An Irresistible Temptation. Elizabeth Bevarly

thick of the nightlife. Her sister Bethann and she had shared a flat and worked menial jobs and went clubbing with friends most nights. But then Bethann had become a legal assistant and gotten engaged and her social life had changed. “Part of the reason I was hired was because I’d been a personal assistant to Daniel Martin.”

      “What are you into?” he asked. “What kind of music do you like?”

      “Something with soul,” she said.

      “Sounds…”

      “Retro?”

      “No, interesting.”

      She left his office and tried to concentrate on the job ahead but she had enjoyed Henry—way too much for a boss. And he was her boss, something that she had to remember because she wasn’t interested in starting over again with a broken heart and an empty bank account.

      * * *

      Henry watched Astrid leave. His new PA was cute and funny and a bit cheeky. Having her in his office and on his team was going to make this job much more enjoyable.

      Despite the fact that many people believed him to be nothing more than a celebrity sportscaster and philanthropist, Henry did have a serious side. He certainly played hard, but few people knew he worked even harder.

      It was a lesson he’d learned from his stepfather, Gordon Ferguson. He’d first met Gordon when he was eight years old. Two years before his mum and Gordon married. Gordon was the head coach for the London Irish now but back then he had been one of the assistants. He’d helped Henry hone his rugby skills and made him into one of the best team captains of his generation.

      Henry’s office was on the top floor of the Everest Group building. It was situated in a corner with a nice view of the London Eye across the Thames. He glanced around the nicely appointed office, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He knew he couldn’t work in a place as boxed in and sterile as this one.

      He needed to get out of here. But first he wanted to know a little more about his assistant and about the task he’d taken on.

      At first, when he’d heard Malcolm’s offer, he didn’t care if he won the challenge or not, but now that he was here, his competitive instincts were rising to the fore. He liked to win. There was a reason he’d been named as RFU Player of the Year. He liked being the best. He hungered for it.

      He skimmed the reports that Astrid had prepared, making notes and trying not to remember how long Astrid’s legs had appeared under that short skirt she’d had on. And her smile…her mouth was full and tempting, and more than once when she’d been sitting there he’d wondered what her lips would taste like under his. Her mouth was wide, her lips plump, everything about her was irresistible.

      Office romances weren’t a good idea, but he knew himself and he was attracted to his assistant. He decided he wouldn’t act on that attraction unless she showed some sign of interest in him. He needed her to win this challenge and to be honest, winning was more important than starting an affair.

      “Henry?”

      Astrid was standing in the doorway; her short curly hair brushed her cheeks. He really did like the slim-fitting skirt she wore—it was plaid and her black knee-high boots made her look tall. The plain black sweater clung to her breasts, and he realized he was staring when she cleared her throat.

      “Yes, Astrid?”

      “I need to pop down to legal to get Steph’s offer details in to legal. You mind if I let my phone go unanswered?”

      “No, not at all. That was quick.” He was definitely going to like the perks that came with working in a large company. Being able to delegate tasks and have them done quickly—that was something he’d needed for a while.

      Henry had been producing on his own in between handling his own endorsement deals for athletic shoes and soft drinks. He’d also hosted a kids’ sports TV show that had run for two seasons. He liked the perks that went along with being a celebrity, but hadn’t relished having to do so much of the legwork himself.

      She smiled at him. “I aim to please.”

      “You’ve accomplished that,” he said.

      She left and he turned his chair so that he was facing the windows instead of watching the empty doorway. He’d always been a bit of a loner and that had suited him but having someone work for him…she was like his butler, he thought.

      Yeah, right. He’d never ogled Hammond’s legs. Yet he had to remember that Astrid did work for him. His own mother’s affair with her record producer had led to the end of her singing career and his birth. He wondered sometimes if she ever resented that, but she’d never said.

      He brushed that thought away. This was a new century. Attitudes were different than they had been in the ’70s. But he still didn’t want to make Astrid feel uncomfortable in the office with him.

      At the same time he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to resist pulling Astrid into his arms before too long and finding out how good that sassy mouth of hers tasted under his.

      His phone rang and he reached for it. “Devonshire here.”

      “Henry? This is your mum.”

      He loved how she always identified herself even though he could never mistake her for anyone else. “Hello, Mum. What’s up?”

      “I need a favor,” Tiffany Malone-Ferguson said. “Do you know anyone at Channel Four?”

      He knew a few people there. And he was afraid that this was going to be another attempt for his mother to regain the limelight. When pop stars and celebrities from the ’70s and ’80s had started turning up on game-style shows on Channel Four, his mum went mad. She’d said that she could return to the spotlight now that his half brothers were older.

      “I have talked to everyone I know over there more than once.”

      “Will you try again? Gordon suggested I start a show like that American show The Bachelor, but for rugby players. I know the lifestyle and I could definitely help arrange suitable girls. Not those tart scrummies that always pop up in the tabloids.”

      This idea wasn’t half-bad. He made a few notes and asked her more questions about her idea. “I’ll see what I can do.”

      “You’re the best, Henry. Love you.”

      “Love you too, Mum,” he said, disconnecting the call.

      He held his mobile loosely in his hand for another minute until someone cleared their throat and he glanced up to see Astrid standing in his doorway.

      “Yes?”

      “I need your signature on these forms. The runner from talent scout Roger McMillan dropped this demo off with a note that they are playing tonight. And I’m going to need you to give me a little more information on Steph,” she said, holding a sheaf of papers out toward him.

      He gestured for her to come in.

      “Also the head of legal wants a meeting with you to discuss contract procedures. I know you said we’d be working out of your Bromley office, but the management staff have enquired about setting up meetings with you. Do you want me to direct them to your home office?”

      He leaned back in his chair. “No. I think we’d better establish a day in the office each week for meetings. I have six direct reports, right?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Have them all scheduled for tomorrow,” he said. He’d learned the hard way at rugby that if he didn’t go for his goals he’d never achieve them. And teamwork was paramount to winning.

      “Astrid, bring me the personnel files on all of the staff. After I’ve reviewed them, you can schedule the meetings. Does anyone have anything that’s pressing?”

      “Just legal and accounting. You need to be added to the signature authority card before you can sign this contract.”