Trapped with the Tycoon(22)

Zara lifted her arms, her hands resting on either side of her face. The innocent move, or maybe not-so-innocent, arched her back and pressed her breasts up.

“I couldn’t join you, Braden. I don’t have a good track record with men, not that I’m looking for one right now, and I couldn’t risk my job no matter how much I wanted you. Besides, I would’ve died had you rejected me.”

That right there was the crux of her issue. Rejection. She’d been rejected by so many people. Well, maybe not so many in quantity, but definitely all of the important people, save for her grandmother. She feared rejection, and here he was using her. Taking advantage of a vulnerable woman was a straight ticket to hell.

“I wouldn’t have rejected you,” he murmured. “I was battling myself back at my party because I just wanted to drag you into a room, a closet, anywhere that we could be alone, and I could show you how much I wanted you.”

He trailed his fingertips over her heated skin, earning him a swift intake of breath as her eyes drifted closed. “That wouldn’t have looked very good for my reputation,” she muttered. “I’m a professional and I can’t afford for people to think I slept with you to get the job.”

“Nobody will think that,” he assured her. He’d make damn sure she had more jobs lined up than she could handle. He’d make sure she could choose the ones she wanted and didn’t have to worry about taking them all.

“Keep touching me, Braden.” Her voice, a throaty whisper, washed over him. “Your touch feels so good.”

She was killing him. Those soft moans, her body all laid out on display. He’d told her he wasn’t a nice guy and he was primed and ready to snap and take what she was blatantly offering. But he wouldn’t want anyone else treating Zara disrespectfully. She deserved better than a man who couldn’t control his hormones and took advantage of the fact she loved wine and couldn’t hold it like the rest of his Irish family.

“Zara.” He stilled his hand to get her attention, to let her know he couldn’t take her to bed. But her soft snore greeted him. Braden sat back on his heels, kept his hand on her stomach and simply stared.

When was the last time she’d fully let go and relaxed? Did she trust anyone in her life on a personal level, or were all of her acquaintances the closest things she had to family and friends? Dating men who were users, jerks and not looking for commitment was a surefire way to keep yourself closed off from the world. Zara was excelling at being a loner. The irony wasn’t lost on him that she planned parties and lavish bashes for people to mingle, socialize and enjoy the company of others, yet she refused to put herself in a position to enjoy anyone.

From the investigating he’d done before hiring her officially, he’d learned she’d had a small apartment in Boston, mostly kept to herself and rarely dated. She threw herself into her work, and it showed, but wasn’t there more to life?

Braden snorted. Yeah, there was, and he was going to find it as soon as his family business was a bit more secure in a new territory.

As he watched her sleep, something shifted inside him. He didn’t want that damn shift. He didn’t want to care so much about Zara, about her loveless childhood and how it molded her into the fierce woman she was today.

All Braden wanted to do was wake her up, take her to bed and make love to her all night. Then he wanted to get home tomorrow and show Mac that tube so they could figure out how the hell to proceed from here.

Yet none of that was going to happen, so here he sat staring at the most complex, beautiful woman he’d ever known. Parts of her reminded Braden of his sister. He hadn’t been feeding Zara a line of bull earlier when he’d said that, either. But Laney had something Zara didn’t, and that was the strength and backing of a family.

It bothered him more than it should that Zara had nobody. He’d been fully aware of her living situation and family life before he’d hired her. He’d made a point to know exactly who Zara Perkins was so he could come at her the right way, the way that would ensure she trust him, work for him and allow him access into her home.

Granted, he hadn’t planned on a snowstorm, but he wasn’t looking a gift horse, or Mother Nature, in the mouth.

Braden sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He should rest, he should get back up and start searching. But he didn’t want to do any of that. Not when Zara’s body felt so warm beneath his palm, not when she was sleeping so peacefully and beautifully.

For once, he wasn’t thinking work or how to get those coveted scrolls. No, for once Braden O’Shea was soaking in all of the goodness from another, hoping it would somehow rub off on him and make him not so much of a bastard. Because if Zara ever found out what he’d done, she’d hate him forever.

And that chilling thought scared the hell out of him.





Thirteen

Zara rolled over onto her side, coming to rest against a warm leg just as her arm crossed over a taut chest. She stilled, blinking into the darkness. No candles were burning, but the soft glow from the logs helped her get her bearings. She wasn’t on the chaise where she’d been drinking her wine.

Wine. Zara froze. She’d gotten pretty chatty if she recalled correctly, but thankfully she was still dressed. So nothing had happened between Braden and her, but she was lying in bed beside him. Had he put her here?

Zara slowly started easing back to her side instead of crawling all over her temporary roommate.

“And here I thought you wanted to touch me.”

Braden’s thick tone filled the room.

“I didn’t mean to... I had no idea we were...that you were...”

Lightning fast, Braden grabbed her arm and held her still. “Don’t move. I put you here because I want you here.”

Zara had to admit being in her own bed with her feather-down duvet was like heaven. Okay, fine, she loved being next to this man, knowing that he carried her and put her in bed, then climbed in beside her. What woman wouldn’t get all giddy over that fact?

“Did I ask you to have sex with me again?” Mercy, the fact she had to even ask that question was even more embarrassing than the actual question.

“You implied you were willing.”

Pathetic, party of one?

“Which just proves my theory that you’re a nice guy.”

In an instant, Braden had her on her back, her hands above her head, the entire length of his body on hers. “Do you feel light-headed at all? Headache? Dizziness?”

Breathless from their current state, Zara shook her head. “Why?”

“Because I’m about to strip you and take you up on that offer now. I want you to be fully aware of what I’m doing to you.”

His lips captured hers before she could even comprehend what he was saying, but words were moot at this point. The fierce kiss, the tilt of his hips against hers and the way he gripped her wrists above her head were all very telling signs as to what he wanted. Added to that, her body had lit up from within, and she wanted everything he was willing to give her. She wasn’t denying herself, not now, not with Braden.

He was right. She dated jerks. She did so to keep a distance and not form any relationship. So why shouldn’t she sleep with a man who was considerate, obviously wanted her and wasn’t asking for any type of commitment?

Oh, right. He was her boss. Well, at the moment, her boss was removing her pants and panties right along with them. Even as Zara’s mind told her to put a stop to this, her body shifted so he could continue ridding her of the unwanted clothes.

She kicked the pants off her ankles and groaned when Braden placed open-mouth kisses on her stomach. She threaded her hands through his hair. She’d already slept with him once; stopping now wouldn’t change what had already happened. And Braden’s promise of stripping her down was already proving to be amazing because he currently had his teeth on the hem of her shirt, sliding it up her torso.

When the material bunched at her breasts, she tried to pull her hands free to help.

“I’ve got this,” he whispered. “Your only job is to relax and let me work.”

Who was she to argue? He was her boss, after all.

He eased back enough to jerk the shirt over her head and toss it to the floor.

“If that cat pees on my—”

Braden’s tongue trailed down her throat and into the valley of her breasts, cutting off any thought she’d had. Zara’s back arched—she couldn’t move much with his weight on her, but she wiggled beneath him enough to let him know he was absolutely driving her mad with this slow pace he’d set.

“Braden,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Anything.”

He cupped one breast, stroking her skin with his thumb, his other hand trailing down her side and settling on her hip. His mouth, his hands—he seemed to be touching her all over at once. Zara’s legs shifted anxiously, waiting for his next move. How could he be so thorough when she just wanted him to touch her where she ached the most?

Finally he slid his fingertips over her thighs, inching higher. Zara tilted her hips, near ready to beg him for more when he finally covered her with his hand. She eased her legs wider, giving him the access he needed.

While his fingers stroked her, he moved his other hand to lace their fingers together over her chest. His lips slid over her abdomen, and Zara thought she was going to shoot up off this bed if he didn’t finish her soon.