and Braden could go home. Then this would all be a memory, and they would move on with their working relationship. Because that’s what they should do, right? He had another party coming up in a few months, and since she’d been hired as the O’Sheas’ permanent events coordinator, she had to keep her mind focused on her career.
“I’ll hold the light,” he told her. “Let’s get these logs on.”
After the logs were on and heat started filling the room, then they went in search of more flashlights, and Zara grabbed her cell. She had almost a full battery and she hoped it held out until the electricity came back on. If need be, she could always charge it in his car if the electricity stayed off too long.
Unfortunately, the snow was still coming down just as fierce as it had been, and with the roads being a hazard, Zara had no doubt it would be a while before crews could work on the lines.
Mother Nature clearly had it out for her. First the roads, now the electricity. Throw in some darkness and watch that sexual tension skyrocket and blow their clothes off.
Zara cringed. No. The clothes had to stay on. They were her only shield of defense because she’d already imagined her boss naked, and if he actually took that suit off, she would not be responsible for her actions.
Once back in her bedroom, Braden closed the door to keep the heat in. Zara had lit a candle and sat it on her nightstand. The flickering, warm glow sent the room to a level of romance that had no business being here.
And then the fact that she was still wearing her black dress hit her. Great. So much for keeping all the clothes on.
“Um, I’m going to have to change.” She hated how her tone sounded apologetic. This was her house, damn it. “I don’t have anything to offer you unless you can fit in a pair of small sweatpants and one of my T-shirts.”
“I’ll be fine. Go, get out of that dress.”
Those words combined with that sexy tone of his had her sighing. He’d promised not to mention sex, but the man practically oozed it with every action, every word.
“Can you wait in the hall for a second?” she asked.
Taking his own flashlight, Braden stepped out and closed the door behind him.
Zara quickly shoved her bras into her drawer and whipped her snug dress over her head. She peeled off her stockings and tossed them into a drawer, too. She really wanted to lose the bra, but she couldn’t get that comfortable with her sexy guest.
As she pulled on a pair of leggings and an oversize sweatshirt, Zara truly wished she’d met Braden under different circumstances. Maybe then they could explore this attraction, but she couldn’t risk intimacy when she needed this job, this recognition too much. She’d only had her grandmother, and now she was gone. There was no husband, no other family to fall back on if her financial world crumbled. Her company was only a year old, and being tied to the O’Sheas would launch her into a new territory of clientele.
Yes, the rumors of O’Shea’s Auction House being the front for illegal activity had been abuzz for years—decades, even—but the mystery surrounding the family only kept people more intrigued, so Zara would gladly ride the coattails of their popularity.
After sliding on a pair of fuzzy socks and pulling her hair into a ponytail, Zara opened the door. Braden was texting but glanced up at her and slid his phone back into his pocket.
“I had to check in with the security team. I try to keep them updated on my whereabouts.”
“Oh, you don’t have to explain yourself.”
“You look...different.”
With a shrug, Zara glanced down to her outfit. “This is me in my downtime. I’m pretty laid-back.”
Why did the room seem so much smaller when he came back in from the hallway? Why did he have such a presence about him that demanded attention? And how the hell did she act? What was the proper protocol for bringing your billionaire boss to your house and then having him spend the night? Milk and cookies? Bourbon and a cigar? She honestly didn’t know the man on a personal level.
Zara’s cell vibrated on her dresser. With the screen facing down, she didn’t see the caller before she picked it up and automatically slid her finger over the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”
“Shane.”
Zara’s eyes darted to Braden. In the dim light she could see his narrowed gaze, his jaw clenched.
“I know I acted like a jerk earlier, but I want another chance with you and I was worried about you getting home in this storm.”
Were his words slurring?
“Shane, it’s nearly one in the morning. Are you drunk?”
He must’ve shifted, because there was the slightest bit of static coming through the phone before he continued. “I miss you, Zara.”
She turned her back to Braden and rubbed her forehead. “I got home safe. Thanks for checking, but we really are over, Shane. Good night.”
“Don’t hang up.” Now his voice rose, as if the real Shane was emerging. “You’re selfish, you know that? I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re already dismissing me. We were good together, you know it.”
“No, we weren’t, and I’m done with—”
Suddenly the phone was ripped from her hand. Zara whirled around as Braden hit the end button and then turned the phone off.
“You won’t explain yourself to him.”
Zara sighed. Damn it, why did he have to be right? “He’s not been this persistent until the past week or so. I’m not sure why he wants to get back together so bad, but I swear he won’t affect my work with you.”
Braden closed the gap between them and stared down at her. The darkness slashing over half his face made him seem even more menacing, more intriguing.
“I don’t give a damn about that. I know you’re a professional. But I’m not going to stand here and listen to you defend yourself to an asshole who doesn’t deserve you.”
“Wow.” Zara crossed her arms and tried to process Braden’s words, his angry tone. “Um...thanks.”
Unsure what to do next, Zara glanced around the room. “I guess I’ll just grab a blanket and pillow and lie down. I’m pretty beat.”
The strain of the evening had seriously taken its toll on her, and all she wanted to do was crawl on to her chaise and fall dead asleep. Okay, maybe that wasn’t all she wanted to do, but doing her boss was out of the question.
By the time she’d gotten situated on the chaise, she glanced to her bed where Braden sat on the edge staring in her direction.
“What?”
“Are you going to be comfortable? I didn’t expect to take your bed.”
Seeing him there, knowing her sheets would smell like him long after he was gone, was just another layer of arousal she didn’t need.
“I’m perfectly comfortable. You’re the one still in a suit.”
With a soft laugh, he shook his head. In moments, he had his jacket off and was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt.
“Uh, wait. Are you undressing? Because—”
“Zara.” His hands froze on the buttons. “I’m just taking my shirt off.”
Just taking his shirt off. To which he will no doubt expose a chest she’ll want to stare at. With the light from the gas fireplace and the candle on the nightstand, she could see perfectly fine.
And yup. He’d taken his black dress shirt off and revealed an amazingly sculpted chest, smattered