Trapped With The Tycoon. Jules Bennett
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“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