Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick: Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick. Katherine Garbera
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“Is it? Everest Group has no policy against fraternization, so your job isn’t in jeopardy at all.”
“Will that still be true if I say I want to go home?” she asked.
“Of course it will be. I think you know me better than that,” Henry said. “And if you don’t, then going home is definitely what you should do.”
She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” she said, climbing out of the car. He watched her walk to her vehicle, and she opened the door, tossing her purse inside before looking back at him.
“Do you really want to pursue a relationship with me?” she asked.
He nodded. He couldn’t get her out of his mind and he was tired of trying. He was going to have Astrid Taylor if for no other reason than they might be able to work without the tension of wondering what they’d be like together.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Henry. I’m not sure sleeping with you is in my best interest.”
“Well, when you put it that way, I’m not either,” Henry said. He reached out and tugged on one of her curls. He didn’t want her to say no to him, but he knew that she had a lot more at stake than he did. He was trying to go slowly with her, but he was used to just reaching out and taking what he wanted.
And damn the consequences.
“Come to my country home this weekend,” he said. “We can ride horses and play rugby and get to know each other.”
She shook her head. “I already have plans.”
“Then invite me along,” he said. A shy man never got what he wanted.
“It’s with my family…. Still want to come?”
“Yes. What’s the occasion?”
“My sister’s birthday. My mum’s having a dinner party for her.”
Henry realized that Astrid thought she had taken a risk by inviting him. And he wasn’t about to pass it up. “I’d love to.”
“Good. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Henry. Thanks for the lift.”
“You’re welcome. Drive safely, Astrid.”
She got in her car, and he backed up to let her leave in front of him. She was completely unlike any other woman he’d ever met and he was beginning to understand that was part of what attracted him to her.
Six
Astrid had had second, third and fourth thoughts about inviting Henry to her parents’ house for Bethann’s birthday, but she’d asked and he’d accepted, so there was no turning back now.
Henry hadn’t been in the office the past two days so she hadn’t seen him since she’d invited him. He’d sent her a text message the night before, asking what time to pick her up. Now she was standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom wishing that she’d turn into someone else. Someone who knew what she was doing with her life instead of a woman who just bumped along.
The bell rang and she sighed.
She walked through the flat and opened the door to find Henry standing there. He wore a striped button-down shirt with an open collar and a pair of dark trousers. He hadn’t shaved but the light beard on his jaw made him look even sexier than he normally did.
“Come in,” she said, stepping back so he could enter. “I have to grab my bag and then I’ll be ready to go.”
“Take your time,” he said.
She went down the short hall to her bedroom and gathered her stuff as quickly as she could. When she came back Henry stood in front of the wall where she’d hung her family pictures.
“Is this Bethann?”
“Yes. When she passed her A levels. That’s my parents’ place, as well.”
“Everyone looks happy,” he said.
“We generally are,” she said. She’d taken that happiness for granted. Thought that because she had a sunny outlook, her life would follow that path. But experience had taught her otherwise.
“Ready then?”
“Yes,” he said, walking toward her. But instead of continuing on to the door, he stopped and pulled her into his arms.
He kissed her, and she shut her eyes, savoring that moment of closeness. A moment that passed all too quickly as Henry ended the kiss and then put his hand on the small of her back to lead her to the front door. He waited while she double-checked her lock and then they went downstairs.
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