Trapped with the Tycoon (7 page)

Seven

Z
ara gripped the neck of her sweatshirt as she came down the wide staircase. Trying to hold it up just a bit more to ward off the chill helped.

Eerie quiet settled throughout the house. Who knew darkness had a tone? She could hear Braden’s breathing, his every step, every brush of his clothing. Every single thing he did made her even more aware of his presence.

What the hell had she been thinking kissing him back like that? Straddling his lap and practically crawling all over his body? Part of her was mortified she’d acted like that, but on the other hand, he’d been right there with her. He’d been the one to instigate every heated occurrence. But no more. If he touched her, she’d have to walk away. Even if she had to step out into the cold hall or bundle up and sleep in a chilly spare bedroom, she couldn’t let him kiss her again.

Because she feared the next kiss would lead to clothes falling off and them tumbling into bed.

With the mid-morning sun shining in the windows, enough light filtered through to make this encounter not seem so intimate.

She led him to the den and eased the door open. “This room was never used by my grandmother. She usually just put books in here. I think I’m the only one who ever came in here, and that was just because I wanted to get to the secret passageway. As a kid, that was the coolest thing in the world to me.”

“Did you ever have friends over?” he asked as he stepped into the room with her. “This house would’ve made the greatest backdrop for hide-and-seek.”

“I had a few friends sleep over,” she admitted. “Looking back now, I only brought friends here. My parents wouldn’t have gone for me inviting them to our house. They were always going to some party, throwing a party or worried about their next travel venture.”

Braden loathed her parents. Why bring a child into this world if you didn’t intend on caring for said child? He admitted he wanted kids, when the time was right. Having them now would be ridiculous because he didn’t have the time to devote to them. And children needed structure, needed family and a bond that provided security.

Zara was a strong woman, but he could see the vulnerability, the brokenness of her childhood still affecting her today.

Stepping around him, she pulled the flashlight from beneath her arm. “Follow me.”

One of the built-in bookcases had a small latch. Zara jerked once, twice, and finally the hinges creaked open. As she flicked on the light and angled the beam into the darkness, Braden’s heart kicked up. He desperately wanted to find what he came for, though realistically he figured things wouldn’t be that easy.

The kitten purred against Braden’s chest. He’d never owned a cat, but he loved animals. His sister would be so happy to take in another stray. She was the proverbial cat lady, though she’d never own up to the term. Laney would take this kitten in with a squeal of delight. He could already envision her snuggling the thing.

Braden stepped into the narrow hallway behind Zara. “Don’t worry if that door closes behind you. We can’t get trapped in here. I guess whoever owned this before my grandmother had a latch installed on both ends of the tunnel. My guess is someone got locked in, so they learned their lesson.”

Locked in a dark place with Zara...not too far off the mark of how they’d spent last night. And not a bad predicament to be in.

The kitten perked up at Zara’s voice and leaped out of Braden’s arms. The little thing moved so fast, Braden worried he’d hurt himself, but when the kitten slid against Zara’s ankles, he figured the animal was just fine.

Zara’s flashlight held steady on the stray. “What is he doing?”

With a laugh, Braden continued to watch the cat seeking affection. “Looks like he wants to be friends.”

“I have enough friends,” she muttered and tried to take a step. When she tripped over the kitten, Braden held out a hand to steady her. “Will she stop trying to be an ankle bracelet anytime soon?”

“If you pick her up,” Braden stated. “Cats have a tendency to cling to one person. You may be the chosen one.”

With the light casting enough of a glow, Braden saw her eyes widen. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Reluctantly, Zara plucked up the kitten, held her in a bit of an awkward way, but the little fur ball didn’t seem to mind. Braden felt it best not to mention the obvious that the cat seemed to love Zara. Best move on to the point of this tour.

“Is this just a hallway?” he asked, trying to look on the walls for any compartments or doors...hell, anything that would be a clue as to where he could search.

“It opens up into a little room before letting you out into the kitchen.”

Zara let out a grunt, the flashlight bobbed and Braden used his free arm to reach out as she tumbled forward. His arm banded around her waist, his hand connected with her breast as he supported her from falling. Thankfully the kitten was snuggled tight, and Zara had a good grip on the oblivious little thing.

When Zara fell back against him, he didn’t relinquish his hold. How could he when she felt too perfect with her body flush against his?

“Thanks,” she whispered. “I forgot there’s a bit of a dip in the floor right there.”

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, her hair tickling the side of his face. “Um...you can let me go.”

Her body arched, betraying her words. He couldn’t stop himself. His thumb slid back and forth across her breast before he reluctantly released her. He wanted her aching for him, for his touch. If he kept pushing, she’d completely close off, and he’d look like more of a jerk that what he was. But keeping her body on high alert, having her wonder about what would happen next between them would inevitably have her in his bed. Well, technically her bed.

She said nothing as she continued on, slower this time. Finally they came to the room she’d mentioned, which wasn’t more than a walk-in closet in size. Her light darted around, and she gasped. His eyes followed the beam and landed on a little yellow chair; a book lay open, cover up to hold the page. Zara turned and handed him the kitten.

“I used to sneak in here to read.” She moved forward and picked up the book, flipping it over in her hand. With a laugh, she laid it back down. “This was one of my favorites.”

Braden crossed the space and glanced down to the book. He couldn’t see the title, but the embracing couple on the cover told him all he needed to know.

“You read romance as a kid?”

“I was a teenager and curious,” she said. Even in the dim light he could see her chin pop up a notch. “Maybe I wanted to know what all that love stuff was about, because when I was sixteen I thought I’d found love. Turns out I found a guy who’d made a bet with his buddies on who would take my virginity.”

That entire statement told him more about her than she’d ever willingly reveal. She was bitter, she’d been used. She was raised by parents who were never affectionate, and other than her grandmother, she didn’t have anyone she could depend on in her life.

Coming from a large Irish family, Braden had no clue what that felt like. Granted he’d never fallen in love, but he believed it existed. He’d witnessed it firsthand from his parents. While he’d had so many levels of love, Zara had emptiness.

“So you would sneak in here and read dirty books?” he asked.

“They weren’t dirty. They were sweet, and now that I know how life really is, I see why they’re labeled as fiction.”

Yeah. Definitely bitter.

He scanned the rest of the area. There were a few empty shelves along one wall, a door on the other and absolutely nothing of use for him in here. Except for the bundles of information he’d just gathered on Zara.

“That concludes the tour,” she stated. “Not as exciting as you thought, right?”

Braden shifted the kitten to his other arm, careful not to wake him. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I got to cop a feel. I wouldn’t call this venture a total loss.”

For a second she said nothing, then she reached out and smacked his shoulder. “You’re a smart-ass.”

Braden wanted to see that smile she offered. He craved it. Knowing he pulled her from those past thoughts with his snarky comment and put her in the here and now with a laugh was exactly his intent.

“Why don’t you show me the other hidden rooms, and I’ll see what other smooth moves I can come up with?” he suggested, which earned him a light right to the face. Squinting, he shielded his eyes with his free hand. “All right, I promise to be on my best behavior.”

Turning away, Zara pushed open the door to the kitchen. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she muttered.

* * *

Nothing. He’d not found a damn thing that indicated where the scrolls were. He didn’t even know if they were all together at this point. At one time there were nine, stored in the infamous trunk that now sat in his office as if to mock him on a daily basis. They could be long gone, but Braden refused to give into that line of thinking, because if they were gone, he had absolutely nowhere to look. They had to be here.

Before they’d headed back up to the bedroom, Zara had stepped out the back door and plucked some cheese and fruit out of the snow. She pulled a loaf of bread from the cabinet and got a few bottles of water.

Now they were sitting in the floor in front of the fire having a gourmet lunch while the kitten roamed around the room. Occasionally he would come back, rub against Zara as if to make sure she was still there, then he’d roam a little more.

“Is he going to pee on my things?” she asked, popping a grape into her mouth.

Braden shrugged. “Maybe, but I found a box in your kitchen and brought it up. Put a towel or something over there and he’ll be very happy. Cats love boxes.”

“Really?”

Nodding, he tore off another hunk of cheese. “Trust me on this. Granted, he’s still a kitten, so he’ll stick close to us, or you as the case may be, but once he gets comfortable here, that box will be his new home.”

Zara stared as the kitten snuck beneath her bed. “I’d rather he find a new home.”

“Aww, now don’t be like that with your new best friend.”

By the time they’d devoured the assortment, Zara leaned back and stretched her arms high above her head, pulling her sweatshirt up just enough to draw his gaze down to her creamy skin and the slight roll over the band of her pants.

“I wish the electricity would come back on,” she stated, dropping her arms, oblivious to the knots in his gut. “I have so much work to do. My laptop may only have a couple hours left of charge.”

“What are you working on?”

“I have an event scheduled for a client in four weeks. I need to adjust some things on the spreadsheets and set up another schedule for an event I’m working on for a bridal party.” Zara started picking up the garbage and bundling it all in the empty bread sack. “Plenty of work to do with no Wi-Fi, but I’m going to get backed up if I can’t get some emails done in the next few days.”

Braden listened to her talk of the event scheduled a week before his next party. Zara was efficient, and the passion for her work came through in her tone. She definitely was career driven, but was that all there was to her life? He’d not heard her mention friends and he knew there was no boyfriend. He’d never met a woman who remained so closed off on a personal level.

“Why don’t you work?” he suggested. “I’m going to head to my car, charge my phone and turn it on to make some calls.”

He needed to check in with Ryker to see if he’d located the missing art piece in London. Then he needed to see if Mac was stuck at the main house, most likely since Mac’s flight back to Miami would’ve been canceled with this weather. Braden would have to call his sister, too, because...well, he worried about her even though she hated her older brothers fussing over her.

Hopping to her feet, Zara nodded. “Yeah. I need to do something. I’m not one to sit still and do nothing. After I draft my emails I’m grabbing a shower.”

“With cold water?” he asked.

She smiled down at him. “I have a gas hot water heater.”

His eyes raked over her body, and the very last thing he needed was an image of her naked, soapy and wet body with only a thin door separating them.

Rising to stand before her, he took the trash from her hands and headed for the bedroom door. “I’ll be in my car for a while. I’ll throw this away on my way out.”

He left the room before he would give into temptation and join her in the shower. He needed to let Mac know that, so far, nothing had turned up. This house was damn big, but the secret hidey-holes were literally bare, save for the yellow chair and romance novel.

After throwing away the trash and bundling up, Braden tried to get through the mounds of snow to his car. There was no way to get there without soaking his feet once again because the snow was up to his knees; but he needed to check in, and once the engine warmed up, he could put the heater on full blast.

Most likely his battery would’ve been fine to talk inside the warm house, but he couldn’t risk Zara overhearing his conversations.

Powering up his phone as he slid behind the wheel and tried to ignore his freezing wet feet, Braden watched as seven texts popped up on his screen. Mac had sent two, and the other five were from a frantic Laney asking if he was all right.

He decided to call her first because an angry woman, especially an angry Irish woman who happened to be his sister, was not someone he wanted on his bad side.

“You better be in a ditch with little cell service,” she answered.

Braden laughed. “Not quite in a ditch, but I’m stuck at a friend’s house and the electricity is out.”

“What friend?” she asked, skepticism dripping from her voice.

“You don’t know her.”

“Her? So you’re shacking up and can’t return my texts? I had you lying in a ditch bleeding and with the roads closed, and no one saw you and you’d died all alone.”

Braden pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I assure you, I’m fine, and I’m not shacking up. To be honest, I’d feel better if I was.”

Laney laughed. “Whoever she is, I want to meet her. Someone has you in knots. I like her already.”

He wasn’t in knots. Really, he was completely knot free and in total control. Just because he’d had to physically remove himself from the house since Zara was going to shower didn’t mean he couldn’t keep his wits about him.