Trapped with the Tycoon(9)

She’d never known a man who was so giving, but then she hadn’t known many men like Braden O’Shea. Something told her he was quite different than any other guy she’d dated.

Zara nearly groaned as she tugged on her blanket and rolled over. Dated? She and Braden were far from dating. He’d given her a few minutes of toe-curling excitement, and that was all. He was stuck in her house thanks to Mother Nature’s fury, and that was the extent of their personal relationship.

From here on out, no more touching, no more kissing. Though she had to admit that kiss had been nearly as potent as the touching.

What would morning bring? The questions whirled around in her head. Would he act as if nothing happened? Would he be able to leave, or would he be stuck here for another night? Zara wished he weren’t her boss, wished this powerful, sexy man were stuck in her house under different circumstances, but the fact was he was helping to pay her bills. And without the prestige of working for him, it would take her a lot longer to get the recognition she needed for her new company.

She wasn’t worried about his questionable reputation. The O’Sheas were legends, and despite the rumors surrounding Braden’s father’s dealings, Zara had only heard praise about Braden. He may be tough when needed, he may even show off his brute force like he had with Shane, but none of that made him a bad guy. And the way her body was still thrumming, Zara felt Braden was indeed a very good guy.

No matter what her common sense was telling her now, Zara couldn’t help but want more. Not being able to touch Braden at all left her feeling somewhat cheated. Those broad shoulders, those lean hips...a man with a body like that surely knew how to use it in the most effective ways.

Gripping her blanket beneath her chin, Zara tried not to think about the man who lay just behind her, in her bed, shirtless. She tried not to think of how he’d looked at her when he’d been kneeling on the floor. She tried to keep her body from tingling even more at the fantasy of how they’d be if she crawled in between those sheets with him.

Her best hope now would be to fall asleep and dream, because having the real thing was simply out of the question.

* * *

Braden padded from the bedroom. It had taken Zara over an hour to fall asleep. She’d tossed and turned, letting out soft little moans every now and then, and there wasn’t a doubt in Braden’s mind she was just as sexually frustrated as he was.

Zara was one of the most passionate women he’d ever met. And when she let her guard down...purely erotic. Knowing she was lying over there restless nearly had him forgetting the plan to search the house tonight and instead dragging her back up to her own bed and finishing what they both wanted.

But she’d finally dozed off, if the subtle snoring was any indication. Braden threw one more look her way as he gently closed the door behind him. The logs were keeping the room plenty warm, because this hallway was flat-out chilly. The temperature must have really dropped outside for the inside to get so cold, so fast. At least he’d put his shirt and socks back on, so that was a minor help.

With his phone in his pocket, Braden flicked on the small flashlight that had been on Zara’s bedside table. He swung it back and forth down the hallway, finally deciding to venture into the rooms toward the end where he’d never been before.

He’d seen the layout of the home several times. The floor plan was ingrained into his mind, the blueprints locked away in his home office, but seeing the rooms firsthand was entirely different. He knew there was a third floor, but right now he was going to focus on the bedrooms that sat empty. Every inch of this home could be a hiding spot, and Braden had to start somewhere. Sticking close to Zara was the smartest move right now.

There was something eerie about an old house that was pitch-black with the sounds of whirling winds and creaking. But fear never entered Braden’s mind. Nothing scared him, except the prospect of not finding these scrolls. His father had wanted them back in the family’s possession, but once Patrick had passed away six months ago, Braden knew this endeavor now fell to him. That, and strategically severing the ties to an underbelly of the city he wanted nothing to do with.

Nearly a decade ago, his father had supposedly ordered a prominent businessman to be taken out, along with the man’s assistant. That dangerous rumor kept filtering around, but if Braden could pull this family around, point them in the right direction, perhaps such whispered speculations would be put to rest.

Everything would take time. This was a business Braden learned to be patient in. Effective, forceful and controlling, but patient.

He’d never ordered any killings, prayed to God he never had to. Transitioning was difficult, but Braden had to. He had to secure a future for the family he eventually wanted, but at the same time fulfill his father’s dying wishes.

As he entered the last bedroom, he stood in the doorway and moved his light around, familiarizing himself with the furniture layout. More built-in bookcases. Nice charm to add to each room, but a pain in the ass for someone on a scavenger hunt.

Ryker had mentioned searching the obvious places, but Braden was here now and wanted to see everything for himself firsthand.

Braden slid the flashlight beneath his arm so he could use both hands to shift books and knickknacks around on the shelves. So far no hidden door, no secret hole hidden behind a panel. Nothing. But he wasn’t discouraged. Getting into this house was one of the biggest hurdles, and here he was. Now he just needed to be patient, because the scrolls were here. They had to be.

The irony that his family unofficially dealt in retrieving stolen relics and heirlooms, and they couldn’t even get back their own possessions, was not lost on him. Granted, they technically stole back the items, but those words would never come out of his mouth, and Ryker was the guy who did all the dirty work. So in a sense, Braden never saw how the items were taken back. So long as it was done correctly and satisfied clients all over the globe, the details didn’t matter. The auction house gave them the front they needed to play modern-day Robin Hood, but the rumors around the family gave them that edge that helped them with their tough, hard-ass image.

Generations of corruption would be hard to move past, but Braden was determined. The art dealings would continue, and there was no harm in taking back what was rightfully due to those who had lost heirlooms, as long as it didn’t require any violence. But any more than lying and stealing had to cease...sooner rather than later.

Ryker wasn’t too keen on Braden’s new, somewhat lily-white direction, but Braden wasn’t asking for permission. He was in charge now, and Ryker would have to understand that any sort of bloodshed was a thing of the past.

Which reminded him, he needed to check in with their right-hand man who was currently in London looking for a rare piece of art that needed to be returned to a client in Paris during the next auction.

By the time he’d finished the two large bedrooms at the end of the hall, Braden was no closer than when he’d started. Sleep was going to have to happen because his eyes were burning, and most likely it was nearly morning at this point. He couldn’t help but wonder what all the unpacked boxes were, though. He’d seen a few in her kitchen, several in the living room, and with her closet door open, he’d spotted a good amount stacked in there. Hadn’t she said she’d lived here for a few months?

Those unpacked boxes held so much potential, but how many were hers and how many were already here for years?

Using his flashlight to head back to the bedroom, Braden flicked it off as soon as he reached the doorway. The second he stepped inside, warmth surrounded him. Zara lay on her side, her hand tucked beneath her cheek, her ponytail now in disarray as hair draped over her forehead and down the side of her face.

Slipping back out of his shirt, he sat on the edge of the bed, unable to take his eyes off the sleeping beauty. He had tried to keep his hands off her. Okay, he could’ve tried harder, but damn it, something about her made him want to get closer to her in the most primal way possible.

He knew she was a sexy, take-charge woman. The fact she was a businesswoman, career-driven and independent, was a definite turn-on. But after dancing with her and seeing that flash of vulnerability in her eyes when Shane had entered the picture, Braden felt even more territorial...and not in the typical employee/employer way. There was no way he could not step into her life.

Braden slid between the sheets and refused to acknowledge the arousal threatening to keep him awake. He needed sleep because when morning came, he fully intended to continue his quest for the scrolls, and he sure as hell planned on more seducing. Multitasking had never been this sweet.





Five

Zara stared at her cabinets and sighed. Was it appropriate to offer your millionaire boss a s’mores Pop-Tart or a cherry one for breakfast? Because that was the extent of her options. Well, she had other flavors because she was a junk-food junkie, and Pop-Tarts were her drug of choice.

He’d still been asleep when she’d slipped from the warm room. Now she stood shivering in her kitchen and wondering when the electricity would be restored. The snow was still coming down in big, fat flakes, and there was no sign of any cars in sight.

Grabbing three different varieties of breakfast pastries, Zara spun on her fuzzy socks and raced back up the steps. Mercy, it had gotten cold in here. When she eased open the door, Braden was shifting around on her bed, sheets slipping down a bit. His glorious chest looked even better with daylight streaking through the window. Granted, it had also looked spectacular on display with the fire flickering last night.