Master of Fortune by Katherine Garbera

said, feeling more like herself when he reached for her hand to help her out of the car.
    “I know. But you’re going to.”
    She just laughed. He was all things to everyone. Today she’d seen how easily he could charm her taxi-driver father, her solicitor sister and her brother-in-law. “Promise me this is real.”
    He looked down at her. “What do you mean?”
    She took a deep breath. Was she being too needy? Or reading things into this—into him? Was she making him into the man she wanted him to be? “Are you pretending to be what I need you to be?”
    “Why would I? I’m not playing games with you,” he said.
    She wanted to believe. She truly did. She would make herself crazy if she tried to examine every move he made.
    She led the way up to her, surprised at how not-weird it felt to have Henry in her place. She took off her shoes because her feet ached after wearing heels all day.
    “Would you like something to drink?”
    “Coffee would be great,” he said.
    She went into the kitchen to make it. When she came back out, Henry was thumbing through the stack of CDs that she had in her living room. “I have too many, I keep saying I’m going to get organized….”
    “I’m the same way. I like your taste.”
    “Do you now?”
    “Indeed. Do you mind if I put on some music?”
    “No, go ahead. I have some biscuits if you’d like something with your coffee,” she said.
    “I’d love some. I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”
    “I’ve noticed.”
    “Have you?”
    “That little jar of sweets on the end of my desk. I must have refilled it at least three times a week since we started working together.”
    “You’ve found me out,” he said.
    “I have. And I intend to know all about you before much longer,” she said. Better to know his secrets than let him find out hers. She left him at her CD player and went to pour the coffee for them. She brought it into her sitting room on a tray that had been her grandmother’s.
    Henry was leaning back on the settee with his eyes closed. She had switched on her iPod with its Bose docking station, and some old-time jazz played in the background. Louis Armstrong with Ella Fitzgerald singing. The playlist was mellow and eclectic.
    She sat down next to Henry and he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to his side. After a few minutes he tipped her head up. His mouth moved over hers with surety, and this time there was nothing light or short about his kiss.



Seven
    “D ance with me,” Henry said. He stood up and drew her to her feet and into his arms.
    She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest as the song changed, and the sweet mellow sounds of Alan Jackson filled the room. The country music singer had a way of making Astrid cry whenever she listened to his singing, but she really liked the raw emotionality of his music.
    As they swayed, Henry sang quietly along with the music, his deep voice finding the countermelody to Alan Jackson’s. And despite what he’d said earlier about not really having any musical talent, she could tell that he did.
    She tipped her head to say something to him, but his mouth captured her words, and he kissed her deeply while he moved their bodies in time to the song.
    He bit her lower lip lightly as he pulled back. Nibbling kisses trailed against her jaw until his tongue brushed at the spot just under her ear.
    “This is what I wanted to do to you when we were in the club on Wednesday. Pull you into my arms and run my hands down your back.”
    She shivered, loving the intimate sound of the words spoken right into her ear. “Why didn’t you?”
    “There were too many people around. I didn’t think you’d welcome a photo in Ok! Of the two of us.”
    “No, I wouldn’t have.” She’d had enough of tabloids to last a lifetime.
    His hands found the back of her skirt and drew it up her legs. She felt his hand on the back of her thigh as the music changed to Bonnie Raitt, burning in the