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Those unpacked boxes held so much potential, but how many were hers and how many were already here for years?
Using his flashlight to head back to the bedroom, Braden flicked it off as soon as he reached the doorway. The second he stepped inside, warmth surrounded him. Zara lay on her side, her hand tucked beneath her cheek, her ponytail now in disarray as hair draped over her forehead and down the side of her face.
Slipping back out of his shirt, he sat on the edge of the bed, unable to take his eyes off the sleeping beauty. He had tried to keep his hands off her. Okay, he could’ve tried harder, but damn it, something about her made him want to get closer to her in the most primal way possible.
He knew she was a sexy, take-charge woman. The fact she was a businesswoman, career-driven and independent, was a definite turn-on. But after dancing with her and seeing that flash of vulnerability in her eyes when Shane had entered the picture, Braden felt even more territorial...and not in the typical employee/employer way. There was no way he could not step into her life.
Braden slid between the sheets and refused to acknowledge the arousal threatening to keep him awake. He needed sleep because when morning came, he fully intended to continue his quest for the scrolls, and he sure as hell planned on more seducing. Multitasking had never been this sweet.
Five
Zara stared at her cabinets and sighed. Was it appropriate to offer your millionaire boss a s’mores Pop-Tart or a cherry one for breakfast? Because that was the extent of her options. Well, she had other flavors because she was a junk-food junkie, and Pop-Tarts were her drug of choice.
He’d still been asleep when she’d slipped from the warm room. Now she stood shivering in her kitchen and wondering when the electricity would be restored. The snow was still coming down in big, fat flakes, and there was no sign of any cars in sight.
Grabbing three different varieties of breakfast pastries, Zara spun on her fuzzy socks and raced back up the steps. Mercy, it had gotten cold in here. When she eased open the door, Braden was shifting around on her bed, sheets slipping down a bit. His glorious chest looked even better with daylight streaking through the window. Granted, it had also looked spectacular on display with the fire flickering last night.
With boxes of food under one arm, she gently closed the door behind her, but Braden’s eyes instantly popped open and zeroed in on her. Suddenly she was pinned in place. That piercing gaze penetrated her across the room. Such a potent man to be able to hold such power over someone without even saying a word.
Slowly, he sat up. The sheet fell to his waist, giving up an even more tantalizing view of all that tan skin with dark hair covering his chest. Dark ink curved over one shoulder, and Zara found herself wanting to trace the lines of that tat. With her tongue.
Down, girl.
“Breakfast,” she said. “I hope you like Pop-Tarts.”
His brows drew in. “I can honestly say I’ve never had one.”
Of course he hadn’t. Not only was he a bajillionaire, he had the body of a sculpted god. Someone who looked like that wouldn’t fill themselves with the finer junkie things in life.
“Well, you’re in for a treat.” She crossed the room, trying to ignore the fact that she looked like a hot mess after last night. “I’m a connoisseur of all things unhealthy and amazingly tasty.”
She sat the boxes on the trunk at the end of her bed and opened each one. She tried to focus on anything other than the fact he still hadn’t reached for his shirt. Was he going to spend their entire time half naked? So this is what the saying “both a blessing and a curse” meant.
“I have s’mores, cherry and chocolate.” She glanced back up as he slid from the bed and came to stand beside her. “Take whatever you want. I have plenty more downstairs.”
He eyed the boxes as if he truly had no clue what to choose. “I’m a chocolate lover, so the cherry is out. Should I go all in for the s’mores?”
Zara smiled. “They’re the best, in my opinion.”
She handed him a foil package and grabbed one for herself before heading over to stand near the logs. She needed to keep a bit of distance, because if the shirtless thing wasn’t enough to make her want a replay of last night, the fact that he had sheet marks—her sheets—on his arm and face and he smelled musky and sexy was more than enough to have her near begging. And Zara wouldn’t beg for any man, especially one who wrote her checks.
