Night Heat (Forged of Steele 2)

Maybe it was the way he tipped his head whenever she was talking to let her know she had his absolute attention. Or it might have been the slow and methodical way he sipped his wine that had heat thrumming through her body each time she watched the liquid pass down his throat. Or maybe, just maybe, it had been the toe-curling kiss she couldn’t seem to forget. Each time his tongue got hold of hers it was as if he was branding it while she went soaring into mind-blowing passion.

Jocelyn groaned. She’d never let any man get to her the way Bas was doing. But then she had to reconcile herself to the fact that there was a first time for everything.

Across town someone was having a similar rough morning. Bas frowned when he looked down at the bowl Ms. Sadie had placed in front of him. Oatmeal?

He had been deprived of a good night’s sleep and he’d be damned if he’d be deprived of a good breakfast, as well. Where were the bacon, sausage, grits, eggs and toast whose aroma had awakened him that morning?

He glanced up and found Sadie Robinson looking at him with a smug smile. She had the nerve to say, “And if you drop by for lunch I’ll prepare you a luscious fruit salad.”

His frown deepened. When he thought of fruit he didn’t think of luscious. When he thought of Jocelyn he thought of luscious, which was one of the reasons he hadn’t slept well.

But that didn’t explain why he was only getting oatmeal for breakfast and fruit for lunch. He was more than certain Ms. Sadie hadn’t run out of food, since yesterday he’d noticed on his way out that she tended to cook a rather large quantity of everything. So what was going on?

Not taking his gaze off her, he asked in as calm a voice as he could, “Is there something going on that I should know about?”

Sadie never took her eyes off Bas either when she responded in a not-so-innocent voice, “Why would you think that?”

Ordinarily, Bas might let the matter go, eat the damn oatmeal and be merry about it. But not this morning after having had dream after dream of a woman he’d best leave alone. He might never make love to her in reality but in his fantasies he could still see the heated look in the depths of her dark-brown eyes each and every time he—

“Besides, oatmeal is good for you.”

Sadie’s words interrupted his thoughts. A frustrated gush of air shot from his lungs and he leaned back in his chair and stared at the older woman with a look that usually told his brothers and cousins to back off. Evidently she didn’t get the message because she continued talking.

“It’s a good thing I noticed your medication while cleaning your room yesterday or I would never have known you were on a restricted diet. And now that I know I—”

“You were in my room yesterday?” he interrupted her, leaning forward in the chair and piercing her with an even deeper look.

“How else do you think it got clean?”

Bas’s scowl deepened but it didn’t seem to affect Sadie Robinson any. “So you snooped into my things?” he asked incredulously.

She waved her hand in the air. “Of course not. The pill bottle was right there on the counter in the bathroom. I had to pick it up and move it to clean off the area. Of course, when I did I couldn’t help but notice you’re taking the same medication my Albert used to take.”

Her Albert? Bas hadn’t realized she was married. “And where is your Albert?”

“Dead.”

Out of respect, he bit back the word damn as he rubbed a hand down his face. That was all he needed to know. Her Albert who used to take the same medication he took was dead. Although Bas wished he could move on without asking the next question, something inside him made him inquire anyway.

“And how did he die?”

“He had high blood pressure and although the medication helped, he refused to give up some of his favorite foods that were killing him. And knowing what happened to Albert, I can’t in good conscience allow the same thing to happen to you.”

Bas lifted a brow, sure he’d heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I said I won’t allow the same thing to happen to you. My Albert only thought of himself. He should have cared enough to want to live longer so he could be here with me while we spent our retirement years together. But he didn’t take care of himself and now he’s gone. We were married almost fifty years and had four beautiful children and he didn’t live long enough to be around for the first great-grand. I tried to tell him to eat healthy. I even offered to prepare him all the foods that were better for him. But he refused to give up that steak twice a week, as well as the potatoes, the bread and let’s not talk about the desserts.”