His family prided themselves on their business, yet they hadn’t been able to relocate their own inheritance after decades of trying. All the frustration and anger and stomps on their pride may finally be coming to an end.
They’d hunted down so many false leads over the years, but now Braden wanted to focus on the last point of origin. This house held the answers; he just had to know where to look, and he may have struck gold.
Braden held on to the tube and stepped into the cool hallway. Where had she gone? He called her name, waiting to hear her reply. Silence greeted him, but then she appeared at the top of the stairs with the kitten beneath her arm. Even though the little guy nestled against her, Zara still didn’t look comfortable with her new friend.
Maybe Laney shouldn’t get this kitten, after all. Perhaps Zara needed this bonding experience to get her to open up, to not be afraid of any type of a relationship. Animals had that effect on people.
“What were you doing?” he asked.
“You left the door open, and he darted out.” She stopped before him and held the cat out to his chest. “You were too preoccupied with whatever is in that cylinder and didn’t see him run out the door.”
Braden winced at the harshness of her tone and knew he needed to come up with a quick cover so she didn’t get too suspicious. He’d never expected her to be around when he found something of interest, so holding back his emotions hadn’t crossed his mind.
“Sorry. Occupational hazard. Old treasures get the best of me.”
She quirked a brow as if she wanted to argue, but didn’t say a word as she brushed by him and went into the bedroom. Braden followed, closing the door and placing the cat back down on the rug. He immediately went to the paper and packaging beside the box and started swatting and playing.
“Did you get that open?” she asked, pointing to the tube.
“No.” He needed to be careful how he approached this. The last thing he needed was for Zara to distrust him. “I’d like to have Ryker look, if you don’t mind.”
She shifted slightly, and her brows drew in. “Ryker is a friend of yours?”
“He’s more than a friend.” How did he even explain Ryker? Ryker was more of an experience than a person. The man was a force to be reckoned with. He butted heads with Braden more often than not, but the man was loyal to a fault. “If anyone can get into this and not do any damage to the container, it would be him.”
Zara stared at him before her eyes darted to the tube in his hand. “What do you think is in there that’s so important? It felt empty to me.”
A paper wouldn’t weigh much, and if this was indeed one of his family’s scrolls, Braden wanted it to be opened without Zara present. Waiting to get this to Ryker would be a true test of self-control, but Braden had come this far; he wasn’t about to destroy the tube by breaking it to get in.
“Old documents could be hidden,” he told her. “You never know what you can find stored away. We’ve uncovered some pretty important things from all over the world when people thought containers were empty.”
“I don’t care if you take it to look in, but you’ll let me know what’s inside, right?”
“Of course.” He refused to feel guilty about lying to her face. If the scroll was indeed inside, it would be of no use to her.
Well, she could sell it for a ridiculous amount of money, but the worth to the O’Sheas was invaluable. Braden was so hyped up on adrenaline with the possibilities, he could hardly stand still. He needed to contact Mac.
Braden set the tube on the side table by the door and pulled his cell from his pocket. He quickly shot Mac a text that he’d found an old tube, but couldn’t confirm the contents.
“I’m going to head back downstairs.” Braden glanced around the room, searching for the flashlight. “I’ll get those other boxes.”
“I’d like to talk to you about selling some pieces.” Zara had taken a seat back on the floor and was wrapping items back up and placing them in the box. “I’m not sure how that works or even if you’d be interested for the auction house, but...”
She was back to being nervous. And to be honest, he was a bit nervous, too, because he had no clue how to proceed from here. He’d never been in this position before. Sex with women was something he’d always enjoyed, yet he’d never gotten emotionally attached. Casual relationships worked fine, but in his line of work, getting too close to someone was difficult. One day he wanted a family, but he truly had to find the right woman who would fit into his life...first he had to steer the business into a bit more legit territory.
But he kept feeling this pull toward Zara, a pull he’d not experienced with any other woman.
So why Zara? Why now? Did it all stem from needing to gain trust? He’d never had to rely on someone like this before. He’d never placed himself at the mercy of needing anyone; he purposely didn’t leave himself vulnerable.
“I can look through whatever you want,” he replied. “If we agree on certain items, you have a few options we can go over.”
She nodded, and the tension in her shoulders seemed to lessen as her body relaxed. “Good. I hate getting rid of her things, but at the same time, I can’t keep everything.”
Braden knew that ache, that need to hang on to possessions of lost loved ones. He’d still not gone through his father’s belongings and he wasn’t sure when he’d be ready to face that daunting task. Mac and Laney weren’t ready, either. Thankfully, they were all there for each other because family meant everything to the O’Sheas. They clung to each other in times of trial. Ryker may be a hard-ass, but the man was just as much family as any blood relative, and he’d grieved right along with the rest of them after Patrick’s death.
“Let me get those boxes, and we can spend the day looking through them and deciding where to go from there.” When she smiled up at him, Braden had to ignore that punch of lust to the gut. She was trusting him...and he was betraying her. “Be right back.”
Before he could be swept under by those mesmerizing eyes, he snatched the flashlight off the bed and headed back to the basement. Right now he needed to focus on what they would uncover, on how this could possibly end his family’s hunt for what was rightfully theirs. He couldn’t think how Zara was slowly getting under his skin, how she was softening toward him and opening and driving him out of his ever-loving mind.
Because if he started letting Zara have control over his mind, she’d start silently taking control over other aspects of his life. And he couldn’t afford to be sidetracked right now. Not when he was so close to getting everything he’d ever wanted.
* * *
Zara ran her fingers over the pewter picture frame. “I remember this picture sitting by her bed.”
The black-and-white photo of a young, newly married couple stared back at her. Her grandparents on their wedding day, standing outside the courthouse because they hadn’t wanted to wait for a big ceremony in a church. They’d fallen in love and hadn’t wanted to spend another minute apart.
Tears pricked Zara’s eyes. “Sorry,” she said, smiling as she blinked back the moisture. “I get a little sentimental when it comes to my gram.”
Sitting with his back against the headboard on the bed, Braden stretched his legs out as he stared down at her. Zara sat on the floor, legs crossed, looking through yet another box. Every now and then she’d pass a piece up to him to get his opinion on selling, but now she’d found a box of photos.
Braden extended his hand toward the picture, so Zara passed it over. “My grandfather was the love of her life. She never quite got over his death, even though she lived without him for nearly twenty years.”
Braden studied the picture, then glanced back down to her. “And you still don’t believe in true love?”
Zara rolled her eyes and swiped at the tear that escaped. “I believe my grandparents found it, but m
y parents sure as hell didn’t. They were more concerned with making money and traveling than they were with love or family.”
Propping the photo up on the nightstand, Braden adjusted it so it faced at just the right angle. “Love exists, Zara. If you want it, you just have to wait until it finds you.”
Zara had always been sure that if she ever heard a man mention love, she’d run fast and far because he only wanted something from her.
This wasn’t like any scenario she’d planned in her mind. For one thing, Braden wasn’t professing his love by any means. Second, even if he was, he couldn’t use her for anything. He was an O’Shea. One of the most powerful families in Boston and known around the world. There was nothing he could gain from getting involved with her.
“You’re unlike any man I’ve ever met,” she told him, trying not to think too hard about how amazing he looked taking up so much space in her bed. “I don’t know many men who are so open at discussing love and relationships, let alone a man who claims he’s wanting a wife and marriage.”
“Family is everything to me. I want kids and a wife.” He shrugged as if the explanation were so simple and not to be questioned. “When I find the woman for me, I’ll do anything in my power to keep her safe and to make sure that she knows she’s loved at all times. My woman will never question where I stand.”
The more he spoke, the more stern he became. Zara knew without a doubt that he believed love existed, and she also believed there would be one woman who would come along, capture his attention and live happily ever after because she truly didn’t think Braden failed at anything he set his mind to.
“Well, there is one lucky lady in your future.”
Zara pushed off the floor and scooted the box to the wall. Turning, she scanned the other unopened boxes and finally decided on one that wasn’t marked. Grabbing it, she took a seat at the foot of the bed on the opposite side. She faced Braden and pulled the lid off the box. Breath caught in her throat as she reached in and ran her hand over the silky yarn. Slowly, she pulled the crochet item from the box.
Zara smiled as she laid the bright red throw across her lap. “I remember when she made this,” Zara murmured, running her fingers across the tight weave. “She’d asked me what color she should make, and I told her red. I remember thinking she was such a lively woman, brown or gray wouldn’t do. When she was finished, she held it up and wrapped it around my shoulders. I was sitting on the couch doing homework.”
Zara pulled the piece up to her face and inhaled. That familiar vanilla scent she associated with her grandmother hit her hard. A vice gripped her heart as she willed back the emotions. The bed dipped just slightly before a hand settled on her bent knee.
“It’s hard losing someone you love, someone you’ve depended on.”
His soft words washed over her, offering comfort when she really had no one else. How pathetic had her life become that she slept with her boss and had no close friends to turn to for support? Had she seriously alienated herself because she’d been so engrossed with work?
No, she could admit the truth to herself. Commitment terrified her. Being dependent on someone, knowing they could leave at any moment and take her heart with them had her refusing to allow herself to open up to anyone. She didn’t care if she was lonely. She’d rather be alone than broken.
Dropping her hands back into her lap, Zara lifted her gaze to Braden. He’d been so passionate earlier, so attentive to her needs sexually. But now he looked at her with care and compassion, and she truly had no idea what to think of him or even how to act. He could make her want things...things she’d never wanted before.
“This is all so strange to me,” she admitted. “Before I started working for you, I’d heard rumors of how badass you were. Then I saw it firsthand when you threw Shane out of the party. Then you take in a kitten, snuggle with it, for crying out loud, and you look as if you want to hug me, and not for anything sexually related. I’m not sure which Braden I’ll see from moment to moment.”
His eyes hardened, his jaw clenched, but he didn’t remove his hand. “The badass Braden trumps the nice one. I’m not a nice guy, Zara. I’m selfish, and I take what I want when I want it.”
Shivers raced through her. He’d taken exactly what he’d wanted where she was concerned...not that she was complaining.
Zara covered his hand. “You’re a nice guy when it counts. You’ll never convince me otherwise.”
He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he eased back and slid off the other side of the bed. She watched as he surveyed the boxes littering her bedroom.
“So you only have one more to go through,” he stated as he headed for the largest box he’d brought up from the basement. She knew he was changing the subject, which had been her tactic all along. “It was heavy, so you may want to come over here to look through it, or I can pull out items and bring them to you.”
Zara swung her legs off the bed and headed toward the box. “Let’s see what this one has, and then we can discuss what I’ll be selling.”
Because the tender moment that had just happened couldn’t happen again—clearly it had left them both shaken. She needed to keep her wits about her and remember that she was still his employee, she was still needing this reputable job to keep her business going in the right direction, and she needed to forget how this man made her body tingle in ways she never knew possible...and how he was acting as if he truly cared.
Twelve
They’d had a gourmet dinner of crackers, lunch meat, cheese and some fruit. Zara had grabbed a bottle of wine from the cellar, and now she sat on the chaise, legs stretched before her, her back against the side arm as she twirled the stem of her wineglass.
The poor kitten was going stir-crazy, so Zara had taken him for a walk through the house. Braden was already seeing their bond form, but he wasn’t about to call her on it. She’d realize soon enough.
As the kitten pounced on her shoe, Zara watched him. “Should we give him a name or something?”
“Does this mean you’re keeping him?”
Zara threw Braden a look. “I didn’t say that. I just feel like he should be called something other than Cat.”
Braden laughed. “Admit it, you like him.”
“I’ll call him Jack while he’s here,” she decided.
“Jack?”
Zara nodded. “Jack Frost.”
Braden smiled at the perfect name. “Jack it is.”
Zara didn’t want to make commitments, didn’t want to have to worry about anyone else but herself, and Braden understood her reasons. But at some point she’d have to put herself out there, even if it was with a cat. She was going to be one lonely person if she kept herself so distanced. He wouldn’t know what he’d do without his family.
“So, what’s it like having siblings?” she asked, staring into her glass...her fourth glass if he was counting correctly. “Being an only child sucked sometimes.”
Braden shifted his back against the side of the bed, brought his knee up and reached out to pet Jack as he came over and slid against Zara’s leg. Braden had stopped at three glasses of wine. He was a big guy, so he wasn’t feeling anything, and one of them had to keep their wits about them. Apparently that responsibility fell to him.
“We had our moments,” he admitted. “Laney is the baby, and she gets a bit angry when Mac and I look out for her. She’s determined, stubborn, always putting others first, even at the sacrifice of her own happiness.” He narrowed his gaze, which he knew she could see since they had lit candles and she was only a few feet away, staring right at him. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
Zara took a sip of wine. “I prefer career driven.”
Braden laughed as went on. “Mac and I tend to get along now, but when we were younger we pretty much caused havoc in the house. Mom passed when I was ten, Mac was s
even and Laney was only four. That was about the time Ryker started coming around, too.”
Propping her elbow on the arm of the chaise, Zara rested her head in her hand and settled the base of the wineglass in front of her, still holding on to the rim with those delicate fingers. “You speak of him quite a bit. You all are really close. I can hear the affection in your tone when you talk of your family.”
When she discussed her parents, all that had laced her tone was disdain. The only love he heard from her was when she told stories of her grandmother.
“We’ve always been a close family. My parents were adamant about that. We may fight, yell, even throw a few punches, but when it comes down to it, I know my family always has my back, and they know I always have theirs.”
Zara smiled. “Unconditional love.” She drained the rest of her glass, then sat it on the small accent table on the other side of the arm. “I bet when you all were younger you had snowball fights in weather like this.”
Braden nodded, his hand stilled on the kitten’s back as he replayed one particular day. “My brother, Mac, has a scar running through his brow as a souvenir from one of our snowball fights.”
Zara’s eyes widened. “He got cut from snow?”
“He got cut because our sister threw a snowball that had a rock in it. She’s a lot stronger than she looks, but she had no idea about the rock. Trust me, she felt awful, and Mac played on her guilt for years.”
She made a soft noise of acknowledgment, nearly a tender tone that had him almost hating how he was reliving these memories when she didn’t have too many happy ones. But she wanted to hear them, and he actually enjoyed sharing stories of his family...so long as people didn’t start butting into the family business and asking unnecessary questions.
Trapped with the Tycoon Page 11
