Trapped with the Tycoon(11)
“Zara?” Braden took a cautious step toward her, then another. “Where did you go?”
Zara shook her head. “Nowhere worth traveling to again. Let’s get this food outside and get back upstairs. I’m freezing.”
Just as she turned, Braden curled his fingers around her arm. With a glance from his hand to his eyes, Zara thought she saw a flash of something other than the desire she’d seen previously. Those piercing eyes were now filled with concern, and Zara didn’t want him to be concerned for her. Having compassion was just another level of intimacy she couldn’t afford to slide into with this man. It would be all too easy to lean on someone, and she’d not been raised to be dependent on others.
Zara didn’t want to identify the feelings coursing through her, not when her emotions were already on edge and her body hummed even louder each time he neared, let alone touched her.
“Come on, Braden.” She forced a wide smile and nodded toward the kitchen. “Let’s get this done.”
He looked as if he wanted to say more, but finally he nodded and released her. Maybe if they could focus on food, not freezing to death and no conversations involving personal issues, they’d get through this blizzard without any more sensual encounters or touching.
As she plucked her coat from the peg by the back door, Zara nearly laughed at her delusional thought. No way could she pretend Braden being here was just like having a friend over. Where he’d gripped her arm seconds ago was still tingling, and in a very short time, she’d find herself back upstairs, closed off in her bedroom with a man who made her ache for things she had no business wanting.
* * *
“That’s all of it.” Milk, eggs, cheese, frozen pizzas, meat and other groceries were tucked down into the snow to keep them from going bad. “Let’s get back inside before my toes fall off.”
Even though she had her fuzzy socks on under her rubber boots, her toes were going numb.
Braden held up a hand. “Wait,” he whispered. “Did you hear that?”
Zara stilled. All she heard was silence because no cars were out. It was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist, leaving only her and the boss she’d dreamed of last night.
“I don’t hear anything,” she told him, shoving that fantasy aside. “You have to be freezing. Come on.”
He still wore his suit and the dress coat from the party. At least she could bulk up in warm layers. No way was he not freezing out here.
“Wait a second.” His eyes searched the ground near her house. Slowly, he took a step, then another. “Go on inside if you don’t want to wait, but I heard a cat.”
A cat? She didn’t own a cat. Compassion was not in her genetic makeup, so she’d spared all animals and sworn to never own one. She wouldn’t have the first clue what to do if left in charge of a living, breathing thing.
Just as she reached for the door handle, Braden crouched down. Zara gasped when he pulled a snow-covered kitten up in his gloved hands. Instantly he cradled the animal to his chest and swiped the snow off its back.
Braden took cautious steps toward the back door, keeping the kitten tucked firmly just inside his coat. Zara realized his intentions immediately.
“You’re bringing that inside?”
His eyes went from the gray bundle to her. “Yes. He’ll freeze to death out here. He’s wet and shivering.”
Zara glanced around. “Where’s the mom? Aren’t animals made to live outside? They have fur on.”
His brows shot up. “You have a coat on, too. Do you want to stay out here and see if you survive?”
Swallowing, she shook her head. “Um...so what do we do once it’s inside?”
Braden tipped his head to the side. “You’ve never had a pet, have you?”
“Never.”
Braden’s sharp gaze softened. “Let’s talk inside. This little guy needs warmth, and so do we.”
Zara opened the back door and ushered Braden in ahead of her. Once they had their coats and boots off, Braden started searching her cabinets. He seemed to be satisfied with the box of crackers he’d found.
“Grab a bowl of water and let’s get back upstairs where it’s warm.”
Without waiting on her, he took the box and the kitten and disappeared. Okay, so he’d basically ordered her around in her own home and that was after bringing in a stray animal.
Was badass Braden O’Shea brought to his knees over a little bundle of fur? Zara nearly laughed as she pulled out a shallow bowl and filled it with water. By the time she got upstairs, Braden was sitting on the edge of the bed, the kitten at his side, as he peeled off his socks. His feet were red and had to be absolutely freezing.
“These got soaked,” he told her. “The snow went right into my boots.”
“Let me have those.” Placing the water on the floor at the foot of the bed, Zara reached out and took the soaked, icy socks.
“My pants are wet, too.”
Her eyes darted up to his. That smirk on his face had her shaking her head. “Oh, no. Don’t even think of stripping. You can roll the pant legs up and come sit by the fire.”
His big hand stroked over the cat as the damp animal snuggled deeper into her cream duvet. “You’re no fun at all.”
“Oh, I’m loads of fun. I’m an events coordinator. I get paid to be fun.”
After she laid his socks by the gas logs, which she cranked up because she was still shivering, she turned back to see Braden feeding the kitten small bites of a cracker. For a second she just stood there and stared. She’d not met many men like Braden, hard and powerful on one hand, soft and compassionate on the other.
“You’re staring,” he stated without looking up.
She remained where she was because the sight of him on her bed being so...adorable was not something she’d planned on. She’d had a hard enough time resisting him when he’d been flat-out sexy. Now that an adorable factor had slipped right in, she was losing what little control she had left.
How would she handle another night with this man?
Six
So now Zara was not only nervous around him, she was nervous over a cat. This woman had so many complex layers, and damn if he didn’t want to peel back each one.
“I’m going to take my pants off if you keep looking at me like that,” he threatened. He didn’t know what was going through her mind, but he couldn’t handle her looking at him as if he was some savior or something.
“I’m just trying to figure you out.”
His hand stilled on the kitten’s boney back. “Don’t,” he told her, meeting her gaze across the room. “That’s not an area you want to go to.”
Zara crossed to the chaise and shoved her blanket aside before taking a seat and curling her feet beneath her. “Oh, I think maybe I do want to go there. What makes a rumored bad boy go all soft with a kitten?”
“I wouldn’t have left any animal out in this. Would you?”
He needed to turn the topic of conversation back to her. Nothing good would come from her digging into his private life, but he wanted to know more and more about hers. Suddenly, finding out more intimate details had less to do with the scrolls...not that finding those weren’t still his top priority.
“Honestly, if I’d been alone, I wouldn’t have known what to do. I guess maybe I would’ve brought it in, but I seriously thought animals were made to be outside.”
Braden reached into the sleeve of crackers for another and broke off a piece for the kitten. “Why no pets growing up?”
He watched from the corner of his eye as she toyed with the edge of her sweatshirt a moment before speaking. She was either nervous or contemplating how much to tell—most likely a little of both. Fine by him. He would wait.
“My parents weren’t the most affectionate,” she started slowly, as if finding the right way to describe her mom and dad was difficult. “To be honest, I never asked for a pet. I figured they’d say no, so I didn’t bother.”
When the kitten turned away and stretched before nestling deeper into the covers, Braden set the crackers on the nightstand before shifting on the bed to face her.
“Were they affectionate to you?” he asked, wondering why he was allowing himself this line of questioning. Seduction was one thing, but finding out about her childhood was a whole other level he didn’t need to get into in order to do the job he came to do.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Suddenly it did. Braden came to his feet and padded over to join her on the narrow chaise. Easing a knee up on to the cushion, he turned sideways.
“Were you abused?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer. “Is that why you had such a strong connection with your grandmother?”
“Oh, no.” Zara shook her head. “I wasn’t abused. There were and are kids who have worse lives. I guess I’ve just always felt sorry for myself because of all the things I think I missed out on. But, they gave me a nice house, toys, camps in the summer.”
“Family vacations?” he asked.
“Um...no. They went on trips and cruises while I was away at camp. When they traveled during the school year, I would stay with my grandmother.” A sad smile spread across her face. “To be honest, those were the best times of my childhood. I loved spending time here. Gram would make up a scavenger hunt, and I’d spend hours exploring all these old rooms and hideout areas.”