An Irresistible Temptation. Elizabeth Bevarly

      Henry didn’t want to share that with her. He was reluctant to let anyone know about the impulses that had always driven him—the need for immediacy in every area of his life.

      * * *

      Astrid was still almost high on her new sense of self. She had always let the men in her life…well, Daniel, set the tone and the pace of their relationship. And she knew if she was going to have any chance at making any kind of relationship with Henry work, she needed to change.

      Instead of focusing on hiding her own secrets, she wanted to know about his. What had shaped Henry into the man he was today?

      He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and drew her closer to him. “I’m not restless, love. I want to be alone with you so we can finish what we started on the dance floor.”

      She shivered as he spoke straight into her ear. The warmth of his breath against her neck sent electric pulses flooding through her body. She wanted him, too.

      And that scared her. Lust she could deal with but this was more than lust. She liked Henry. Liked the man who was more than his press bio. And she was afraid to trust that gut-deep feeling about Henry. She thought he was different, but there was no guarantee any relationship between the two of them was going to last more than a few months.

      “What’s that look for?” he asked her.

      “I’m scared that I’m in over my head,” she said in a moment of candor. She might regret it later, but if she’d learned anything it was not to pull her punches. There was no “safe-route” in any relationship.

      “My first year as a professional rugby player I was constantly terrified. My stepdad was the coach and I knew that if I screwed up, he’d come down on me. And I played from a place of fear for the first three games, before one of the guys said to me, ‘I heard you were good, but now it looks like that was all bullshit.’”

      “That wasn’t very nice.”

      Henry shrugged. “I was giving in to the pressure from every avenue, so I made a decision that I was going to play for myself. Not for Gordon or for the crowd. Just for myself.”

      “Did that work?” Astrid asked.

      “Yes, it did. My playing started improving and eventually I was made captain.”

      “Good job,” she said.

      “I used that same theory off the pitch. I live my life on my terms.”

      “I’m trying to do the same, but there is always a fear—”

      “Stop worrying, Astrid.”

      He glanced over her shoulder and stood to greet someone else—a tall dark-haired young man whose shaggy hair reached his shoulders.

      “I’m Bryan Monroe. I represent XSU.”

      “Glad to meet you. This is Astrid, my assistant. Would you like to sit down and join us for a drink?”

      “Love to.”

      Astrid sank back into her seat and just observed Henry doing his thing. People came and went from his table, which was the norm for Henry, but he kept his attention on everyone. He always had a glass of seltzer water on the table in front of him. She’d quickly realized that her boss didn’t drink on these long nights out. And he had a work ethic that would put anyone to shame.

      Daniel had often used other people to make things happen. She had observed him leaving clubs early with groupies while his underlings stayed and talked details. Every minute she spent with Henry made her like him a little more.

      She started to get tired and fought to keep from yawning at about two in the morning. She signaled to Henry that she was going to leave.

      “Wait for me,” he said to her.

      Thirty minutes later, they walked out of the club together. “I think we’re going to get XSU.”

      “Definitely. Bryan sounded very encouraging. I’ll follow up with him first thing tomorrow.”

      “I’ll give you a ride home,” Henry said.

      “Not necessary. I drove Bethann’s car today.”

      “Why?”

      “I didn’t want to take advantage of you. I appreciate the fact that you are always giving me a ride but it seemed important to have my own way home.”

      “Why is that?” he asked.

      “Because I always want to invite you up to my place and that’s not a good idea, is it?”

      Astrid didn’t regret her candor. They both knew the attraction between them was growing. There was nothing they could do about it.

      “I think inviting me up is a fine idea. Why haven’t you?”

      “Because you’re my boss, Henry,” she said. The night breeze was cool and a little crisp as she tipped her head back to stare up at the stars.

      “Why is your name Henry?”

      He laughed a soft sound. “It was my mum’s dad’s name. What about you, Astrid?”

      “My mother got it from a book. Bethann was named after my mum’s mum and me…I get a name from a book,” she said.

      “What book?”

      “Pippi Longstocking. The author was Astrid Lindgren. My mum said she wanted me to have that passion for life that Pippi always had.”

      Astrid looked back over at Henry to find him watching her with that unreadable expression of his. She was talking too much, she knew, but she was tired. Physically of course, because her body had yet to adjust to the night owl hours, but also tired of keeping parts of herself from Henry. She wanted him to know the woman she was. Wanted him to look at her and see the real woman.

      “I like that. Your mum sounds like she knew what she was doing when she named you,” Henry said.

      Astrid wasn’t certain about that. A part of her had always felt as though she had to live a larger life than her sister. Bethann was driven and always made the right choices. She had achieved more and accomplished great things, as opposed to Astrid, who was always starting over.

      “I’m not so sure. But I do like where I am right now,” she said.

      Henry grabbed her hand, linking their fingers together as they walked down the street to where he’d parked his car.

      “Have you ever thought about what you’d name your children?”

      Astrid felt a sting of tears at his question. And turned away from him.

      “Astrid?”

      She shook her head. “Probably after my parents. You?”

      “I’ve always thought I’d name a son after Jonny Wilkinson, the great rugby player.”

      “Better hope your wife likes the sport,” she said. She tried to keep her tone light, but she knew that children was never going to be an easy topic for her.…How had they taken this track?

      * * *

      Henry didn’t want to talk about kids; he’d never really thought much about them other than when his mum had given birth to his two younger half brothers. But there was a tone in Astrid’s voice that made him believe he should pursue this line. There was something more to the way she had answered his throwaway question.

      “What are your parents’ names?” he asked.

      “Spencer and Mary,” she said. “I really don’t want to talk about this. I’m not even sure how we ended up on this topic.”

      He unlocked the passenger door of his car and helped her inside. He walked around to the driver’s side and sat behind the wheel for a minute before starting it.

      “My mum contemplated naming me Mick after