Trapped with the Tycoon

by Jules Bennett

  With boxes of food under one arm, she gently closed the door behind her, but Braden’s eyes instantly popped open and zeroed in on her. Suddenly she was pinned in place. That piercing gaze penetrated her across the room. Such a potent man to be able to hold such power over someone without even saying a word.

  Slowly, he sat up. The sheet fell to his waist, giving up an even more tantalizing view of all that tan skin with dark hair covering his chest. Dark ink curved over one shoulder, and Zara found herself wanting to trace the lines of that tat. With her tongue.

  Down, girl.

  “Breakfast,” she said. “I hope you like Pop-Tarts.”

  His brows drew in. “I can honestly say I’ve never had one.”

  Of course he hadn’t. Not only was he a bajillionaire, he had the body of a sculpted god. Someone who looked like that wouldn’t fill themselves with the finer junkie things in life.

  “Well, you’re in for a treat.” She crossed the room, trying to ignore the fact that she looked like a hot mess after last night. “I’m a connoisseur of all things unhealthy and amazingly tasty.”

  She sat the boxes on the trunk at the end of her bed and opened each one. She tried to focus on anything other than the fact he still hadn’t reached for his shirt. Was he going to spend their entire time half naked? So this is what the saying “both a blessing and a curse” meant.

  “I have s’mores, cherry and chocolate.” She glanced back up as he slid from the bed and came to stand beside her. “Take whatever you want. I have plenty more downstairs.”

  He eyed the boxes as if he truly had no clue what to choose. “I’m a chocolate lover, so the cherry is out. Should I go all in for the s’mores?”

  Zara smiled. “They’re the best, in my opinion.”

  She handed him a foil package and grabbed one for herself before heading over to stand near the logs. She needed to keep a bit of distance, because if the shirtless thing wasn’t enough to make her want a replay of last night, the fact that he had sheet marks—her sheets—on his arm and face and he smelled musky and sexy was more than enough to have her near begging. And Zara wouldn’t beg for any man, especially one who wrote her checks.

  “You can have all you want, though.” She was babbling. Nerves did that to a woman. “I forgot the drinks. I’m sure the fridge kept things cold, but I’ll need to—”

  “Zara. Breathe.” Braden’s hand gripped her shoulder. She hadn’t even heard him come up behind her. “I’m making you nervous again.”

  Swallowing, she turned to face him. Holding his heavy-lidded gaze, Zara tried not to look at the sheet mark on his cheek. A minor imperfection that made this man seem so...normal.

  “I’m not nervous,” she said, defensively. “Why would I be nervous? I mean, just because you... I...last night...and now your shirt is still off, so I’m not sure what to do or how to act. I’ve never had a man here, let alone my boss. So this whole morning-after thing is different, not that we did anything to discuss the typical morning after...”

  Closing her eyes, Zara let out a sigh. She shook her head to clear her thoughts before looking back up to Braden. “I’m rambling. This is just a bit awkward for me, and I didn’t want to make a total fool of myself, but I’m doing just that.”

  Braden took the package from her hands and tore it open. After pulling out a Pop-Tart, he held it up to her.

  “Why don’t you eat?” he suggested. “I’m not worried about what happened last night, but if you want to run through it again, that’s fine with me. Maybe we can discuss how much farther I wanted to go.”

  “No, we shouldn’t.” Zara took the pastry he held up to her. “Maybe we should just check on the road conditions instead of reliving anything.”

  Braden laughed as he tore open his own package. “Whatever you want. I’m at your mercy here.”

  Did every word that came out of his mouth have to drip with sex appeal? Was he trying to torment her further? Because if this was him putting forth no effort to torture her, she’d hate to see when he actually turned on the charm.

  Zara didn’t want to think about staying in this room with him for another day. If she didn’t get out of here, her hormones may explode.

  They ate their gourmet breakfast, and Braden muttered something about them being amazing before he went and grabbed a different flavor. Traditional chocolate this time. While he had round two, Zara went to dig out her old boots. She was going to have to get the frozen food outside and put it into the snow to stay cold. There was no other way, not if she wanted to salvage her groceries.

  After she shoved her fuzzy-socked feet into her boots, Zara headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  Braden swallowed his last bite and crumbled his foil in his hand. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to run downstairs and get the food from the freezer and fridge and set it out in the snow. It will stay cold there. I don’t know what else to do with it.”

  Crossing to the bed, Braden reached for his shirt and shrugged into it. “I’ll help.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ve got it.”

  Ignoring her, he buttoned each button with quick, precise movements. “What else do I have to do?”

  Keep that potent, sexually charged body away from hers? Stay in the warm room while she went outside and cooled off?

  Zara knew she wasn’t going to win this argument, so she turned and headed from the room. Braden closed the bedroom door behind them. The cooler air in the hallway slid right through Zara, helping her to focus on something other than the man who pretended like make out sessions were passed out each night before bedtime like a hug good-night.

  Should her body still be humming, given they hadn’t even gotten to the good part? Seriously?

  As soon as she went into the kitchen, she turned to Braden, only he wasn’t there. Zara backtracked a couple steps to find him in the living room staring at the built-in bookcases.

  “This house has a lot of the same old-Boston charm mine does,” he told her without turning around. “The trim on the top of these cabinets, the detailed edging. It’s all so rare to find in homes these days. I appreciate when properties have been taken care of.”

  “I imagine you see quite a variety of homes with various decor in your line of work.”

  Throwing her a glance over his shoulder, he nodded. “I’ve seen million-dollar homes that were polished to perfection, every single thing in them brand-new. But it’s the old houses that really pull me in. Mac is more the guy who wants all things shiny and new.”

  Zara crossed her arms to ward off the chill. The only vibe she’d gotten of the younger O’Shea brother was that he was a player. And with his looks and charm, she could totally see women batting their lashes and dropping their panties.

  Braden ran a fingertip over a small glass church her grandmother had loved. “He’s working on the opening of our Miami location. That fast-paced lifestyle and the warmer climate are also more his speed.”

  “You guys are quite opposite, then.”

  “Except when it comes to business,” Braden amended as he moved to another shelf and carefully adjusted a pewter picture frame holding a picture of Zara as a child. “We see eye to eye on all things regarding the auction house.”

  “I’ve always hated that picture,” Zara stated with a laugh. “My grandmother took that on my first trip to the beach. I was eleven and had just entered that awkward stage girls go through.”

  Turning to face her, Braden crossed his arms and offered a slight grin. “Whatever phase you went through, you’ve more than made up for it.”

  Zara shivered at his smooth words. Apparently this smooth talker liked a woman with curves.

  “You didn’t go to a beach until you were eleven?” he asked, moving right on.

  Oh, no. She didn’t want to get into her childhoo
d. Granted, the first decade of her life wasn’t terrible, but there certainly were no family vacations, no fun beach pictures or pictures of any kind, really. Her parents had been rich, beyond rich, but they couldn’t buy affection. They’d tried. Zara had more toys, more nannies than any one child needed or deserved.

  When her parents had died, Zara had been numb. She hadn’t even known how to feel, how to react. How did a child respond to losing the two people who were supposed to love her more than anything, yet had never said the words aloud? They’d shown her in ways, material ways, but that was the only way they knew how to express themselves.

  That money she’d always thought her parents possessed was suddenly gone. Her parents’ overspending had finally caught up with them, and Zara was paying the price. Apparently her parents owed everybody and their brother thousands, if not hundreds of thousands. Zara’s grandmother had maneuvered funds, had borrowed against this house and had paid off every last debt her parents had left. Now the money was gone after all the debts were paid.

  Just another reason Zara was determined to succeed in her business. She wanted to make her grandmother proud, even if she wasn’t here to physically see Zara’s triumph. She didn’t want to have to sell this house that had been in her family since the Depression. Her grandmother had loved this place, and Zara wanted that last piece of family to hold on to.

  “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.�
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  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.