“I’ll keep you posted, but Braden was busy at some event with Zara and they couldn’t be bothered, so I had to act fast. Where are you, anyway? Still in Barcelona?”
Mac came to his feet and glanced out the open doorway toward the inky water, shimmering only slightly from the moon peeking from behind the clouds. Bora Bora was one of the most beautiful places on the planet...it was also one of the most romantic. Not that he did the whole candlelight-on-the-beach kind of thing. He was more of a slam the bedroom door with his foot as he plastered a willing woman against the wall and claimed her type of guy.
“I’m in Bora Bora with Jenna. She had a family emergency.” Sort of. “I’ll be home in a week, but let me know as soon as you discover anything, no matter how minor.”
“Will do.”
Mac disconnected the call and gripped his cell in his hand. Every time there was another lead, he got anxious. After years of letdowns, Mac knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but all of this searching had to pay off at some point, didn’t it? Because none of them would stop until these scrolls were found. Unfortunately, Patrick O’Shea had passed before he could fulfill that vow. The heart attack that claimed his father was sudden. He’d gone in for surgery, knowing there was a risk, but it was his only option for survival. They’d lost him on the table.
Mac didn’t know if he’d ever get used to the idea of his father not being around. Then again, he didn’t want to get used to the loss. He wanted to remember his father for the powerful, loving family man he was. He may have been a hard-ass outside his inner circle, he may have had more blood on his hands than a corrupt politician, but Patrick O’Shea was loyal to those close to him. Mac missed that man every minute of every day and would continue to honor his father’s legacy and work with his siblings to make the O’Shea name as reputable as ever.
With his mind spinning in so many directions, Mac was too wound up to go to bed. Well, he was too wound up to sleep. Getting between the sheets with Jenna right now wouldn’t be wise. He wanted her so damn bad, with a fierceness he’d not allowed himself to feel before. She wasn’t ready, though.
His priority for the next few days was to make Jenna smile, to make her life worry-free and to get her to see just how easy it would be to be intimate and still be friends. He wasn’t looking for a lifetime commitment; they were already best friends and that was about as close to someone as he was willing to get.
Given the family business, he was used to keeping certain things close to his chest. He didn’t want to get too involved with anyone because he doubted there was a woman in the world who would put up with his lies. And he would lie to Jenna—he had lied to her. He had no choice with his lifestyle, and he wasn’t about to apologize for it.
He’d been born an O’Shea, born into a world that was glamorous, powerful and, more often than not, deceitful. He was proud of his name, dirty rumors be damned. Because, overall, the name O’Shea brought prestige and power. No one questioned them to their faces. And Mac would stop at nothing to help fulfill his father’s dying wish in getting back the scrolls. At all costs. They’d been missing long enough and he wanted to be the one to bring them back to their rightful place.
Turning back around, Mac eyed the bedroom door once again. Was she asleep? Was she tossing and turning? Was she fantasizing about the offer he’d given? One way to find out. Stripping off his shirt, Mac tossed it to the sofa and padded toward the bedroom. No matter what she was doing, Mac was going in. He wasn’t tired, but there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. A smile spread across his face as he unbuttoned his shorts, slid the zipper down and let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them and slowly turned the knob.
Wearing only his black boxer briefs, Mac entered the darkened room, took in the curvy shape beneath the sheet and headed to the other side of the bed. After flipping his phone to silent, he placed it on the bedside table and sank onto the edge of the bed.
Behind him the sheets rustled and Mac had a hard time not letting his imagination run away with him. He’d never had a sleepover with Jenna before. Oh, she’d fallen asleep during a movie several times when he visited her or she came to his place. But Mac had never spent the night with her and she certainly hadn’t been planning on him sleeping in her room, so had she packed adequate pajamas? Did she sleep in the nude? All those lush curves, begging to be touched...
Mac eased back onto his pillow, crossed his ankles, laced his hands over his bare abdomen and stared up at the ceiling. The blades of the fan whirled in a slow, steady circle, giving off just enough of a light breeze to make the sheer curtains billow in front of the open window. The perfect setting for relaxation. For seduction. If this were any other woman, Mac wouldn’t put forth so much effort, but he knew full well that being with Jenna would be worth the wait and definitely worth the exercise in self-control.
A soft moan filled the silence of the room as Jenna shifted beneath the sheet again. Apparently she had fallen asleep, but she was restless. Good. Selfishly, he wanted her to be on edge, to be aching because he sure as hell was lying here in a state of...well, he couldn’t quite put the proper term to it.
Another moan escaped Jenna, this one louder, longer. Mac clenched his fists at his side. She was dreaming. His ego liked to think she was dreaming of him, of his proposition. The thought of her with another man irritated him, but he had no permanent claim on Jenna. Wanting intimacy with someone was completely different than wanting a happily-ever-after.
His eyes adjusted even more to the darkened room as he rolled over to watch her. A sheen of sweat covered her face; her lips were parted just enough to be even sexier than usual. The sheet slid down as she shifted again. What the hell was she wearing? Was that...yeah, she was wearing some type of maxi dress. Why?
Mac eased the sheet the rest of the way down her body. No wonder she was sweating. As soon as that layer was off, he stood and reached for the fan control, to kick it up on high. When he turned back to the bed, that long dress had ridden up on Jenna’s thighs. Mercy, the woman was killing him.
He knew she was insecure about her body. They’d never talked about it because he wouldn’t give that negativity any attention. To him, Jenna was absolutely perfect. He didn’t want her to believe her shape defined her. There had to be some way to make her see herself the way he did. To realize that she was a voluptuous, stunning siren and she was valuable to anyone who took the time to appreciate her.
Jenna rolled to her side, facing him. Mac watched the swell of her breast threaten to move over the boundary of the scoop neck of the dress. A tan line ran up around her neck—he resisted the urge to run his finger along the pale skin.
That damn kiss had completely messed with his mind. While he’d always found her sexy as hell, now that he’d fully tasted her, he could think of nothing but tasting her again. For years he’d thrown out one sexual innuendo after another, but he wasn’t kidding any longer. That kiss had changed something in him and as soon as he knocked her guard down and made her his, he could eradicate her from his system and they could circle back to this friendship thing.
Before he could roll away, her lids fluttered open, her eyes locking on to his. She blinked as she licked her lips, her hand moving up to adjust the top of her dress.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asked, her voice husky.
“You were dreaming.” He wasn’t about to answer her question. “And moaning.”
Her eyes widened, then closed briefly before she met his gaze once again. “Did I wake you up?”
Mac shifted on his side more, propping his elbow on the pillow, his head in his hand. “I just came in here. You’re
