Night Heat. Brenda Jackson

wanted. Just as he’d known they would, they had bought into Dr. Nelson’s recommendation as though it had been the gospel according to St. John. He was thankful his brothers had given him a week to tie up loose ends around the office instead of the two days Dr. Nelson had suggested.

      He stood, crossing his arms over his chest, when the three walked in. There was Chance, who at thirty-seven was the oldest Steele brother and CEO of the corporation. Then came Morgan who was thirty-three and the head of the Research and Development Department. Donovan, at thirty, was in charge of Product Administration. Of the three, Chance was the only one married.

      “I take it that you’re still not excited about taking time off?” Chance said, dipping his hands in his pockets and leaning against the closed door. “But even I knew you were becoming a workaholic, Bas. You need a life.”

      Bas glared. “When did you become an expert in my needs?”

      “Calm down, Bas,” Morgan said, sensing a heated argument brewing between his two older brothers. “Chance is right and you know it. You’ve been spending too much time here. Time away from this place is what you need.”

      “And I’m backing them up,” Donovan said, crossing his arms over his own chest. “Hell, I wish someone would give me three months away from here. I’d haul ass in a second and not look back. Just think of the things you can do in three months, all the women you can—”

      “I’m sure he has more productive things planned,” Chance interrupted Donovan. Bas figured his eldest brother knew just where Donovan was about to go. But Chance’s other assumption was dead wrong. Bas didn’t have anything planned. Before he could voice that thought, there was a knock at the door.

      “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Steele, but this just arrived by way of a courier and it looks important,” his secretary said.

      Bas took the envelope she handed to him and frowned, noting the return address. An attorney in Newton Grove, Tennessee. Seeing the name of the city suddenly brought back memories of a summer he would never forget, and of the man who had turned the life of a troubled young man completely around.

      He ripped into the letter and began reading. “Damn.”

      “Bas, what is it? What’s wrong?”

      Bas glanced up and met his brothers’ worried, yet curious expressions. “Jim Mason has died.”

      Although his brothers had never met Jim, they recalled the name. They also knew what impact Jim Mason had had on Bas. While he was growing up, Bas’s reputation for getting into trouble was legendary and he dropped out of college, deciding to go off and see the world. Sebastian had met Jim when he’d been around twenty-one. In fact, the older man had gotten Bas out of a tight jam when Bas had stopped at a tavern in some small Georgia town for a cold beer and ended up getting into a fight with a few roughnecks. Jim, who’d been passing through the same town after taking his two daughters to their aunt in Florida for the summer, had stopped the fight and had also saved Bas from going to jail after the owner of the tavern accused him of having started the brawl.

      Jim had offered to pay for any damages and then advised Bas he could pay him back by working for his construction company over the summer. Having been raised to settle all his debts, Bas had agreed and had ended up in the small town of Newton Grove.

      That summer Jim had taught Bas more than how to handle a hammer and nails. He’d taught him about self-respect, discipline and responsibility. Bas had returned home to Charlotte at the end of the summer a different person, ready to go back to college and work with his brothers alongside their father and uncle at the Steele Corporation.

      “How did he die?”

      “Who’s the letter from?”

      “What else does it say?”

      Bas sighed. His brothers’ questions were coming to him all at once. “Jim died of pancreatic cancer. The letter is from his attorney and it says that Jim left me part of his company.”

      “The construction company?”

      “Yes. I have a fourth and his younger daughter has a fourth. His older daughter gets half.”

      Bas had never met Jim’s two daughters, Jocelyn and Leah, since they had been in Florida visiting an aunt all that summer, but he knew that the man had loved his girls tremendously and that they had held Jim’s life together after his wife had died.

      Bas quickly read a note that was included in the attorney’s letter. Afterwards, he met his brothers’ curious stare and said warily, “Jim wrote me a note.”

      “What does he want you to do?” Chance asked.

      “He was concerned that his older daughter, Jocelyn, would have a hard time managing the construction company by herself, but would be too proud to ask for help. He wants me to step in for a while and make sure things continue to run smoothly and be there for her if she runs into a bind or anything.”

      “That’s a lot to ask of you, isn’t it?” Donovan asked quietly.

      Bas shook his head. “Not when I think about what Jim did for me that summer.”

      For a long moment the room was quiet and then Morgan said, “Talk about perfect timing. At least now you know what you’ll be doing for the next three months.”

      Bas met the gazes of his three brothers. “Yes, it most certainly looks that way, doesn’t it?”

      Chapter 1

      “And there’s absolutely nothing that can be done to overturn Dad’s request, Jason?”

      Jason Kilgore wiped the sweat from his brow. Over the years his office had survived many things. There’d been that fist fight between a couple who’d been married less than five minutes, and that throwing match between two land owners who couldn’t agree on the location of the boundary lines that separated their properties.

      But nothing, Jason quickly concluded, would remotely compare if Jocelyn Mason took a mind to show how mad she was. Oh, she was pretty upset; there was no doubt about it. She had already worn a path in his carpet and the toe of her booted foot seemed to give the bottom of his wingback chair an unconscious kick each time she passed it.

      “There isn’t anything you can do other than to offer to buy out your sister and Mr. Steele,” he finally said. “Have you spoken to Leah about it?”

      “No.”

      Jason knew that in itself said it all. Jocelyn and Leah had always been as different as night and day. Jocelyn, at twenty-seven, was the oldest by four years and had always been considered a caregiver, someone who was quick to place everyone else’s needs before her own. She also believed in taking time out and having fun, which was why her name always came up to spearhead different committees around town.

      Responsible Jocelyn eventually became the son Jim Mason never had, although he had tried to balance that fact by sending her each summer to visit an aunt in Florida whose job was to train her how to comport herself like a lady. Jason had seen her dressed to the nines in satin and sequins at several social functions in town, and then on occasion, he would run into her in Home Depot wearing jeans and a flannel shirt with a construction work belt around her waist. Jocelyn had managed to play both roles—lady and builder—while working alongside her father in the family business, Mason Construction Company.

      Then there was Leah.

      Jason readily remembered Leah as being one rebellious teenager. After her mother had died when she’d turned thirteen, Leah had become a handful and had given Jim plenty of sleepless nights. She had hated living in Newton Grove and as soon as she turned eighteen, she couldn’t wait to leave home and abandon what she perceived as a dominating father, an overprotective and bossy older sister, and a boyfriend who evidently had been too country to suit her taste. Her return visits over the years had been short and as infrequent as possible. But she had come for the funeral and it was a surprise to everyone that she hadn’t left town yet.

      “Do