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Trapped With The Tycoon
Jules Bennett


One snowbound night with the boss…Braden O’Shea needs access to Zara Perkins—to her life, to her house. So he hires the stunning event planner to keep her close. But after one magical dance, he finds himself driving her home in a snowstorm—only to be stranded by her side. And now that he’s had a taste of her, seduction is his only goal… Zara stirs his blood like no woman he’s ever known.But the commitment-shy beauty knows she must keep her distance from a man with such a risky reputation. He’s her boss! He’s off-limits. Now if only she can keep her hands to herself until the snow melts…







“What happened last night—”

“Will happen again,” Braden finished. “The pace we set is up to you, but the end result is inevitable.”

Zara shifted to face him. “I need this job.”

“I assumed so, that’s why I hired you.” Well, one of the reasons.

“And the job has nothing to do with what’s going on between us.”

“Nothing is going on,” she all but yelled. “Nothing can go on. Not while I’m working for you.”

“Fine. You’re fired.”

Zara glared at him. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I always get what I want, Zara.”

“And you’re that desperate for a bedmate?”

Leaning forward, his fingertips found the side of her face, stroking down to her neck where she trembled. “No. Just you.”

“Why?” she whispered.

“Why not?” he retorted.

His hand came up to cup the side of her face. He stroked her lip as his other hand cupped the back of her head. A soft sigh escaped her.

“You’re not thinking work right now, are you? You’re concentrating on my touch, on how you want more.”

“What are you doing to me?”

“Proving a point.”

* * *

Trapped with the Tycoon is part of the Mafia Moguls series: For this tight-knit mob family, going legitimate leads to love!


Trapped with the Tycoon

Jules Bennett






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Award-winning author JULES BENNETT is no stranger to romance—she met her husband when she was only fourteen. After dating through high school, the two married. He encouraged her to chase her dream of becoming an author. Jules has now published nearly thirty novels. She and her husband are living their own happily-ever-after while raising two girls. Jules loves to hear from readers through her website, www.julesbennett.com (http://www.julesbennett.com), her Facebook fan page or on Twitter.


When I proposed a mafia series for Mills & Boon Desire, I had no idea how it would go over with my editor. But when Stacy Boyd’s face lit up with excitement, I knew we were on the same page … literally.

This book is for you, Stacy!


Contents

Cover (#u1858a009-6c23-5b2e-a09f-8ccad8614ade)

Introduction (#uf6f72047-d47d-5d88-af23-a95cc046d0bb)

Title Page (#u1694d842-466c-540f-a8dc-2050e258dd4b)

About the Author (#u21891395-4857-57b5-b4a7-caecb14c08e9)

Dedication (#u60766b79-8cc4-5536-bba6-cb6b2330da6f)

One (#ulink_f81efa9e-f7f0-507d-a6ce-43b5c8829914)

Two (#ulink_26d59b47-2a05-557b-b2d2-cf7764cfbac1)

Three (#ulink_0d66a5f5-c713-5283-b918-a4c8a6d3e8c7)

Four (#ulink_f1461903-f1ca-5cbf-8d05-164c5c85f5d3)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#ulink_63f1364a-91cb-5b16-8364-263002961af8)

The second her ex’s fingers closed around her arm, Zara Perkins jerked from the firm grasp. “I’m not dancing, I’m working.”

Having Shane Chapman show up at the biggest job she’d ever taken on for the most prestigious family she’d ever worked for was just her luck. She prided herself on her business, on doing everything in her power to make her clients’ parties the event they hired her for. And Shane could ruin it all.

“You’re such a tease,” he mocked, the whiskey on his breath repugnant. “I saw you looking at me.”

Sure, with disdain when she realized he was in attendance. She’d rather walk barefoot over shards of glass than let his arms wrap around her. Zara prayed Shane would go away. This was a new job, a job she desperately needed. The last thing she wanted to do was have to defend a man she had the misfortune of dating a few times.

“Dance with me.”

The low, demanding words sent shivers through her body. Zara knew without turning around who would be behind her...her new employer and rumored-to-be corrupt business mogul Braden O’Shea.

With Shane directly in front of her and Braden behind her, Zara was literally stuck in the exact predicament she didn’t want to be in on her first big night of working for the O’Sheas. But right now, she was bracketed by two powerful men. One she wanted nothing to do with and the other set her heart racing as only a mysterious, intriguing man could do. The few times she’d been in his office had been a bit difficult to concentrate. Braden O’Shea exuded authority, control and sex appeal.

Humiliation flooded her at the idea that Braden had to intervene. She was here in a professional capacity. Having her ex confront her was not exactly showcasing the reputation she’d worked so hard to build, and coming off as anything less than professional could be career suicide.

Shane glared over her shoulder, silently telling Braden precisely what he thought of the interruption, but before Zara could say a word to either man, Braden took hold of her arm and pulled her to the dance area in the ballroom of his lavish, historical home.

Instantly she was plastered against the oldest of the O’Shea siblings...not a difficult position to find herself in, actually. She had often appreciated the visual of his broad, sexy body wrapped in the finest of black suits with black shirt and no tie. But being up close and personal, breathing in what was undoubtedly expensive, masculine cologne that had her eyes fluttering closed as she inhaled, was another level of torture entirely.

The man exuded sex appeal, but he was her new boss, and she needed this job for the prestige and the insanely large paycheck. This was her first official event with this prominent family after being officially hired a few months ago. Screwups...screwing of any kind...was not allowed.

So, no sex thoughts. None. Okay, maybe later when she was alone.

“I really need to be working.”

A little protest was in order, wasn’t it? Even if sliding against Braden felt like some sort of foreplay in itself, she was the events coordinator for this party. Dancing with the host and boss was a major professional no-no, even if they’d always gotten along well with each other before tonight. There’d always been some ridiculous magnetic energy between them that she’d never experienced before but refused to explore.

Braden’s dark gaze studied her, his mouth unsmiling. “With a dress like that, you should be dancing.”

The sexual undertone wasn’t lost on her. She’d thrown on her go-to black dress with a low V in the back and front, long sleeves, with the hem stopping at her knees. The dress was simple, yet made a statement. Hiding her curves wasn’t an option unless she wore a muumuu. Besides, this was the best dress she’d found in her boxes of belongings since she hadn’t unpacked from her move...three months ago. Because unpacking meant settling in, making roots.

“You’re not paying me to dance,” she told him, though she made no motion to step out of his powerful embrace. Her mind told her this wasn’t professional, but her stubborn body wasn’t getting that memo. “I’m positive this isn’t professional to ignore my position here.”

“You’re on break.”

With one large hand at the small of her back and the other gripping hers, Braden led her in a dance to an old classic. Crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, illuminating the polished wood floor in a kaleidoscope of colors. The wall of French doors leading to the patio gave the room an even larger feel. The O’Sheas were known for their lavish parties, and now that she was in the ballroom, she could see why. Who had an actual ballroom in their house?

Other couples swirled around them, but with few words and those dark, mesmerizing eyes, this man captured her undivided attention. She needed to get back control over this situation because even though Braden insisted she was taking a break, she wasn’t paid to socialize. She was given an insane amount of money to make this annual party an even bigger success than the last one, and she’d heard a rumor the last events coordinator for the O’Sheas was fired in the most humiliating of circumstances. She couldn’t afford slipups.

Or crazy exes.

“I could’ve handled him,” she told Braden. “Shane was just...”

“I’m not talking about another man when I have a beautiful woman in my arms.”

Okay, yeah, that definitely crossed the professional threshold. Each word he spoke dripped with charm, authority...desire. He held his feelings back, remained in control at all times. From what she’d seen, he was calculating, powerful and the aura of mystery surrounding him was even more alluring and sexy.

But, no. She’d just ended things with one powerful, controlling man. She was fine being single and focusing on her year-old business. Her goal was to be the company all major names turned to when needing a party planned or hosting a special event. Having the O’Sheas was a huge leap in the right direction. No matter the rumors surrounding their, well, less-than-legal operations behind the front of their world-renowned auction house, the O’Sheas had connections she could only dream of. She hoped this event led to new clients.

“If you keep scowling, I’m going to think you prefer Shane’s company,” Braden stated, breaking into her thoughts. “Or maybe I interrupted a lover’s quarrel?”

Zara nearly recoiled. “No. Definitely not a lover’s quarrel.”

Had Braden overheard what Shane had said? Heat flooded her cheeks. She’d dated Shane briefly and had broken things off with him weeks ago, yet the man was relentless in trying to get her attention again. When they’d gone on only a few dates, he’d started getting a bit too controlling for her comfort. Thankfully she hadn’t slept with him.

Still, he’d made a point to tell her how fast he could ruin her business. Did he honestly think that would make her give him another chance? Threats were so not the way to a woman’s heart.

She wasn’t one to back down without a fight, but she was realistic, and Shane did have money and connections. She shivered at the severity of his words.

“Cold?” Braden asked.

Braden’s hand drifted up, his fingertips grazed across her bare skin just above the dip in her material.

With the heat in his eyes, there was no way she could claim a chill. The firmness of his body moved perfectly with hers; that friction alone could cause a woman to go up in flames.

“Mr. O’Shea—”

“Braden.”

Zara swallowed. “Fine. Braden,” she corrected, forcing herself to hold his heavy-lidded stare. “I really should check on the drinks—”

“Taken care of.”

“The hors d’oeuvres—”

“Are fine.”

He spun her toward the edge of the dance floor, closer to one set of French doors leading out on to the patio. Snow swirled around outside; a storm for later tonight was in the forecast. February in Boston could be treacherous and unpredictable.

“You’ve done a remarkable job with this evening,” he told her. “I’m impressed.”

She couldn’t suppress the smile. “I’m relieved to hear that. I love my job and want all of my clients happy. Still, dancing when I should be working isn’t something I make a habit of.”

His thumb continued to lightly stroke the bare skin on her back. The man was potent, sparking arousal without even trying. Or maybe he was trying and he was so stellar at being charming, she couldn’t tell.

It took her a moment to realize that Braden had maneuvered her into a corner. With his back to the dancers, he shielded her completely with those broad shoulders and pinned her with that dark, mesmerizing gaze. “I heard what he said to you.”

Zara froze, took a deep breath and chose her next words carefully. “I assure you I would never let anyone or anything affect my ability to work. Shane is—”

“Not going to bother you again,” he assured her with a promising yet menacing tone. Braden’s eyes darted over her body, touching her just the same as his talented fingertips had done mere moments ago.

No. No, no, no. Hadn’t she already scolded herself for having lustful thoughts? He was her boss, for pity’s sake. No matter how intriguing Braden O’Shea was, she had no room for sex in her life right now. No wonder she was grouchy.

“Storm is kicking up.” Braden nodded over her shoulder toward the floor-to-ceiling window. “Do you live far?”

“Maybe twenty minutes away.”

“If you need to leave—”

“No.” Zara shook her head, holding a hand up to stop him. “I’ve lived in Boston my entire life. Snow doesn’t bother me. Besides, I would never leave an event early.”

Braden studied her a moment before nodding. “I’m happy to hear that, but I don’t want you driving on these roads. My driver will make sure you get home.”

“There’s no need for that.”

Braden leaned in, just enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. “Let’s not waste time arguing when we should be dancing.”

Snaking an arm around her waist, he pulled her against his body once again. Apparently her break wasn’t over. Good thing, because she wasn’t quite ready to leave the luxury of brushing against his taut body.

* * *

Her curves were killer from a visual standpoint, but to have them beneath his hands was damn near crippling. Braden knew she was a sexy woman, but he hadn’t expected this sizzling attraction. He had a plan and he needed to stay focused. Those damn curves momentarily threw him off his game.

Zara in her elegant black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline showcasing the swell of her breasts was absolutely stunning, eye-catching and causing him to lose focus on the true intent of this party.

Which was why he hadn’t missed the encounter when one of his most hated enemies sidled up next to the woman Braden had been gazing at off and on earlier in the evening. A flash of jealousy had speared him. Ridiculous, since Zara was merely the events coordinator...and that job had not come about by chance. Braden had purposely chosen her. He needed to get closer, close enough to gain access into her personal, private life and into her home. His family’s heritage could be hidden in her house, and she’d have no clue if she stumbled upon the items.

Nothing could keep him from fulfilling his deathbed promise to his dad.

Braden was all for adding in a little seduction on his way to gaining everything he’d ever wanted. Pillow talk always loosened the tongue, and if Zara could tell him everything he needed to know, then he wouldn’t have to break any laws...at least where she was concerned. He’d be a fool to turn that combination down and there was no way he could ignore how her body moved so perfectly against his. He also hadn’t missed how her breath had caught the second he’d touched her exposed back. He had to admit, just to himself, the innocent touch had twisted something in him, as well. Arousal was a strong, overwhelming emotion, and one he had to keep control over.

For now, he needed to remember he was the head of the family and as the leader, he had a duty to fulfill. Flirting, seducing and even a little extracurricular activities were fine, so long as he kept his eye on the target.

Tonight O’Shea’s Auction House was celebrating not only being a prominent, world-renowned auction house for over eighty years, but also the opening of two more satellite locations in Atlanta and Miami, thanks to his brother, Mac, who had moved down to Miami to oversee the properties.

Boston would always be home to the main store, Braden’s store, now that his father was gone. And now that Braden was fully in charge, there were going to be some changes. This family had to move toward being legit. The stress and pressure Braden had seen his father go through wasn’t something Braden wanted for his future. The massive heart attack that stole Patrick O’Shea’s life wasn’t brought on by leading a normal, worry-free life.

Braden had a five-year plan. Surely in that time they could remove themselves from any illegal ties and slowly sever those bonds. The killings had to stop. That was the first order of business, but tonight, after seeing Shane manhandle Zara, Braden was almost ready to go back on his vow.

Death was nothing new to him. He’d witnessed his father give a kill order multiple times for reasons he’d always justified. Braden may not have always agreed with his father’s ways, but his father was an effective businessman and well respected.

Zara’s deep chocolate eyes shifted around the room before landing back on him. “Your brother is coming this way.”

Braden didn’t turn, didn’t relinquish his hold on Zara. The music continued, guests around them danced and chatted, but Braden paid them no mind.

“We need to talk,” Mac stated.

Braden stopped dancing but didn’t let go of Zara as he threw Mac a glance over his shoulder. “I’ll meet you in the study in five minutes.”

“Now.”

Braden resisted the urge to curse. He prided himself on control. “Five minutes,” he said, before turning back and focusing solely on Zara.

He picked up right where they’d left off dancing. He could still feel Mac behind him, so Braden maneuvered his partner toward the edge of the dance floor. Zara was his for now, and sharing their time wasn’t an option.

“You can go talk to him.” Zara smiled, a deep dimple winking back at him. The innocence of the dimple and the sex appeal of that dress were polar opposite. “I should be working anyway, you know.”

He was paying her to work, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like the feel of her in his arms, against him. There would be time for more later. He’d make sure of it. Gaining her trust on a personal level would lead him exactly where he needed to be.

Gliding his fingertips over her exposed back one last time, Braden stepped away from Zara and tipped his head. “I’ll find you when I’m done with Mac. If you have any more problems with Shane, you come straight to me.”

Zara nodded, clasping her hands in front of her and searching the room as if trying to get a location on the man in question. “I’ll be fine. Go talk to your brother, and thank you for the dance. I have to get back to work.”

Braden closed the space between them, picked up her hand and kissed her delicate knuckles. “I should be thanking you.”

Her mouth parted as she let out a slight gasp when his lips grazed her hand. Yes, enticing her would be no problem at all. He’d been waiting on the right opportunity, the moment he could get the greatest impact out of this game of seduction.

First things first, he had to see what the issue was with his younger brother. Braden excused himself and went in search of Mac.

The entire O’Shea family had come for the party despite the bad weather predictions for the Boston area, including cousins from Boston and down the East Coast, his brother, sister and Ryker.

What kind of celebration would this be for the O’Sheas if the whole Irish clan didn’t attend? Mac would be overseeing the southern locations, a job he was all too eager to take over and to get out of the cold winters for, especially since his best friend, Jenna, had moved to Miami about a year ago.

Once in the study, Braden closed the door behind him and crossed the polished wood floors. Mac leaned against the old mahogany desk, swirling bourbon around in his tumbler. Braden knew it was bourbon without even asking because the O’Sheas were simple men with simple needs—power, good bourbon and women. The order varied depending on the circumstance.

“You need to calm down,” Mac commanded. “That murderous look in your eyes is scaring our guests.”

“I’m calm.” To prove it, Braden flashed a smile. “See?”

Mac shook his head. “Listen, I know you hate Shane Chapman. We all do. He’s a lying prick. But, whatever his personal—”

“He’s harassing Zara.”

Braden stopped short just before he reached his brother and crossed his arms over his chest. Shane Chapman was the bane of the O’Sheas’ existence. A few years ago, he’d attempted to hire the auction house to acquire an heirloom illegally. Braden had made a valiant effort to get it, spending more time and money than he really should’ve, but to no avail.

Viewing it as a deliberate slight, Shane had attempted to blackmail the O’Sheas. His laughable threats were quickly taken care of by means nobody discussed. Shane was lucky he was still breathing because that had been during the Patrick O’Shea reign.

Shane was only at this party for one reason—the whole “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” wasn’t just a clever saying.

“Keep your eye on him,” Braden went on. “This can’t interfere with the plans. If Shane needs to go...”

Mac nodded. “I’ll let Ryker know.”

Ryker. The O’Sheas’ right-hand man, who may as well have been born into the family. Instead, he’d been unofficially adopted as a rebellious preteen, and he’d been with them since.

But damn it, Braden didn’t want blood on his hands. He wanted to concentrate on retrieving the heirlooms and relics their auction house was officially known for. They had an elite list of clients, and word of mouth always brought more on board. The timeless pieces the O’Sheas uncovered all over the world kept their business thriving. Several pieces were “discovered” by less-than-legal means, but they were paid hefty sums to be discreet. Smuggling in items with legal loads for big auctions was easy to do.

“I think your approach to Zara isn’t the smartest.” Mac sipped his bourbon. “You’re coming on too strong and not focusing.”

Braden narrowed his gaze. “That’s a pretty bold statement coming from the man who has a woman in every major city.”

Mac eyed him over the glass. “We’re not talking about me. Unless you’d like me to seduce the beautiful party planner.”

“Keep your damn hands off her.”

Why was he suddenly so territorial? Braden had no claims on Zara.

But he’d held her, felt her against him and seen a thread of vulnerability when Zara had been looking at Shane. He refused to see any woman harassed or mistreated.

His sister, Laney, was currently dating some schmuck, who could be demeaning at times. Yet another issue Braden would deal with now that he was in charge. No way in hell would he allow his baby sister to be belittled by anyone. Ever.

“Leave Zara to me, and you concentrate on your new locations,” Braden told his brother. “Is that all you needed?”

Mac finished off his drink, setting his tumbler down on the desk. “For now. I’ll keep an eye on Shane. Ryker will be a last resort. I know you want to move in a different direction, but Shane can’t interfere. We’re too close to finding those scrolls.”

Braden nodded and headed back out to the party. Those scrolls, all nine of them, were centuries old and held immense power over Braden’s family. He wanted them back, and at one time, during the Great Depression, they’d been in the home Zara currently lived in. Supposedly they’d been stored in a trunk that had been sold decades ago. Unfortunately, the trunk had been recently tracked down but as the scrolls hadn’t been inside, they were back to square one with Zara’s house as the last known location.

Just as Braden cleared the wide opening leading to the ballroom, he spotted Shane standing over Zara. She shook her head and started to turn when Shane’s hand whipped out and gripped her bicep, jerking her back to his chest.

Braden didn’t care about moving stealthily through the crowd. He felt Mac right behind him as he charged forward. His brother always had his back.

“Remove your hand from Miss Perkins’s arm.” Braden didn’t try to mask the rage in his tone. He waited a beat, but Shane still held tight and kept his back to Braden. “Remove your hand or I won’t need to get my security team. I’ll throw your ass out myself.”

Over his shoulder, Braden heard Mac telling someone, most likely one of their employees, to have security on standby. Braden knew Mac was only looking out for everyone’s best interest, but Braden could only see red right now. Thankfully, Shane had backed Zara into a corner, and the guests were still milling about, oblivious to the action.

Shane threw a glance over his shoulder. “This doesn’t concern you. Zara and I have a little unfinished business. Just a lover’s spat.”

The look on her face told Braden there wasn’t anything unfinished here and this sure as hell wasn’t a lover’s spat—she’d told him as much earlier.

Zara’s wide, dark eyes held his. Even though she had her chin tipped up in defiance, her lips thinned in anger, there was a spark of fear in those eyes, and Braden wouldn’t tolerate Shane one more second.

Braden grabbed on to Shane’s wrist, applying pressure in the exact spot to cause maximum pain. “Take your damn hand off her. Now.”

Shane gave Zara’s arm a shove. “You can’t keep avoiding me,” he told her, rubbing his wrist where Braden had squeezed. “Next time I call, you better answer or I’ll come by your office. I doubt you want that.”

Just as Shane turned, Braden blocked his exit. “If you ever touch her or any woman that way again and I hear of it, you’ll wish for death. Feel me?”

Shane hesitated a second before he laughed, slapping Braden on the shoulder. “You’re Patrick O’Shea’s son, right down to the threats. And here I thought you were too good to get your hands dirty.”

Even though the bastard had touched Braden, he wasn’t about to take the bait Shane dangled in front of him. Flexing his fists, Braden was more than ready to hit Shane, but he knew deep down he wasn’t like his father.

Braden had never ordered anyone to be killed, had always said he wouldn’t. Right now, though, he was reconsidering that promise he’d made to himself.

“There’s a first time for everything,” he promised just as two security men in black suits came to show Shane the door.

They didn’t put their hands on him, as that would’ve caused even more of a scene, but they did flank either side of the nuisance and walk him toward the closest exit. People around him stared for only a moment before going back to their conversations. Nearly everyone knew to mind their business if they wanted to remain in the O’Sheas’ tight circle.

As soon as Shane was gone, Braden went back in with Zara.

“You okay here?” Mac whispered behind him.

With a nod, Braden wrapped his arm around Zara’s waist. “We’re fine. Cover for me.” He silently led her to the small sitting room off the ballroom and closed the door behind him before turning to face Zara. She rubbed her arm, and it took all of Braden’s willpower not to rush back out and follow through on his need to punch Shane.

Braden gently took Zara’s other arm, trying to ignore the brush of his knuckles against the side of her breast, and guided her toward one of the leather club chairs.

Flicking on the light on the accent table by the chair, Braden squatted down in front of her.

“Braden—”

He held up his hand, cutting her off. “Let me see your arm.”

“I’m fine. I really need to get back to work. I’m sorry I caused a scene.”

“Either pull your sleeve up or pull the shoulder down so I can see.”

Zara hesitated a moment, then pulled the material off her shoulder, exposing creamy white skin and a royal blue strap from her bra. She shrugged enough to pull her arm up a bit.

Rage bubbled within Braden at the sight of blue fingerprint-shaped bruises already forming on her flawless skin. “I should’ve knocked him out.”

Slowly, Braden eased the material back over her arm and shoulder. Her eyes held his and her body trembled as she placed her hand over his, halting his movement.

“I’m fine,” she assured him again. “I really need to get back to work. I appreciate what you did, though.”

He hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten until he felt her soft breath on his cheek. He glanced up to her, his eyes darting down to her lips.

“My motives aren’t always so selfless.”

The corner of her mouth quirked. “Whatever your motives are, they were effective.”

He leaned in closer, close enough that barely a breath could pass between their lips. “I’m always effective.”


Two (#ulink_73fe95e9-8eb4-5afc-b756-b42b2450d1f6)

Effective. Thorough. Protective. So many adjectives could be used to describe Braden O’Shea. Yet he’d come to her defense without question earlier when Shane had snapped.

Zara nestled deeper into her coat as the heat from Braden’s SUV hit her. This dress had been such a good idea when she’d been inside. Now that the snow was near blizzard-like conditions, not so much. She’d had to swap her sexy heels for snow boots, which she’d packed with her once she’d seen the forecast. So now the allure of her favorite LBD was lost thanks to the thick, rubber-soled, sensible shoes.

“When you said you’d have your driver bring me home, I didn’t know you were the driver.” She glanced over, taking in his profile illuminated from the glowing dash lights. In the dark, Braden seemed even more mysterious, more enigmatic.

“After the incident with Shane, I’m not placing your safety in anyone else’s hands.” He gripped the wheel as the tires slid, then gained traction again. “I wouldn’t want you driving in this mess anyway. I heard a couple at the party say the forecasters mentioned feet instead of inches.”

Zara’s breath caught in her throat as Braden carefully maneuvered around a slick corner with skill. The back end fishtailed before he righted the vehicle. They’d only passed two other cars since leaving his historic Beacon Hill mansion.

“I’m so sorry about this,” she told him, once the car was on a straight path and she could focus on breathing normally. “I should’ve left when you suggested it earlier because of the bad weather. Then Shane wouldn’t have been a problem, and you wouldn’t be out in this mess.”

“Shane will be a problem until he meets his match.” Braden flashed her a wicked grin that looked even more ominous due to the minimal lighting. There was also the veiled implication that Braden was the perfect match for Shane. “As for the weather, don’t worry about it. This storm came on faster than I thought, and I have nothing else to do tonight.”

“Hopefully the guests all made it home okay,” she said, voicing her thoughts. The caterers had left around the same time she did, so hopefully they were safe, too. “They left over an hour ago, so maybe it wasn’t too bad then.”

She’d stayed behind to clean up and make sure the place was just as it had been before she’d entered—as she did with every event. All part of the party-planning business. Still, there would be a few people left from the cleaning service. She hoped they all got home okay, as well.

“You live alone?”

Braden’s question sliced through the quiet. As if she could actually forget she was this close to the world’s sexiest man. Then again, she didn’t know every man in the world, but she’d still put Braden O’Shea and his sultry eyes and broad frame against anyone.

“Yes. I actually just moved into my grandmother’s home three months ago. She’d just passed away, and I’m the only relative she had left.”

“Sorry about your loss.” In a move that surprised her, Braden reached across the console and squeezed her hand in a gesture of comfort before easing back. She didn’t take him for the comforting type, but she knew in her heart his words and his touch were sincere.

“My father has been gone six months,” he went on, his tone understanding. “On one hand, it seems like yesterday. On the other, I feel like I’m going to wake up from a nightmare and he’ll be fine. None of us had a clue his heart was so bad.”

Zara swallowed. She knew that nightmare-versus-reality feeling all too well. In the midst of her fantasizing over Braden, she’d not figured in the fact this man was still vulnerable, still suffering from a loss just as big as her own. Great, she’d not only been unprofessional tonight, she’d also been heartless.

“It’s rough.” For the first time since her grandmother’s passing, Zara felt comfortable opening up to someone. Shane certainly hadn’t been consoling in the few times they’d dated...another red flag where he’d been concerned. “Living in her home feels strange. I remember sleeping over there when I was little, but now it just seems so much larger, so empty.”

Zara had never been afraid to live alone, but in a house this size, she was a little creeped out at night—the old ghost rumors didn’t help, either. Perhaps once she rid the house of some of the antiques and actually unpacked her own things, that would help the place feel more like home. But she wasn’t to that point yet. Removing her grandmother’s favorite things just didn’t seem right yet. And unpacking... Definitely not something Zara was comfortable with. A shrink would have a blast digging inside her mind over the reasons Zara had a fear of commitment even when it came to a house.

Red-and-blue flashing lights lit up behind them. Braden threw a glance in the mirror, his jaw clenched as he maneuvered cautiously to the side of the road.

Zara tensed, gripping her coat even tighter. What was wrong? They certainly hadn’t been speeding. The rumors about the O’Sheas having illegal operations going flooded her mind. She didn’t know whether the myth was true or false and it wasn’t her place to judge, but she couldn’t help but wonder. All she knew was they were powerful and they were paying her well. Oh, and Braden was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes, or hands, on.

Braden glanced at her. “Don’t say anything.”

Stunned, Zara nodded. What would she say?

Braden put his window down as the officer approached. “Evening, Officer.”

The trooper leaned down and looked into the car. “The roads are at a level two now, and they’re getting ready to up that to a three. Are you folks out because of an emergency?”

“No, sir. I’m giving my employee a ride home because I didn’t think it was safe for her to be out alone.”

The officer’s eyes scanned over Zara, and she offered a slight smile.

“How far away is her house?”

“Just right up the street,” Braden said, pointing. Zara had given him directions before they’d started out, and they were actually only a few houses away from hers.

“I suggest you plan on staying put once you drop her off. Any drivers caught out once the level three goes into effect will be ticketed,” the officer stated. “I’ll follow you to make sure you get there all right.”

The full impact of the trooper’s words hit Zara fast. Braden had to stay put? As in...stay the night? At her house? A ball of nerves quickly formed in her stomach. Her boss was spending the night? Her boss, whom she found utterly sexy and nearly irresistible, and there was already crackling sexual tension charging between them? Sure, this would be no problem at all.

“Thank you, Officer,” Braden replied “We appreciate that.”

Braden rolled his window up as the officer went back to his car. Silence filled the vehicle, and the weight of what was about to happen settled between them.

Zara risked a glance at Braden, but he didn’t seem affected one bit. He kept his eyes forward, occasionally checking his mirrors as he pulled right into her drive. The cop gave a honk as he passed on by. Braden maneuvered the SUV around the slight curve that led to the detached garage around back.

Once he parked and killed the engine, Zara couldn’t take the tension another second. She unfastened and turned to face him.

“I’m so sorry,” she started. “Had I known you’d have to stay, I wouldn’t have let you bring me home.”

Braden threw her a lopsided smile. “No reason to be sorry. I don’t mind spending the night with a beautiful woman.”

* * *

Braden was well aware of his power. Hell, everyone who’d ever heard the name O’Shea knew the authority this family possessed. They even had a few of the local cops and federal agents in their back pockets...which had kept them out of the proverbial hot water more than once.

But even Braden couldn’t have planned the timing of this snowstorm better, or the condition of the roads. Under different circumstances, he probably would’ve chanced driving back home regardless of the officer’s warning. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone against the law. But why would he want to leave? A forced stay at Zara’s home was the green light he’d been waiting for, and it had come so much sooner than he’d ever intended. No way in hell was he leaving now. Not when this sexual chemistry between them had skyrocketed since he’d held her in his arms.

As he pulled his vehicle up to the garage, the streetlights went out. He cursed under his breath as the entire street was plunged into black. “Looks like the power went.”

“Great,” Zara muttered. “I don’t have a generator. But I do have some heat that isn’t electric. I’ve only used those gas logs once in my bedroom, and I’ve never tried to light the ones in the living room. Guess I’ll have to figure it out in the dark.”

Braden didn’t know what got his blood pumping more: the fact he’d be able to fulfill his father’s dying request and search this house, or the fact he’d be all alone in the dark with his sexy new employee.

He pulled to a stop by her back door. “Stay there. I’ll come around to help you in.”

He didn’t wait for her to agree as he hopped out into the freezing temps to round the hood, using his phone to light a path. Even though he was still wearing his suit from the party, he’d thought ahead and changed from his dress shoes to his boots.

Jerking on the frozen handle, Braden opened the passenger door and took Zara’s gloved hand as he settled his arm around her waist. The second she slid down from her seat, her body fell flush against his—well, as flush as it could be with the layers between them. Zara tipped her face up to his. Snow drifted onto her long, dark lashes, framing those rich chocolate eyes. Her unpainted mouth practically begged for affection as flakes melted against pale pink skin.

Damn it. That punch of lust to the gut was going to get him in trouble if he wasn’t careful. He had a goal, and Zara was merely a stepping-stone. Harsh as that sounded, he had to remain fixed on the objective his late father had been adamant about—finding the family’s lost heirlooms. Braden was near positive they were hidden somewhere inside Zara’s house...a house that used to be in his family up until they lost everything in the Great Depression.

“You know, I can walk,” she laughed, holding up her heels. “I swapped shoes, so I’m good.”

“Maybe I’m holding on to you so I don’t go down,” he retorted as he closed the door behind her and locked his vehicle. “I’ll hold the light so you can get your keys out.”

He kept an arm around her as they made fresh tracks to her back door. The snow was already well past their ankles, and the fat flakes continued to fall.

Zara pulled a set of keys from her coat pocket and gestured him into the house ahead of her. Once inside, she turned to the keypad and attempted to reset the alarm. With a shrug, Zara said, “Habit to come in and enter my code. Guess that’s out, too.”

Braden ran his light over the room, noticing how spacious the kitchen was and the wide, arched doorway leading into the living area. More light would be nice, now that he was actually inside. Somewhere his father was laughing at the irony of Braden finally getting in...and not being able to see a damn thing. But a power outage wasn’t going to stop him from making use of this opportunity.

“Do you have flashlights and candles?” he asked, bringing his light back around but careful to keep it from shining in her eyes.

“I know where my candles are, but I’m not sure about the flashlights. I’ve only been here a few months. I haven’t actually unpacked everything, yet.” Zara removed her coat and hung it by the back door. “Let me hang your coat up since you’re staying.”

Braden removed his coat and started to hand it over when Zara reached out, her hand connecting with his cheek. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to punch you.”

Braden welcomed the impact, as her fist caused no damage but reminded him that he needed to focus. “I’m fine,” he stated as he maneuvered out of his coat while holding his light. “It’s hard to see, so I’d say we’ll be bumping into each other.”

Not that he was complaining about the prospect of randomly brushing against her. Braden actually welcomed the friction. So long as he kept his goal in the forefront of his mind, bumping into Zara was definitely not a hardship.

“I know I have a candle in here and one on the coffee table in the living room. The matches are in the drawer beside the sink.” She placed his coat on a hook beside hers. “I should try to figure out these gas logs in the living room first with the light of your phone.”

She eased past him, her feet shuffling along the floor. Braden held his light over to where she was heading. Pulling open a drawer, Zara grabbed a box of matches before coming back to him.

She started forward but stopped. “You better stay close so you don’t bump anything. I have several boxes in each room that are left from the move.”

Stay close? No problem at all. Braden slid his hand around the dip in her waist and gave her a light squeeze as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “How’s this?”

Beneath his touch, her body trembled. Just the reaction he’d wanted...except now he was on the verge of trembling, too, because damn, she smelled so amazingly good and her silky hair tickled his lips. Wait, wasn’t he the one who was supposed to be seducing? She wasn’t even trying, and she nearly had him begging.

“Well, maybe not that close,” she murmured as she attempted to put distance between them.

He moved with her, keeping their contact light so as not to freak her out right off the bat. Let her get used to his touch, his nearness. He planned on getting a whole lot closer.

“You realize this isn’t a good idea?” she asked.

“Lighting the logs is the best idea. It’s going to get colder in here if the electricity doesn’t come back on.”

Her soft laugh filled the darkness. “You know what I mean. I work for you.”

“I’m aware of your position.” With his hand on her waist, Braden held his phone toward the living room. “I know we need to get heat in here, and if it’s not with the logs, then we’ll have to use a more...primal method.”

Zara slowly started forward. “Acting on any desire because of the circumstances is a bad, bad idea for both of us.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing, Zara.” He allowed his body to move with hers, making sure to stay close. “Why don’t we work on keeping warm and finding more sources of light? Then we can discuss the circumstances and what’s going on between us.”

Zara threw him a look over her shoulder. “We can settle this right now. I need this job and even if I was attracted to you—”

“Which you are.”

“If I was,” she countered in a louder tone to cut him off. “I wouldn’t risk sleeping with you and damaging our working relationship.”

He could barely make out her face in the darkness, and his light was facing ahead. But the way her body slightly leaned against his, the way she continued to tremble beneath his touch told him that her little speech was as much for her as it was for him. A slight obstacle but nothing he couldn’t handle.

At first he’d been all about searching her home, and he still was, but there was no reason a little seducing couldn’t come into play. He was an expert multitasker, and having Zara plus finding his family’s heirlooms would be the icing on the proverbial cake.

After a fun romp and hopefully discovering his family’s scrolls, Braden would be on his way, and she’d never even have to know his true intentions. Nobody would get hurt, and everything about this situation was legal. See? He did have a moral side, after all.

She could deny wanting him, but he was a master at lying and recognized that trait in others. So, let her think what she wanted...he knew the truth, and he’d completely use her attraction to his advantage.

“Fair enough,” he told her. “I’ll not mention it again.”

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t touch her or seduce her with his actions. The darkness provided the perfect setting for seduction, but it could make it a bit harder to snoop. Granted, the darkness could also provide him the cover he needed to look without being seen.

So, as far as he understood, the nine scrolls, which had been in his family since his ancestor transcribed them from Shakespeare himself, were last known to be in this house. The history ran deep with his Irish family, and the precious scrolls were lost in the chaos of the fall of the O’Sheas during the 1930s. The trunk that had been recovered from this home after the Depression had shown up empty, so it only made sense the scrolls were here...somewhere.

Decades had passed, and Braden’s family had attempted to purchase the property, but Zara’s family had owned it since the O’Sheas lost it and they were adamant about not being bought.

Several attempts were made by Braden’s father to purchase the place, but the efforts were always blocked. Eventually Patrick opted to go about things the illegal way. Ryker had even broken in a couple of times when Zara’s grandmother had been alive. The old lady had been sharp, and Ryker had been forced to dodge the cops, but they were still left empty-handed. Patrick O’Shea had even mentioned waiting until the elderly lady passed and trying again to purchase the property, but Patrick had passed before Zara’s grandmother.

So, Braden would get the job done himself. Failure was not an option, and buying the place wasn’t necessary at this point.

Would the scrolls be somewhere obvious? Doubtful, or someone would’ve found them by now, and if those scrolls had been found, they would’ve made headlines around the world. His ancestor, a monk, had transcribed original works, supposedly plays that never came to be.

Zara sank to her knees in front of the fireplace. “Shine that light a little closer.”

He did as requested, waiting while she fidgeted with getting the pilot light going.

“Need help?” he offered.

“Damn it.” She sat back on her heels and shook her head. “This one isn’t working. It was always causing Gram issues, but I’d assumed it was fixed. I know the unit in my bedroom works fine because I’ve used it.”

Braden shouldn’t delight in the fact her bedroom had gas heat and nowhere else in the house seemed to, but he was a guy, and, well, he couldn’t help himself.

“Then maybe we should find those flashlights and more candles and head upstairs.”

Zara threw him a look over her shoulder as she came to her feet and turned to fully face him. “Get that gleam out of your eye. I’m on to you.”

Not yet she wasn’t.

“What gleam?” he asked. “It’s dark, so how can you see anything?”

“Oh, I can see enough and this can’t get any more awkward than it already is.”

“I’m not feeling awkward at all.” He focused back on her eyes and offered a smile. “Are you?”

“Damn it, you know I am. Even if this—” she gestured between them “—wasn’t making me nervous, you’re my first overnight guest in this house.”

Surprised, Braden shifted. “You mean Shane—damn. None of my business.”

Zara crossed her arms over her chest. “After rescuing me tonight, I’d say this is your business. Shane never stayed here. We were dating when my grandmother passed, but he wasn’t there for me much during that time. That’s when I started reevaluating our relationship.”

A pity Braden couldn’t have gotten away with punching Shane in the face, but he hadn’t wanted to cause any more of a scene at his home during the party. This was his first appearance as head of the family; he needed to hold tight to that power, that control.

What man wasn’t there for his woman during a difficult time? Shane had always been a bit of a stuffed shirt, a man who probably polished his cuff links and didn’t even know how to pleasure a woman properly. Braden knew for damn sure when he got Zara into bed, he’d know exactly what to do to her, with her and for her.

Seduction hadn’t been a key factor in his grand scheme, but he wasn’t looking the gift horse in the mouth. He couldn’t deny the attraction, and why should he ignore such a strong pull?

“I don’t want to talk about Shane.” Zara maneuvered around him. “Let’s go find the flashlights. I suppose you’ll have to sleep in my room, but that is not an invitation to any other activity.”

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” He’d have her begging before the night was over. “You won’t have to worry about a thing.” Except that he’d be snooping through her house once she fell asleep, and he’d be stealing back what was rightfully his.

Braden shone his light toward the steps and watched her head up. Like a predator after his prey, he followed those swaying hips snug in that killer dress. If he were totally honest with himself, he’d admit that Zara had the upper hand here. Even though she had no idea why she’d been hired and why he was so eager to be in her home, she had completely taken him by surprise with her professionalism, her kick-ass attitude and her sliver of vulnerability. She’d worked his party with a smile on her face and a firm hand where her assistants were concerned, all the while trying to keep Shane silenced and take on the difficult situation herself.

He tamped down his frustration. No personal emotions were allowed to creep in on his plan. A fling was all he’d allow.

He was on a mission, and Zara was in the crosshairs.


Three (#ulink_2affa1cf-4349-5376-bacd-825fdf343022)

Zara stepped into her bedroom, even more aware of the crackling intimacy. The intense stare Braden had offered, the way his eyes had darted to her lips more than once...she wasn’t naive and she wasn’t afraid of the rumors of him being such a bad boy.

Although he’d felt very bad in a delicious way when he’d been dancing with her earlier.

However, she was fully aware that he was her boss and no matter how much she ached for him to make a move, she knew anything beyond a professional relationship would be a mistake. Besides, she couldn’t commit herself to anything other than a physical relationship with any man, so that definitely left Braden O’Shea out.

Zara suppressed a laugh as they stood just inside her bedroom. Yes, this was totally professional, especially since she had a stack of bras on her dresser she’d yet to put away. Thankfully he hadn’t shone the light there yet. At least the unpacked boxes were lining her walk-in closet, so that was helpful.

“My room is the only one with a king bed, but I can sleep on the chaise and you can have the bed.”

Her face flushed. Why had she said anything about a bed? Why talk about the elephant in the room? She’d been so worried about this situation becoming awkward, but she was the one making it worse. Clearly Braden wasn’t nervous. And why should he be? He was well aware of how jittery she was, which only proved he held the upper hand here.

“I just meant that you’re a big guy and you’d be more comfortable in my bed—er, a bigger bed.” Great, Zara. Keep babbling. When one foot goes in the mouth, throw the other one in, as well.

Braden leaned against the door frame to her bedroom. With his light facing outward, she couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“I’m making you nervous.”

Clearly she wasn’t convincing him that she was confident. “No... Maybe a little.”

That low, rich laugh filled the bedroom, enveloping her in an awareness of just how intimate this situation was going to get, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

“Chemistry and attraction can often be misinterpreted as nerves.”

Zara couldn’t help but laugh. “Get off the attraction. I’m your employee, and your bold statements make this awkward.”

“I see no reason not to be bold.” He shifted, closing the gap slightly between them. “But I’ve promised not to bring up the matter again, so let’s just focus on staying warm. It’s late, and we both need sleep.”

Really? He was just going to leave it at that? Maybe he was going to hold true to his word. Zara was almost disappointed, but she shouldn’t be. Braden had to be strong, because if he continued to make remarks or advances, she didn’t know how long her self-control would hold out.

Hopefully the roads would be better tomorrow, and Braden could go home. Then this would all be a memory, and they would move on with their working relationship. Because that’s what they should do, right? He had another party coming up in a few months, and since she’d been hired as the O’Sheas’ permanent events coordinator, she had to keep her mind focused on her career.

“I’ll hold the light,” he told her. “Let’s get these logs on.”

After the logs were on and heat started filling the room, then they went in search of more flashlights, and Zara grabbed her cell. She had almost a full battery and she hoped it held out until the electricity came back on. If need be, she could always charge it in his car if the electricity stayed off too long.

Unfortunately, the snow was still coming down just as fierce as it had been, and with the roads being a hazard, Zara had no doubt it would be a while before crews could work on the lines.

Mother Nature clearly had it out for her. First the roads, now the electricity. Throw in some darkness and watch that sexual tension skyrocket and blow their clothes off.

Zara cringed. No. The clothes had to stay on. They were her only shield of defense because she’d already imagined her boss naked, and if he actually took that suit off, she would not be responsible for her actions.

Once back in her bedroom, Braden closed the door to keep the heat in. Zara had lit a candle and sat it on her nightstand. The flickering, warm glow sent the room to a level of romance that had no business being here.

And then the fact that she was still wearing her black dress hit her. Great. So much for keeping all the clothes on.

“Um, I’m going to have to change.” She hated how her tone sounded apologetic. This was her house, damn it. “I don’t have anything to offer you unless you can fit in a pair of small sweatpants and one of my T-shirts.”

“I’ll be fine. Go, get out of that dress.”

Those words combined with that sexy tone of his had her sighing. He’d promised not to mention sex, but the man practically oozed it with every action, every word.

“Can you wait in the hall for a second?” she asked.

Taking his own flashlight, Braden stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Zara quickly shoved her bras into her drawer and whipped her snug dress over her head. She peeled off her stockings and tossed them into a drawer, too. She really wanted to lose the bra, but she couldn’t get that comfortable with her sexy guest.

As she pulled on a pair of leggings and an oversize sweatshirt, Zara truly wished she’d met Braden under different circumstances. Maybe then they could explore this attraction, but she couldn’t risk intimacy when she needed this job, this recognition too much. She’d only had her grandmother, and now she was gone. There was no husband, no other family to fall back on if her financial world crumbled. Her company was only a year old, and being tied to the O’Sheas would launch her into a new territory of clientele.

Yes, the rumors of O’Shea’s Auction House being the front for illegal activity had been abuzz for years—decades, even—but the mystery surrounding the family only kept people more intrigued, so Zara would gladly ride the coattails of their popularity.

After sliding on a pair of fuzzy socks and pulling her hair into a ponytail, Zara opened the door. Braden was texting but glanced up at her and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“I had to check in with the security team. I try to keep them updated on my whereabouts.”

“Oh, you don’t have to explain yourself.”

“You look...different.”

With a shrug, Zara glanced down to her outfit. “This is me in my downtime. I’m pretty laid-back.”

Why did the room seem so much smaller when he came back in from the hallway? Why did he have such a presence about him that demanded attention? And how the hell did she act? What was the proper protocol for bringing your billionaire boss to your house and then having him spend the night? Milk and cookies? Bourbon and a cigar? She honestly didn’t know the man on a personal level.

Zara’s cell vibrated on her dresser. With the screen facing down, she didn’t see the caller before she picked it up and automatically slid her finger over the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”

“Shane.”

Zara’s eyes darted to Braden. In the dim light she could see his narrowed gaze, his jaw clenched.

“I know I acted like a jerk earlier, but I want another chance with you and I was worried about you getting home in this storm.”

Were his words slurring?

“Shane, it’s nearly one in the morning. Are you drunk?”

He must’ve shifted, because there was the slightest bit of static coming through the phone before he continued. “I miss you, Zara.”

She turned her back to Braden and rubbed her forehead. “I got home safe. Thanks for checking, but we really are over, Shane. Good night.”

“Don’t hang up.” Now his voice rose, as if the real Shane was emerging. “You’re selfish, you know that? I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re already dismissing me. We were good together, you know it.”

“No, we weren’t, and I’m done with—”

Suddenly the phone was ripped from her hand. Zara whirled around as Braden hit the end button and then turned the phone off.

“You won’t explain yourself to him.”

Zara sighed. Damn it, why did he have to be right? “He’s not been this persistent until the past week or so. I’m not sure why he wants to get back together so bad, but I swear he won’t affect my work with you.”

Braden closed the gap between them and stared down at her. The darkness slashing over half his face made him seem even more menacing, more intriguing.

“I don’t give a damn about that. I know you’re a professional. But I’m not going to stand here and listen to you defend yourself to an asshole who doesn’t deserve you.”

“Wow.” Zara crossed her arms and tried to process Braden’s words, his angry tone. “Um...thanks.”

Unsure what to do next, Zara glanced around the room. “I guess I’ll just grab a blanket and pillow and lie down. I’m pretty beat.”

The strain of the evening had seriously taken its toll on her, and all she wanted to do was crawl on to her chaise and fall dead asleep. Okay, maybe that wasn’t all she wanted to do, but doing her boss was out of the question.

By the time she’d gotten situated on the chaise, she glanced to her bed where Braden sat on the edge staring in her direction.

“What?”

“Are you going to be comfortable? I didn’t expect to take your bed.”

Seeing him there, knowing her sheets would smell like him long after he was gone, was just another layer of arousal she didn’t need.

“I’m perfectly comfortable. You’re the one still in a suit.”

With a soft laugh, he shook his head. In moments, he had his jacket off and was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt.

“Uh, wait. Are you undressing? Because—”

“Zara.” His hands froze on the buttons. “I’m just taking my shirt off.”

Just taking his shirt off. To which he will no doubt expose a chest she’ll want to stare at. With the light from the gas fireplace and the candle on the nightstand, she could see perfectly fine.

And yup. He’d taken his black dress shirt off and revealed an amazingly sculpted chest, smattered with dark hair and...was that ink on his arm?

“You’re staring,” he said without looking up at her. “You’re going to make me blush.”

Zara laughed. “I highly doubt you blush, let alone over a woman looking at you.” Because why deny the fact she had been? She’d been caught, but she didn’t care. The man was worth a good, long stare. “Good night, Braden.”

* * *

Her damn floral scent mocked him as he lay on top of her plush comforter. With his hands laced behind his head, Braden stared up at the ceiling watching the orange flickering glow from the candle. He wouldn’t get any sleep tonight. Besides the fact he had every intention of getting back up to check out the house after Zara had gone to sleep, how the hell could he actually rest when the object of his desire was lying only feet away?

He hadn’t expected to actually want her with such a passion and fierceness. Damn it. He knew he’d been attracted, but he’d passed being attracted long ago. Now he had a need so deeply embedded within him, he was going to go mad if he didn’t have her.

Zara had been knockout gorgeous in that black dress and those sexy heels earlier at his party. But seeing her in such a simple, natural way, with hair up and sweats on, had Braden questioning why the hell he wasn’t coercing her into this giant bed. He could have her clothes off in record time, despite what she’d said about mixing business and pleasure. The allure was there—the chemistry was hot enough to scorch them.

But he had a mission. One that couldn’t be forgotten just because he’d been sidetracked by this unexpected quest for Zara. He needed to focus. Sex was one thing, a marvelous thing actually, but she’d put up a defensive wall. He was alone in the house he’d been wanting in for quite some time. So why the hell was he lying here focused on what was denied to him instead of formulating a plan of where he’d search once she was fully asleep?

Braden suppressed a groan as he rolled to his side. He needed to start this process, so he could be ready to get the hell out when the roads cleared.

The scrolls had to be in this house. They had to be; he refused to believe any different. But at the same time, he had to be realistic. His family had lost this house and everything in it during the Great Depression—a little fact Zara most likely didn’t know.

In the decades that had passed, who’s to say someone hadn’t found the scrolls, moved them to another location and kept the secret to themselves?

A gnawing pit formed in his stomach. What if someone had found them and thought they were trash?

No, the scrolls were supposedly rolled up in small tubes. Nine different tubes for the nine works. They were somewhere, and Braden wasn’t going to leave this house until he’d searched every inch of it.

He thought of the built-in bookcases in the living room he’d spotted earlier when he’d ran his phone light over the room. He’d tried to be casual about it, no reason to raise a red flag with Zara, because, as of right now, she was totally unsuspecting and completely worried about being alone with him.

Since she’d walked into his office for the job, he knew he wanted her in his bed. No reason he couldn’t enjoy a little recreational activity and search at the same time. Besides, getting Zara to open up to him may be the angle they’d needed all along, even if Ryker just wanted to break in and be done with it.

No way in hell was Ryker getting close to Zara. He was mysterious at best, terrifying at worst. And women loved that mysterious side. He had no intention of Zara being one of those women. Zara was all Braden’s...for now.

Braden knew full well what Ryker did for the family. Ever since Ryker had come to be friends with Braden and Mac in grade school, their father had taken Ryker in as another son. By the time they were out of high school, Ryker was just another member of the family. The Black Sheep was too benign a term when referring to the man who did all the dirty work.

Braden stared across to Zara and realized she was looking right back at him. This was ridiculous. They were adults acting like horny teens trying to get a mental feel for what the other one was thinking.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” he told her. “Do you need your bed back?”

The image of Zara in her bed wasn’t new. He didn’t need to say the words aloud to conjure up a vivid image. He’d already had her in bed several times in his mind.

“I can’t sleep.”

He knew a cure for insomnia.

“It’s too quiet,” she continued. “I usually sleep with a fan because I can’t handle the silence at night.”

Interesting. Braden bent his elbow and rested his head on his palm. “Are you afraid to stay here alone?”

“Not really. It’s just my old place was so much smaller, and this house has always had that creepy factor, you know? It’s old, it creaks and groans. Then there’s the rumor it’s haunted.” She laughed. “I guess when I’m alone with my thoughts, I let my imagination run wild.”

“It’s not unusual for these old homes to have some ghost story. They’re either based off some truth people believe, or they make for a good resale value for those seeking adventure.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not up for an adventure and I don’t believe in ghosts.”

Braden found he liked hearing her talk. He liked how soft her voice was, how it carried through the darkness and hit him straight with a shot of arousal. So he wanted to keep her talking.

“Since we both can’t sleep, why don’t you tell me the ghost story?”

He saw her lick her lips as she clutched the blanket near her chest. Thanks to the dim lighting, Braden found her even more alluring. Sleep wasn’t even a priority.

“It’s silly, actually. Apparently there was a young couple in love, and supposedly the man went off to the army and never returned. There are stories he died in the war, stories he fell in love with another. Who knows? She went on to marry, but the rumor is you can still hear her crying.”

Braden knew that story all too well. Considering this house had been in his family at the time Zara was referring to. And the woman was his great-great...several greats, grandmother. He’d always heard the story that the man who went to the army was actually her husband and he’d been killed. She’d remarried, had children but, supposedly, never got over her first love. A tragic story, a romantic one for those who were into that sort of thing...and his Irish family most definitely was.

“But, if I ever hear a woman crying in this house, it will take me one giant leap to get out of here,” Zara went on with a light laugh. “An intruder I can handle. A ghost, not so much. At least a real person I can shoot.”

The more she talked, the more Braden found he didn’t like her in this big house alone. But, if she had a firearm, at least she could defend herself.

What if Shane showed up? The man obviously called her drunk, and, on a good night with clear roads, what would stop him from just coming over, forcing his way in? And now that she worked for Braden, Shane would see that as a betrayal. The man was that egotistical and warped.

“But I’m not sure a woman would be crying over a man if she was married to another,” Zara went on as she shifted beneath her covers. “I mean, I can’t imagine loving one man, let alone falling in love twice. Or maybe she’d just married the second guy so she wasn’t lonely. I’ll never be that desperate.”

Braden thought to his parents. They’d been in love, they’d raised a family and they’d had a bond that Braden wanted to have someday. His mother passed when Braden had been a pre-teen, and the car accident that claimed her had an impact on the entire family. They became stronger, more unified than before because they realized just how short life was.

Not now, but one day he’d have a family of his own. First, though, he’d have those scrolls back in his family’s possession and steer his family right. He refused to bring a family into his life when there were enemies, people who used loved ones as a weakness to exploit.

“You’ve never been in love? Never knew people in love?” he asked, easing up to rest his back against the headboard.

“I’ve never seen love firsthand, no.” Zara turned onto her back, lacing her hands on top of the blanket. “My grandmother loved me and I loved her, but as far as a man and woman... I’m not sure true love exists. Have you been in love?”

Even though he’d removed everything but his pants, heat enveloped Braden. Granted, it could be because he was in the company of a woman he wanted more than his next breath, but honestly, the logs were doing a great job, and with the door closed, the thick air was starting to become too much.

“Would you mind if I turned the logs down a bit?” he asked.

“Nice way to dodge my question.” She jumped up from the chaise and threw him a smile. “I’ll turn them down. It is getting a bit warm in here.”

Braden watched her move across the room. In her black, body-hugging dress she’d been a knockout, but in her sweatshirt and leggings with her hair in a ponytail, she almost seemed...innocent, vulnerable.

Damn it, he didn’t want to see her that way. He didn’t want this to become personal with emotions getting in the way of his quest to get her in his bed and search for the scrolls.

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 (#ulink_9b8d9ab4-dafc-5616-a44d-13a89d7b8f7e)

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 return. 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.




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