Trapped with the Tycoon

by Jules Bennett

  And when the hell had he officially added her to his list of must-haves?

  Somewhere between dancing with her and settling in for their sleepover.

  As she started back to the chaise, she gestured toward him. “If you’re hot, you can, um...you can take your pants off. I won’t look. I mean, I don’t want this to be uncomfortable for either of us, but I want you to be... Sorry, I’m rambling. Go ahead, take your pants off. I’ll turn around.”

  She was killing him. Slowly, surely, killing him.

  But the lady said he could remove his pants. So remove them he would.

  Four

  Just as Braden unzipped and started to lower his pants, Zara cried out in pain, followed quickly by words that would’ve made his mama blush.

  With pants hanging open, Braden carefully crossed the space. “What is it?”

  “Banged the side of my ankle on this damn chaise,” she said through gritted teeth. “Stupid scrolled legs on this thing.”

  Without thinking, Braden dropped to his knees before her. His hands ran down the leg closest to the chaise, gently roaming over her tight, knit pants.

  When she hissed, he pulled back and glanced up. The light was even dimmer now that she’d turned the logs down, but the miniscule candle flickered just enough of a glow for him to make out those heavy lids and the desire that stared back at him.

  Keeping his eyes locked on to hers, Braden slid his fingers around her slender ankle once again. “Does this hurt?”

  “Just tender.”

  Trailing his fingertips to another spot, he asked, “How about here?”

  “No.”

  Weighing his next movement, Braden moved his hand on up to her calf. Zara sucked in a breath, and he knew it was for a whole other reason. Gliding over the back of her knee, he curled his hands around her thigh as he shifted closer to her. With his other hand, he slid beneath the hem of her sweatshirt to grip her waist. Satiny skin met his palm, and he’d swear she trembled and broke out in goose bumps right that second.

  “Braden,” she murmured.

  “Relax.”

  Ironic he was telling her to relax when his own body was strung tighter than a coil ready to spring into action.

  “This isn’t appropriate,” she whispered. If her tone had held any conviction whatsoever, he would’ve stopped, but with the way she’d panted his name, with the way her hips slightly tilted toward him, he wasn’t about to ignore what her body was so obviously telling him.

  He continued to allow his hands the freedom to roam as he came to his feet, pulling her with him. With one hand settled on her hip and one just beneath her shirt, he watched as Zara stared up at him, her eyes locked on to his. He refused to break the connection, didn’t want to sever the intensity of this moment.

  That warm skin begged for his touch, and it was all Braden could do not to jerk this shirt up and over her head so he could fully appreciate the woman. The seduction of Zara would have to be slow, romantic and all about her. He could handle that order because right now he wanted to feel her, wanted to have her come apart.

  The second he encountered silk over her breast, he wasted no time in reaching around and unfastening her bra. Now that she was freed of the restraint, he cupped both breasts in his palms and watched with utter satisfaction as her lids drifted closed, as a groan escaped from her lips.

  Why did she have to feel so amazing? Why was he fighting taking what he wanted instead of giving her full pleasure? This had to be about Zara, about seduction.

  Braden slid one hand down to the top of her pants. Zara’s eyes snapped open. She scrambled from beneath his touch. Her eyes darted away as she righted her clothes. Damn it, he’d pushed her too far when he couldn’t control his hormones.

  “This can’t happen,” she stated, her voice shaky. “We— I...”

  “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he told her as she jerked her sweatshirt down as if she was trying to erase what had just occurred. “We’re adults, and dancing around the attraction wasn’t going to last for long. I’ve been wanting to touch you since you walked into my office.”

  Zara’s hands came up to her face. “I can’t believe I did that. I just let you...” She dropped her hands and waved them in the air. “I let you...”

  “Yes?” he asked, trying not to smile as she struggled.

  “Is this how you treat all your new employees?”

  Braden reached for her arms, pulling her flush against his body. “I’ve never in my life slept with an employee.”

  “We haven’t slept together,” she retorted.

  “Yet.”

  Her gasp had him laughing, but he didn’t release her. “You’re so sure of yourself, aren’t you? I’m not easy, Braden. I don’t want you to even think that for a minute. I shouldn’t have let this go so far.”

  “Zara, if I thought you were easy, I wouldn’t waste my time trying. I look for the challenge, the chase, the risk in everything.”

  Now she laughed as she shook her head. Her hands were trapped between their bodies. “You’re already talking about sleeping with me and you’ve not even kissed me. I’d say that’s—”

  His lips slammed on to hers. Hadn’t kissed her? Was she complaining?

  For one troubling moment, Braden worried she’d push him away, but after her hesitancy, she finally opened up and accepted what he was giving.

  Her hands flattened against his chest as he coaxed her mouth open and tipped her head. Kissing Zara was just another total-body experience he hadn’t anticipated. Kisses were either good or bad. With Zara, they were arousing, a stepping-stone for more and a promise of all the passion she kept hidden away.

  If he wasn’t careful, he’d start craving more of her touches, more of her soft moans, because damn it, the woman got into a man’s system and...

  No. Hell, no. She was not getting into his system. Nobody was penetrating that until he was damn good and ready.

  Braden had to force himself to step back, to put some distance between their heated bodies.

  “There. Now you’ve been kissed.” He licked his own lips, needing to taste her again. “If you’re feeling cheated on anything else, I can oblige.”

  Her eyes widened as she trailed her gaze down his bare chest. “N-no. You’ve obliged enough.”

  Braden smiled. “Then we both need to get some sleep.”

  As if he hadn’t just had her body trembling against his seconds ago, he turned and sat back on her bed. Zara hadn’t moved from her spot next to the chaise.

  “Is your ankle okay?”

  “My ankle?” She glanced down. “Oh, yeah. It’s sore, but fine. Um...good night.”

  He watched as she slowly sank down onto her makeshift bed. He could practically hear her thinking and he knew full well she was replaying how far she’d let him go. Hell, he was, too, but he had to push that aside and keep his eye on the main reason he was here and not how close he’d been to getting her to explode in his arms.

  “Don’t overthink this, Zara.” She continued to lie there, looking up at the ceiling. “Get some sleep.”

  Because the sooner she fell asleep, the quicker he could start looking through the house.

  * * *

  How could the man just fall asleep? Seriously? Braden acted as if this was no big deal, as if he’d patted her on the head and sent her off to bed like an obedient lover.

  And the longer she lay here, the more she was wondering how she’d lost control of that situation so fast. Oh, yeah. He’d touched her. That was it. The man touched her, looked at her with those piercing eyes, and she’d been helpless. For the briefest of moments she’d forgotten all about her job, the fact her boss had his hands beneath her shirt and was working his way into her pants. Thankfully, she’d come to her senses before they’d crossed a point of no ret
urn. She needed this job, even more than she needed a one-night stand.

  Braden O’Shea was a powerful man, and she was not immune to his allure. Yet she’d told herself over and over this evening how she couldn’t get intimate with him, no matter how much she wanted to. She couldn’t risk losing this job because she was a sad cliché and slept with her boss. How tacky was that? She prided herself on being a professional, yet the man who’d written her a colossal check was snoozing in her bed.

  Whatever his secret for flipping the horny switch, she’d like to know because she was still just as turned on as before she’d put the brakes on.

  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.