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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.
For once, he wasn’t thinking work or how to get those coveted scrolls. No, for once Braden O’Shea was soaking in all of the goodness from another, hoping it would somehow rub off on him and make him not so much of a bastard. Because if Zara ever found out what he’d done, she’d hate him forever.
And that chilling thought scared the hell out of him.
Thirteen
Zara rolled over onto her side, coming to rest against a warm leg just as her arm crossed over a taut chest. She stilled, blinking into the darkness. No candles were burning, but the soft glow from the logs helped her get her bearings. She wasn’t on the chaise where she’d been drinking her wine.
Wine. Zara froze. She’d gotten pretty chatty if she recalled correctly, but thankfully she was still dressed. So nothing had happened between Braden and her, but she was lying in bed beside him. Had he put her here?
Zara slowly started easing back to her side instead of crawling all over her temporary roommate.
“And here I thought you wanted to touch me.”
Braden’s thick tone filled the room.
“I didn’t mean to... I had no idea we were...that you were...”
Lightning fast, Braden grabbed her arm and held her still. “Don’t move. I put you here because I want you here.”
Zara had to admit being in her own bed with her feather-down duvet was like heaven. Okay, fine, she loved being next to this man, knowing that he carried her and put her in bed, then climbed in beside her. What woman wouldn’t get all giddy over that fact?
“Did I ask you to have sex with me again?” Mercy, the fact she had to even ask that question was even more embarrassing than the actual question.
“You implied you were willing.”
Pathetic, party of one?
“Which just proves my theory that you’re a nice guy.”
In an instant, Braden had her on her back, her hands above her head, the entire length of his body on hers. “Do you feel light-headed at all? Headache? Dizziness?”
Breathless from their current state, Zara shook her head. “Why?”
“Because I’m about to strip you and take you up on that offer now. I want you to be fully aware of what I’m doing to you.”
His lips captured hers before she could even comprehend what he was saying, but words were moot at this point. The fierce kiss, the tilt of his hips against hers and the way he gripped her wrists above her head were all very telling signs as to what he wanted. Added to that, her body had lit up from within, and she wanted everything he was willing to give her. She wasn’t denying herself, not now, not with Braden.
He was right. She dated jerks. She did so to keep a distance and not form any relationship. So why shouldn’t she sleep with a man who was considerate, obviously wanted her and wasn’t asking for any type of commitment?
Oh, right. He was her boss. Well, at the moment, her boss was removing her pants and panties right along with them. Even as Zara’s mind told her to put a stop to this, her body shifted so he could continue ridding her of the unwanted clothes.
She kicked the pants off her ankles and groaned when Braden placed open-mouth kisses on her stomach. She threaded her hands through his hair. She’d already slept with him once; stopping now wouldn’t change what had already happened. And Braden’s promise of stripping her down was already proving to be amazing because he currently had his teeth on the hem of her shirt, sliding it up her torso.
When the material bunched at her breasts, she tried to pull her hands free to help.
“I’ve got this,” he whispered. “Your only job is to relax and let me work.”
Who was she to argue? He was her boss, after all.
He eased back enough to jerk the shirt over her head and toss it to the floor.
