Trapped with the Tycoon (11 page)

Zara swung her legs off the bed and headed toward the box. “Let’s see what this one has, and then we can discuss what I’ll be selling.”

Because the tender moment that had just happened couldn’t happen again—clearly it had left them both shaken. She needed to keep her wits about her and remember that she was still his employee, she was still needing this reputable job to keep her business going in the right direction, and she needed to forget how this man made her body tingle in ways she never knew possible...and how he was acting as if he truly cared.

Twelve

T
hey’d had a gourmet dinner of crackers, lunch meat, cheese and some fruit. Zara had grabbed a bottle of wine from the cellar, and now she sat on the chaise, legs stretched before her, her back against the side arm as she twirled the stem of her wineglass.

The poor kitten was going stir-crazy, so Zara had taken him for a walk through the house. Braden was already seeing their bond form, but he wasn’t about to call her on it. She’d realize soon enough.

As the kitten pounced on her shoe, Zara watched him. “Should we give him a name or something?”

“Does this mean you’re keeping him?”

Zara threw Braden a look. “I didn’t say that. I just feel like he should be called something other than
Cat
.”

Braden laughed. “Admit it, you like him.”

“I’ll call him Jack while he’s here,” she decided.

“Jack?”

Zara nodded. “Jack Frost.”

Braden smiled at the perfect name. “Jack it is.”

Zara didn’t want to make commitments, didn’t want to have to worry about anyone else but herself, and Braden understood her reasons. But at some point she’d have to put herself out there, even if it was with a cat. She was going to be one lonely person if she kept herself so distanced. He wouldn’t know what he’d do without his family.

“So, what’s it like having siblings?” she asked, staring into her glass...her fourth glass if he was counting correctly. “Being an only child sucked sometimes.”

Braden shifted his back against the side of the bed, brought his knee up and reached out to pet Jack as he came over and slid against Zara’s leg. Braden had stopped at three glasses of wine. He was a big guy, so he wasn’t feeling anything, and one of them had to keep their wits about them. Apparently that responsibility fell to him.

“We had our moments,” he admitted. “Laney is the baby, and she gets a bit angry when Mac and I look out for her. She’s determined, stubborn, always putting others first, even at the sacrifice of her own happiness.” He narrowed his gaze, which he knew she could see since they had lit candles and she was only a few feet away, staring right at him. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Zara took a sip of wine. “I prefer career driven.”

Braden laughed as went on. “Mac and I tend to get along now, but when we were younger we pretty much caused havoc in the house. Mom passed when I was ten, Mac was seven and Laney was only four. That was about the time Ryker started coming around, too.”

Propping her elbow on the arm of the chaise, Zara rested her head in her hand and settled the base of the wineglass in front of her, still holding on to the rim with those delicate fingers. “You speak of him quite a bit. You all are really close. I can hear the affection in your tone when you talk of your family.”

When she discussed her parents, all that had laced her tone was disdain. The only love he heard from her was when she told stories of her grandmother.

“We’ve always been a close family. My parents were adamant about that. We may fight, yell, even throw a few punches, but when it comes down to it, I know my family always has my back, and they know I always have theirs.”

Zara smiled. “Unconditional love.” She drained the rest of her glass, then sat it on the small accent table on the other side of the arm. “I bet when you all were younger you had snowball fights in weather like this.”

Braden nodded, his hand stilled on the kitten’s back as he replayed one particular day. “My brother, Mac, has a scar running through his brow as a souvenir from one of our snowball fights.”

Zara’s eyes widened. “He got cut from snow?”

“He got cut because our sister threw a snowball that had a rock in it. She’s a lot stronger than she looks, but she had no idea about the rock. Trust me, she felt awful, and Mac played on her guilt for years.”

She made a soft noise of acknowledgment, nearly a tender tone that had him almost hating how he was reliving these memories when she didn’t have too many happy ones. But she wanted to hear them, and he actually enjoyed sharing stories of his family...so long as people didn’t start butting into the family business and asking unnecessary questions.

“I bet you all had a big Christmas tree, family vacations, huge birthday parties.”

“Yes to all of that,” he confirmed. “The downfall of the siblings, when you’re a kid, no matter what you got for a present, you had to share. I never liked that rule. When something belongs to me, it’s mine for good.”

Zara’s lids lowered a touch, from the alcohol or from the double meaning she’d taken from his words. Had he subconsciously said that just for her benefit? Maybe, maybe not, but he wasn’t sorry now that the words were out.

“This morning, when we...you know...”

“Had sex,” he finished when she trailed off. He had no clue where she was going with this, but he knew exactly what topic she was dancing around when she couldn’t even say the words.

“Yes. I didn’t handle that very well.” Her fingertip toyed with the binding running along the outer cushion; her eyes remained fixed on his, though, which only made her sexier, to realize that she wasn’t afraid to face this head-on.

“I don’t know,” he amended. “I think you handled the sex perfectly.”

A flirty smile spread across her lips. “I meant afterward. I’m not used to such a giving lover. I didn’t know how to react, and with you being my boss, I thought it was easiest to just ignore everything and try to pretend we were on the same level playing field as before we stripped out of our clothes.”

Braden didn’t say a word. The wine was apparently making her more chatty than usual, and now that she was discussing the proverbial elephant in the room, he wanted to know what she had to say.

“I guess I should’ve said thank you,” she added quickly. “Circumstances have us here together, and you could’ve been selfish, you could’ve totally ignored me after, but you didn’t. You were...”

“If you say nice I’m going to be angry.”

“Sweet.”

Braden groaned. “I would’ve rather been nice.”

He eyed her for another minute, more than aware of the crackling tension that had just been amped up in the past two minutes.

“I’m trying to thank you,” she went on, talking louder to drown out his mumble. “It’s refreshing to know there are guys like you out there.”

Guys like him? He wanted to laugh, he wanted to confess just how ruthless he truly was and he wanted her to never look for a man like him in the future. Yes, he’d been caring in bed; yes, he’d rescued a cat. Those were qualities any man should possess. Braden didn’t go above and beyond. For one thing, her pleasure brought him pleasure. Call it primal, territorial, whatever. When Zara had been turned on, that made him all chest-bumping, ego-inflated happy because he’d caused her arousal, her excitement.

“Does that mean you’re looking for a guy who will treat you right, and you’re done with the asshats you’ve been dating?” he asked.

“Maybe it means I want you to show me again how a woman should be treated.”

Braden froze. The bold statement slammed into him. Nothing much could catch him off guard, but this woman kept him on his toes.

“Your wine is talking,” he stated, attempting to blow it off, give her an out in case she hadn’t meant to say that aloud.

“Maybe so,” she admitted. “Or I’m just saying what I’ve been thinking all day. Every time I’d look at you or accidentally touch you, I’d think back to how amazing this morning was. Even though a relationship would be a huge mistake, I’m finding it rather difficult to stay over here while you’re in my bed.”

Had the heat cranked up more in here? Braden was sweating after that speech she just delivered.

Zara stretched out even more on the chaise and rolled on to her back, staring up at the ceiling as she continued to talk. “Wanting you isn’t new, though. You know what you look like. I’m sure women throw themselves at you all the time. I don’t want to be that typical, predictable woman.”

“Baby, you’re anything but typical and predictable.”

Her soft laugh wrapped him in warmth. “I’ll take that as a compliment and I like when you call me baby. But I meant that I wanted you when I first saw you, but this job had to take precedence and I refused to be so trite as to hit on my boss.”

Oh, he would’ve loved had she come into his office that first day and had her way with him. Before his fantasy carried him away too much, Braden concentrated on her as she continued.

“Then I was mortified you had to see that whole incident with Shane, but when you and I were dancing, I wasn’t thinking about Shane. I was thinking how great you smelled, powerful and manly.”

Braden smiled into the dim light. She would be so embarrassed tomorrow when she woke and realized all she’d verbally spewed out tonight. But there was no way in hell he was stopping her.

“Now that you’re stuck here, all I can think about is how amazing this morning was and how I’m going to lie here tonight and replay it in my mind.”

Braden came to his knees and slowly closed the space between them. He laid a hand across her abdomen, startling her as she jerked to stare him in the eyes. Their faces were inches apart, so close he could ease forward just a touch and have that mouth beneath his in seconds. From this closer vantage point, he could see the slight flush in her cheeks from the wine, the moist lips where she’d licked them from being nervous, the pulse point at the base of her neck.

“Who said you had to lie here and replay it?” he asked, easing his hand beneath her shirt. His palm flattened out on her stomach, and the quivering beneath his touch only added to his desire for her. “Maybe that bed was lonely last night. Maybe I got sick of rolling over and inhaling your jasmine scent. Maybe I was awake all night wondering when you’d come to your senses and join me.”

Zara lifted her arms, her hands resting on either side of her face. The innocent move, or maybe not-so-innocent, arched her back and pressed her breasts up.

“I couldn’t join you, Braden. I don’t have a good track record with men, not that I’m looking for one right now, and I couldn’t risk my job no matter how much I wanted you. Besides, I would’ve died had you rejected me.”

That right there was the crux of her issue. Rejection. She’d been rejected by so many people. Well, maybe not so many in quantity, but definitely all of the important people, save for her grandmother. She feared rejection, and here he was using her. Taking advantage of a vulnerable woman was a straight ticket to hell.

“I wouldn’t have rejected you,” he murmured. “I was battling myself back at my party because I just wanted to drag you into a room, a closet, anywhere that we could be alone, and I could show you how much I wanted you.”

He trailed his fingertips over her heated skin, earning him a swift intake of breath as her eyes drifted closed. “That wouldn’t have looked very good for my reputation,” she muttered. “I’m a professional and I can’t afford for people to think I slept with you to get the job.”

“Nobody will think that,” he assured her. He’d make damn sure she had more jobs lined up than she could handle. He’d make sure she could choose the ones she wanted and didn’t have to worry about taking them all.

“Keep touching me, Braden.” Her voice, a throaty whisper, washed over him. “Your touch feels so good.”

She was killing him. Those soft moans, her body all laid out on display. He’d told her he wasn’t a nice guy and he was primed and ready to snap and take what she was blatantly offering. But he wouldn’t want anyone else treating Zara disrespectfully. She deserved better than a man who couldn’t control his hormones and took advantage of the fact she loved wine and couldn’t hold it like the rest of his Irish family.

“Zara.” He stilled his hand to get her attention, to let her know he couldn’t take her to bed. But her soft snore greeted him. Braden sat back on his heels, kept his hand on her stomach and simply stared.

When was the last time she’d fully let go and relaxed? Did she trust anyone in her life on a personal level, or were all of her acquaintances the closest things she had to family and friends? Dating men who were users, jerks and not looking for commitment was a surefire way to keep yourself closed off from the world. Zara was excelling at being a loner. The irony wasn’t lost on him that she planned parties and lavish bashes for people to mingle, socialize and enjoy the company of others, yet she refused to put herself in a position to enjoy anyone.

From the investigating he’d done before hiring her officially, he’d learned she’d had a small apartment in Boston, mostly kept to herself and rarely dated. She threw herself into her work, and it showed, but wasn’t there more to life?

Braden snorted. Yeah, there was, and he was going to find it as soon as his family business was a bit more secure in a new territory.

As he watched her sleep, something shifted inside him. He didn’t want that damn shift. He didn’t want to care so much about Zara, about her loveless childhood and how it molded her into the fierce woman she was today.

All Braden wanted to do was wake her up, take her to bed and make love to her all night. Then he wanted to get home tomorrow and show Mac that tube so they could figure out how the hell to proceed from here.

Yet none of that was going to happen, so here he sat staring at the most complex, beautiful woman he’d ever known. Parts of her reminded Braden of his sister. He hadn’t been feeding Zara a line of bull earlier when he’d said that, either. But Laney had something Zara didn’t, and that was the strength and backing of a family.

It bothered him more than it should that Zara had nobody. He’d been fully aware of her living situation and family life before he’d hired her. He’d made a point to know exactly who Zara Perkins was so he could come at her the right way, the way that would ensure she trust him, work for him and allow him access into her home.

Granted, he hadn’t planned on a snowstorm, but he wasn’t looking a gift horse, or Mother Nature, in the mouth.

Braden sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He should rest, he should get back up and start searching. But he didn’t want to do any of that. Not when Zara’s body felt so warm beneath his palm, not when she was sleeping so peacefully and beautifully.