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start to relax here at the office.”

      “I already have,” she said. It surprised her. She’d kept her guard up and tried not to see Henry as anything other than her boss. But he was a stand-up guy behind the celebrity profile. She fielded a dozen questions a day from magazines and newspaper reporters about where he was going to be. Some of the information she leaked because Henry wanted some extra coverage for a group or for his friends.

      “Good,” he said again, leaving her to go into his office. She just sat there and tried not to think too much about the fact that he was treating her like an employee and he hadn’t tried to kiss her once since that night at her flat. Which was perfect, really, since she wasn’t interested in him as a man. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.

      Astrid borrowed her sister’s car for the evening and left it parked near Waterloo Station so she could have Henry drop her off there if she needed to. She didn’t want to risk having him at her flat again. They were hitting another string of clubs tonight. It had been four weeks since she’d talked to him in his office. For the most part he kept his hands to himself. But his gaze often lingered on her lips or her figure.

      And she found herself wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. She wanted to feel his arms around her. Each night in her dreams she relived that brief kiss he’d given her at her door. She wasn’t going to allow herself to pine for him, but a part of her—the part that she sometimes thought would never come to her senses—longed for Henry.

      She took the Underground to Covent Garden and walked to Bungalow 8. The exclusive club had been known to turn away even celebs, so she was a little intimidated to approach the bouncer.

      “Can I help you?”

      “I’m meeting Henry Devonshire,” she said. “I’m Astrid Taylor.”

      “Of course, Ms. Taylor. He asked that you join him in the VIP area. The hostess will direct you once you are inside.”

      The electronica music pulsed through her body as she followed the hostess to the VIP area. She should be getting used to so many late nights, but she wasn’t. And when she approached Henry’s table, she noticed that it was full of people. She’d realized quickly that part of Henry’s charm was his easygoing manner.

      No wonder the bouncer had simply let her in. She was probably one of fifteen people who’d used Henry’s name to get in the door tonight.

      He looked up when she approached and gave her a half smile. He gestured for her to have a seat at the end of his table and she sat down next to a man she’d seen on TV and Lonnie from their office. She chatted with the TV guy—“call me Alan”—until he left with a group of three women. Henry waved her down to a seat next to him.

      “Have you been listening to this group?”

      “Hard not to,” she said. Since the music even in the VIP section was blaringly loud, it made conversation impossible.

      “What do you think of it?”

      She turned her head toward the sound and closed her eyes. One of the first things she’d realized about good music was that it had the power to entrance a person. Make someone forget about the problems of everyday life. The band didn’t spark that feeling.

      “It’s nice.”

      “But not great,” Henry said.

      “Exactly. They are a good band and I bet they’d do well for one album, but I don’t think they have the kind of sound that would sustain a lasting career,” she said.

      “Good. I like your instincts.”

      “Thanks,” she said.

      “The next band is the one that Roger recommended to me. I think you’ll like them.”

      “Why?” she asked. She wanted to know what Henry thought she’d like and why. Did he really know her? It had only been a few weeks, though she’d come to know him pretty well since they’d spent so much time together?

      “Because they have a nice sound with a pop groove but there’s something retro about their lyrics. They talk about real emotions, which I’ve noticed you like as I’ve been listening to the tapes of the bands you want me to sign.”

      “I noticed you noticing,” she said. Over the past two weeks he had paid a lot of attention to her at work, asking her opinions on bands, giving her decision-making power on booking groups for radio tours and whatnot. Mostly he’s treated her like a respected peer, and that was all she’d needed.

      “Good. I wanted you to see that I’m not like Daniel,” Henry said.

      “Why?” she asked.

      “Because I’m going to kiss you again, Astrid, and this time I don’t want you to run.”

      She felt foolish when he said it like that. But then she was human, she thought. And resisting temptation, especially the type that he offered, was too hard.

      “I’m not going to make another foolish mistake,” she said, not sure if she meant the words for Henry or for herself.

      “Good,” he said. He reached under the table and took her hand in his. His big hand completely engulfed hers. They announced the band XSU. Sounded like some American university band and the guys looked the part.

      In their denim jeans and faded vintage T-shirts they looked as though they were meant to be singing to university crowds instead of this very upscale and trendy club in London.

      They introduced their first song and the music was … sex-disco. A pulsing beat that made her want to get up and dance. She was tapping her feet and noticed that Henry was moving to the beat, as well. The dance floor, which had been crowded before now, seemed to be a single solid wave of dancing bodies.

      Henry used his grip on her hand to tug her to her feet. They were in the middle of the swaying crowd. Henry’s body brushed hers often as they danced, each brush reminding her that she’d done a poor job of keeping the distance she’d wanted between them.

      She tried to be stiff, tried to keep a part of herself locked away but it was impossible. She wanted Henry. And this music reminded her that life was meant to be lived, not hidden away from.

      She stopped thinking she had to be professional and just relaxed, allowing herself to just be herself. And that moment changed her. She looked into Henry’s impossibly blue eyes and saw more than she’d thought to see.

      In taking the measure of the man, she knew that no matter what happened between them, she’d never regret the time they spent together.

       Five

      Something had changed in Astrid when XSU had started playing. She seemed to sparkle with life as she moved on the dance floor, and Henry wanted to be the only one who basked in that glow.

      He kept one hand on her hip as they danced. Her body brushed against his, teasing him with each rhythmic move she made. He wanted more than those fleeting touches. He wanted her breasts pressed solidly against his chest, his hands holding her hips and that tempting mouth of hers under his.

      The music stopped, but he scarcely noticed. The crowd applauded, and in the back of his mind Henry realized that he’d found the first group he’d sign to the Everest Records label, and he’d use a similar path to the one he developed with Steph Cordo. But he’d also found something else, he thought.

      Astrid watched him with those big brown eyes of hers, and he leaned in and kissed her. He didn’t think about consequences or warnings. Didn’t think about winning or business. Just thought that this woman was temptation incarnate and he was tired of denying himself.

      He lingered over her mouth. The last three weeks had been too long as far as his body was concerned. Blood flowed heavier through his veins. Her hands came to his shoulders, anchoring her as she rose on tiptoe to deepen their kiss.

      The crowd swayed around them as the band moved on to the

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