Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick: Master of Fortune / Marrying the Lone Star Maverick

There were a few paps—paparazzi—who took some photos of Henry. She stepped back so he could be photographed alone. He posed and talked to the photographers and signed a few autographs before reaching for her hand and drawing her up the path to the entrance.

She knew that Henry hadn’t finished questioning her about her past and Daniel. She also decided if she played her cards right, she could keep him off the topic tonight.

“Does that happen to you often?” she asked when they checked their coats downstairs.

He smiled ruefully. “Yes. I’m used to it, though. My mum says that it’s part of our life being in the spotlight. I grew up around it. I don’t court them, but if they want a photo I give them one.”

“Isn’t it intrusive?” she asked.

He stopped and pulled her toward a quiet corner. “It’s my life. I don’t think about it. When I was a player, I didn’t like them because they were a distraction and some of the other players would let the paps keep them from concentrating on the game. But now, they are what keeps my lifestyle going forward,” he said.

“You’re a very smart man,” she said, coming to the conclusion that the showman, the charming playboy that he projected to the world was just one of the many facets of the whole man.

“Indeed. So that’s why I’m not going to let you distract me from the fact that you still haven’t told me everything about your last employer.”

Three

Astrid tossed her head to the side and gave him a look that told him he was going to have to be subtler if he wanted to find out about her past. He nodded and took her arm leading her to the maître d’ stand. They were seated shortly at an intimate table for two that had a nice view. He realized he didn’t want to look at anyone but Astrid.

She was a mass of contradictions and she fascinated him.

“I think the London music scene is really hot right now. So many little local acts are making it big, not just here but in the States.”

“But are they ready for it?” Henry asked.

“I’m not sure they are. You’ve grown up in the spotlight and you know how different it is from the paps in the States. I think that some of the groups aren’t really ready to handle the fame that they achieve so quickly. And the American market can be fickle.”

“Yes, they can. I’ve been trying to caution Steph that making it big there will mean a meteoric rise, but it could be followed by quite a crash.”

“It’s good that you’ve taken the time to talk to her. I can help with that, as well. I listened to her music earlier today and the demo that Roger dropped off. I also think I know some venues that will suit the style of music you’re looking for.”

“And what kind is that?”

“Something with a hook, of course, that is catchy and that people will remember. But I think you’re also looking for music that has some heart to it.”

He nodded. She did indeed know what he was looking for. That made him uncomfortable. He liked to play at being an easygoing guy that everyone knew and who in turn knew everyone, but in reality he kept himself distant. The only woman he could really claim to know well was his mother. And she was, by anyone’s definition, eccentric.

But Astrid was different. She was calm and quiet at times. Like now.

“How long did you work for the Mo Rollins Group and Daniel Martin?” he asked. Mo Rollins was a legendary producer who had established his own label after leaving Sony-BMG. Daniel was one of his up and coming protégé.

“Only eighteen months, but I had worked as one of the assistants to Mo’s executive assistant for more than three years before that.”

“Did you like it?” he asked. It made no sense that she’d leave that job and then come work for him. If she wanted to work in the music industry, then the job had been ideally suited for her. Henry told himself that he wasn’t asking her because he was curious about the woman. He needed to know about her past because she was part of his team and he needed to know every nuance of his team if they were going to be a success.

“I loved it,” she said, putting down her wineglass. She leaned across the table and put her hand over his. She had neatly painted nails and her hand was very soft against the back of his. Being a rugby player he’d always had calloused or bruised hands, but hers were soft and cool.

“I know you want to understand why I left such a high-profile job. There’s a lot to it…. It was a highly personal health issue and I just don’t—” She broke off, tears filling her eyes.

Henry turned his hand over under hers and held hers loosely in his grip. He understood about secrets and personal issues. He could hold off for now, but before too long he would know all of Astrid Taylor’s secrets. HR had screened her and wouldn’t have hired her f there was anything untoward in her past.

“Very well. Tonight you are going to meet Steph Cordo. Part of your role will be to act as an assistant to my stable of artists until they hire their own people,” Henry said.

“Right. I’ve done that type of work before. I can handle that.”

“I know you can handle it, Astrid. You’re very adept at doing what needs to be done,” he said.

She flushed. “My sister says it’s a gift.”

“Really? Why?”

“Um … I was always a bit of a suck up when we were younger. But being nice does open doors,” she said with a wry little grin.

“Indeed.”

Henry noticed he was still holding her hand. He stroked his thumb over her knuckles and watched her face. She flushed again and then pulled her hand back. She licked her lips, which were wide and full. Her mouth moved and he knew she was saying something, but for the life of him he couldn’t concentrate on her words.

All he could do was watch them move. Stare at her white teeth and very pink lips and wonder how her mouth would feel under his.

“Henry?”

“Hmm?”

“The waiter asked if we wanted dessert,” she said.

“Sorry, mate. I’m good. Would you like something, Astrid?”

She shook her head.

He asked for the check and Astrid excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. It was odd that the old man had decided to get in touch with him now, but Henry thought that the job at Everest was going to be a fun challenge.

He’d long since stopped thinking of Malcolm as any type of relation. The man had sent gifts at birthdays and Christmases over the years, but Henry didn’t really know him. He’d always been a sort of Dr. Who character that came in and out of his life with no real notice.

But Henry felt the need to know more about him now. Malcolm held the key to any future success his team would have because of the will. His BlackBerry rang and he glanced at the screen. Henry had a firm policy of not talking on his cell phone when he was out with another person.

Alonzo, one of the men he paid for tips on new bands, sent a text message that he had a group that Henry should check out playing later in the evening at a club a few blocks from where they were. Henry noted it.

He wasn’t one for letting any leads slip by him. Maybe that was why he hadn’t had a problem transitioning from rugby player to entrepreneur back when he’d first retired.

He glanced up as Astrid was walking toward him and simply watched her. She moved like many women did when they knew a man was watching. Her hips swayed languidly with each step and her arms moved by her sides.

“You’re staring at me, boss man.”

“You’re a very pretty girl, Astrid.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Thanks, I think.”

“You think?”