Trapped with the Tycoon

by Jules Bennett

“Say it.” Braden went back to gripping her waist, holding her still so he could gain back control. “Say you’re mine, Zara.”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Only yours.”

  When his hand dipped in the water and touched her intimately, she shattered all around him. Braden would never tire of seeing her come undone, of knowing he caused her pleasure. This was his, she was his. No other man would experience Zara so long as Braden was around, because he wasn’t kidding and he hadn’t been swept into the heat of the moment when he’d demanded she say she belonged to him.

  Just as her trembling stopped, Braden squeezed her waist and let himself go. Zara leaned down, whispering something into his ear. He didn’t grasp what she was saying; it didn’t matter. This woman in his arms was all he needed for tonight, for tomorrow.

  And now Braden was starting to wonder if she was the woman he needed forever. If she was, how the hell would he ever be able to build on anything when their initial meeting was all based on a lie? On him using her?

  As Zara lay spent against him, Braden knew one thing for certain. He either needed to let her go once he searched her home, or he needed to come clean with how they’d met in the first place.

  Either way was a risk. Would she understand? Would she see that he’d had no choice in the matter, but once he’d gotten to know her all bets were off?

  She had to understand, because Braden refused to lose her. Having her walk away wasn’t an option.

  * * *

  Someone smacked her bare backside.

  Zara jumped, twisting in the silky sheets and thick duvet. Sweeping the hair out of her eyes, she glared up to see Braden staring down at her, a wicked grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

  But he was holding a cup of coffee. “That better be for me,” she grumbled, reaching for the mug. Jack clawed at the side of the bed until Braden lifted him up.

  “Of course. I also managed breakfast.”

  He reached to the nightstand and presented her with a plate. Zara eyed it before pulling the napkin from the top. A laugh escaped her.

  “I know full well you do not stock s’mores Pop-Tarts in your house, considering you hadn’t had them before I introduced you to them.” She plucked one off the plate as she took a sip of the steaming hot coffee, black, just the way she liked it. “So how did you manage this?”

  He cocked his head and raised his brows as if her question was absurd. Of course he had someone go out in this ridiculous weather just to get her a box of Pop-Tarts. The idea warmed her more than it should. It was a box of processed junk that cost a couple bucks, but he’d done so out of...what? Love? No, he didn’t love her, but he obviously cared for her.

  “Hurry up and eat,” he told her. “I have another surprise for you.”

  With the Pop-Tart between her teeth, she narrowed her eyes and bit off a hunk. Jack stretched out on Braden’s pillow next to Zara. “What?”

  He stepped back from the bed, and she took in the sight of him wearing—a ski suit?

  “I hope you brought warm clothes. If not, I’ll find something for you. Laney most likely has some clothes in her old room.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked, a bit nervous at how energetic he was this morning. Apparently the two times he’d woken her in the middle of the night hadn’t worn him out.

  “Just eat, put on warm clothes and I’ll go see what else I can find.” He leaned down, kissed her on the forehead and eased back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Trust me?”

  Zara swallowed, nodded. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

  Something flashed through his eyes, but just as quick as it appeared, the image was gone. Braden nodded down to her plate. “Eat up. You’re going to need your energy.”

  “After last night, I’m exhausted.”

  His mouth quirked up in a grin. “Compliments will get you everything.”

  Zara rolled her eyes. “Easy there, tiger. Your ego is showing.”

  “My ego is never hidden,” he countered as he walked to the door. “I’ll have a heavier coat and thick gloves for you downstairs. Meet me by the front door in twenty minutes.”

  Zara gave him a mock salute, which earned her a chuckle as he walked out and closed the bedroom door behind him. She had no clue what he had planned, but obviously something outside. Was Braden an outdoorsy type? What did she truly know about the man she was falling for?

  She broke off another piece of her pastry and smiled. She actually knew quite a bit. He was loyal and he was caring, though he’d never admit it. Family meant everything to him, and he wanted his own one day. He may have a reputation as a hard-ass, a man to be feared in the business world, but the Braden O’Shea she saw was loving.

  Zara finished her breakfast and coffee, then set her dishes on the bedside table. She unplugged her phone from the charger and checked messages. Then she wished she hadn’t. Three texts from Shane asking if she was all right. The first one was a simple question, the second was more demanding and the third was flat-out demanding. Arrogant jerk. Without replying, she laid her phone back down and started getting ready for...whatever it was she was doing this morning. She had emails to get to, but for now she wanted to be with Braden because he’d gone to the trouble of surprising her, and he seemed excited. Zara didn’t know if she should be scared or worried.

  The sooner she got dressed, the sooner she’d find out what Mr. O’Shea had planned.

  Seventeen

  “You’re kidding.”

  Bundled up like an abominable snowman with layers upon mismatched layers, a bright yellow cap on her head and red snow boots, Zara stared at Braden as he knelt down in the knee-high snow and started forming a ball. The man may be a ruthless businessman, but this playful side was just as sexy and appealing.

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?” he shot back over his shoulder. “We’re building a snowman. Get down here and make balls.”

  Zara snorted. “You’re going to freeze yours off,” she muttered.

  “Cute. Now help me.”

  Surveying the pristine blanket of snow, Zara squinted her eyes at the glare from the sun’s reflection. She shoved her gloved hands into the pockets of Laney’s old ski coat. Apparently she’d had some old things in her closet, and Braden claimed his sister wouldn’t care.

  Zara wasn’t sure what had her more scared, the fact that she was getting in deeper with this family or that Braden was showing her his playful side.

  It was the snowman. Something so simple, so traditional hit her right in the gut.

  Braden glanced back over his shoulder, then pushed to his feet. “You’re frowning.”

  “You probably did this all the time growing up,” she stated, looking at the mound he’d started. “It’s ridiculous how something like this freaks me out.”

  Braden stepped closer, peered down at her until she met his gaze. “You’re supposed to be having fun. I want you to experience all the simple things, and I want to be the one to experience them with you. For now, we’re starting with a snowman. Maybe later we can make snow cream or have hot chocolate with little marshmallows.”

  What did he mean he wanted to be the one to experience things with her? Was he thinking long-term? Was he saying he wanted something permanent?

  “Where are we going with this?” she asked.

  Braden braced his hands on her shoulders. “Wherever we want.” He nipped at her lips. “But right now, we’re making a snowman, and we’re going to have fun. Then I’m going to kick your butt at a snowball fight.”

  Zara laughed. “You can try, but don’t take inexperience for weakness.”

  “Is that a challenge?” he asked.

  “Consider yourself warned.” Zara took in a deep, cool breath and sighed. “Now, let’s get to making some big balls.”

  Laughing, Braden sm
acked 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 opt
ed 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.

  “Did you search my house?” she asked, agony lacing her voice as she scooted back from him and clutched the sheet up around her neck as if she needed a shield of protection.

  Braden swallowed the lie that could easily slip out. He wasn’t that guy, not with her. Not anymore. “Yes.”

  Her lips clamped together as moisture gathered in her eyes. “And helping me go through my grandmother’s things. That was another way for you to search?”

  He nodded as lead settled in his gut.

  “That was why you flipped out when you saw me holding that tube.” Her eyes darted away as she spoke, as if she were playing the day back through her mind and realizing what he’d done. “You were in such a hurry to get back here, you wanted that opened so you could see inside it.”