Trapped with the Tycoon(28)

Laughing, Braden smacked another cold kiss on her lips. Together they worked rolling one giant ball. Zara had no idea building a snowman was so much work. Despite the twenty degree temps, she was actually starting to work up a sweat. By the time they got the third ball rolled and on top of the middle one, Zara was nearly winded. Her muscles were hurting, and for mercy’s sake she was clearly out of shape. Apparently eating junk and planning parties didn’t help build up the endurance.

And here she thought her running regimen kept her endurance up. Apparently, she needed to change her workouts to walking in deep snow and using her core to keep her balanced.

“I’m going to need to soak in that tub again,” she told him as they stood back to admire their work. “My muscles are crying.”

The wicked grin he shot her sent shivers of arousal coursing through her. “I could be persuaded to give you a massage.”

“During the bath?”

“I’d say we both deserve to soak our tired muscles.”

Zara glanced back to the snowman. “This thing doesn’t look finished. Should we have a carrot or something?”

Braden laughed. “I brought out a bag of various things. It’s on the porch.”

As he maneuvered through the snow to the porch, Zara got the most wonderful idea. Before he could turn back to see her, she quickly made two snowballs. Compact in each of her palms, she held them until just the right time.

The moment he turned around with the bag in his hand and stepped off the porch, Zara pelted him right in the face. She couldn’t even fully enjoy his look of shock because she was doubled over with laughter and trying to gather more ammunition.

Before she could straighten, a wet, cold blob smacked her on the side of her head, barely missing her exposed cheek.

Zara tried to get to the snowman to use as a shield, but she ended up slipping in the snow and falling headfirst into the snowman, sending it toppling.

“No,” she screamed as her body landed on the head.

Braden tackled her from behind. “That’s what you get for fighting dirty.”

He rolled her in the snow and pinned her down. She couldn’t catch her breath for laughing. Braden straddled her as he trapped her hands beside her head.

“Still laughing?” he asked. “You may have got the jump on me, but who’s in charge now?”

“It was worth it.” Zara attempted to control herself, but his face was wet from the snowballs that had assaulted him. “I’m sorry I killed our snowman, though.”

“You don’t look sorry. You look smug.”

“And you look cold,” she countered. “I guess I kicked your butt at the snowball fight since you only got my hat.”

Braden leaned down, his lips hovering just over hers. “You know what they say about paybacks,” he muttered before he kissed her thoroughly, passionately...promisingly.

She hadn’t even noticed he released her hands until icy cold snow was shoved into the top of her coat.

“Braden,” she yelled as he jumped off her. “You put snow down my top.”

She hopped up, dancing around, trying to get the blistering snow off her bare skin. “That’s not playing fair.”

“I gave you a warning about paybacks,” he called as he scooped up another snowball.

Zara ducked as the ball flew over her head. “Oh, buddy. It’s on.”

* * *

Soaking in the garden tub had definitely done wonders for the sore muscles. Not to mention the fact Braden took full advantage of massaging every inch of Zara before he made love to her.

After their epic snowball fight, which they finally declared a tie, they came back in, and thanks to the chef, who was now going to get a raise, Braden and Zara had steaming cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows. Braden hadn’t even had to request the treat.

Now they were spent in every way as they lounged beneath the covers in his massive bed.

“You’re going to make it hard for me to go home,” she muttered, snuggling deeper against his side. “Besides the hot sex, I’ve been undressed so much here, I may never want to wear pants again.”

Braden’s hand slid over her bare backside. He wasn’t ready for her to leave. “Fine by me. Keeping you in my bed won’t be a hardship.”

Zara trailed her fingertips over his taut abdomen. “It’s going to be a bit unprofessional of me to host parties while naked in your bed.”

“You’ll definitely be remembered.”

These past few days had been more than he’d ever thought possible. Zara had embedded herself so deep into his life, he needed to come clean because he wanted to build something stronger, something permanent with her.

Once he explained why he’d needed to get into her house, she’d understand. They’d forged a bond so intimate and so fierce, he knew she would understand. Her grandmother had meant the world to her, so that family loyalty she would be able to relate to. Even though her parents hadn’t been the most stellar of people in her life, Zara would see where he was coming from.

Then they could discuss the future. He just wished like hell his hand hadn’t been forced, because he didn’t want to tell her he’d lied to her. Right now she looked at him as if he were everything she’d been searching for but afraid to hope for. He didn’t want to be the one to disappoint, to crush her and make her untrusting again.

“I need to tell you something.” The words were out before he could fully gear himself up for this talk. “I’m not sure where to start.”

Zara stilled against his side. Damn it, he hadn’t meant to start out like this, instantly putting her on the defensive.

“You’ve asked before where this is going.” Braden shifted to his side so he could face her. Lying in bed wasn’t the ideal place to start this, but she was naked so she wouldn’t run out angry. “I don’t want you just in my bed, Zara. I want more.”

Her eyes widened, either in panic or in shock he wasn’t sure.

Reaching for her hand, he brought it to his chest and held her palm flat over his heart. “I know this has been fast, but the attraction was there the moment you came into my office. Seeing you at the party the other night only intensified things. But spending so much time with you over the past few days, I’ve realized that I care for you more than any woman I’ve had in my life other than my sister and my mother.”

“Braden.” Zara closed her eyes. “I want this, so much. But everything about long-term scares me. I mean, I can’t even unpack all of my clothes at my new house. I want things, I want stability and a foundation. I’ve just never had that in my life, and... I’m scared.”

Her words came out on a whisper, her breath tickling his bare chest, her declaration slicing him in two.

“I know you are, and that’s why I want to be completely honest with you.” Damn it, was that him trembling? “You’re the woman I want in my life because you make me want to be honest, you make me want to be that guy you trust and think is such a good person.”

Zara slid her hand from beneath his and eased back. “What do you mean be honest?”

“There’s so much you need to know, and I have no idea where to start.”

Braden sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. He was either the stupidest man alive or he was brilliant for coming clean like this and risking her trust. Surely once she learned the truth, the truth that came straight from him, she’d understand. Finding out any other way would make him look like a jerk, and understandably she’d be pissed. But by confessing his sins straight to her, Braden was confident she’d forgive him and they could move forward.

Could things be that easy?

Her hand rested on his shoulder blade. “Braden. You’re scaring me.”

Yeah, he was scaring himself, too. But this was worth it; she was worth it.

“My family has had some priceless heirlooms missing for decades.” He opted to start all the way back at the beginning as opposed at the end when he’d started using her. “We had an ancestor who was an Irish monk during the sixteenth century.”

“I have no idea how this affects us,” she stated, coming to sit up beside him.

“Just listen.”

Braden turned, facing her because he’d never backed down from what he wanted, and he was facing Zara head-on because he’d never wanted anything more.

“My ancestor transcribed nine of Shakespeare’s works and they were written on scrolls. They were passed down from generation to generation, but during the Great Depression they were in a house that belonged to my family. They lost everything and were forced out before they could get the scrolls.”

Braden searched her eyes as he grabbed her hand. “Those scrolls were left in the house, and we’ve been searching for them since.”

“I still don’t get any of this,” she told him, shaking her head. “What do these scrolls have to do with us?”

“The house that belonged to my family until the Depression is yours, Zara.”

“What?” she gasped. “Wait a minute, you think I have some documents that supposedly have works by Shakespeare hidden in my home?”

He watched as she processed all the words, then her shock morphed into hurt right before his eyes. Before she even spoke, his heart clenched in pain for her. He never knew he could physically hurt simply because someone he cared for was in pain.