Trapped with the Tycoon Read Free

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 needs to go...”
    Mac nodded. “I’ll let Ryker know.”
    Ryker. The O’Sheas’ right-hand man, who may as well have been born into the family. Instead, he’d been unofficially adopted as a rebellious preteen, and he’d been with them since.
    But damn it, Braden didn’t want blood on his hands. He wanted to concentrate on retrieving the heirlooms and relics their auction house was officially known for. They had an elite list of clients, and word of mouth always brought more on board. The timeless pieces the O’Sheas uncovered all over the world kept their business thriving. Several pieces were “discovered” by less-than-legal means, but they were paid hefty sums to be discreet. Smuggling in items with legal loads for big auctions was easy to do.
    “I think your approach to Zara isn’t the smartest.” Mac sipped his bourbon. “You’re coming on too strong and not focusing.”
    Braden narrowed his gaze. “That’s a pretty bold statement coming from the man who has a woman in every major city.”
    Mac eyed him over the glass. “We’re not talking about me. Unless you’d like me to seduce the beautiful party planner.”
    “Keep your damn hands off her.”
    Why was he suddenly so territorial? Braden had no claims on Zara.
    But he’d held her, felt her against him and seen a thread of vulnerability when Zara had been looking at Shane. He refused to see any woman harassed or mistreated.
    His sister, Laney, was currently dating some schmuck, who could be demeaning at times. Yet another issue Braden would deal with now that he was in charge. No way in hell would he allow his baby sister to be belittled by anyone. Ever.
    “Leave Zara to me, and you concentrate on your new locations,” Braden told his brother. “Is that all you needed?”
    Mac finished off his drink, setting his tumbler down on the desk. “For now. I’ll keep an eye on Shane. Ryker will be a last resort. I know you want to move in a different direction, but Shane can’t interfere. We’re too close to