Was that crazy?
“What red flags?”
He studied her features and saw the fire in her eyes and the pout of annoyance around her mouth. He wanted to reach out and skim his fingers across those lips he had kissed just moments ago. Damn, but he really liked her mouth, the shape, texture and taste.
“Bas, I asked you, what red flags?”
His focus returned to her question with the sound of her impatient foot tapping against the hardwood floor. Not to get her dander up any more, he decided to answer. “Like this job for Marcella Jones for instance.”