“Now, I have to see it,” he replied.
Astra laughed again, her eyes shimmering like two gold coins. “Well, maybe I could arrange a tour,” she said.
“Don’t say it unless you mean it because I’m just as relentless about things like this as I am about questions.”
“Let’s see how this date goes and, if you don’t run away screaming at the end, then I’ll make it happen.”
Rune grinned. “Then, I’d better make sure this is the best date you’ve ever had because I have no intention of running away, screaming or not.”
Astra’s smile faded and the expression on her face made him wonder if he’d said something wrong. Before he could comment or ask what was bothering her, she seemed to shake herself.
“Tell me more about what you do,” she said. “I never have enough time to read, but it is something I used to enjoy when I was younger.”
Rune clutched at his chest. “You don’t have time to read? That’s like blasphemy.”
She took it as the joke it was and smiled once again. “Unfortunately, as a partner, I somehow end up working ten or twelve hours most days. I’ve been bugging my parents for a year now to make my youngest sister, Sylvie, a partner, but they’re all dragging their feet. My sister included.”
“Why?”
Astra shrugged. “It’s a lot of responsibility for someone under thirty.”
Rune nearly choked on his wine. “Under thirty? Are you…” he trailed off, realizing that he was about to ask her how old she was. A huge no-no, regardless of a female’s species.
She arched a brow at him, something he was jealous of because he’d never been able to do that—lift only one eyebrow. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“Uh, I was preparing to shove my entire foot in my mouth, shoe, sock, and all.”
She threw her head back and laughed again, louder than she had before. She looked completely relaxed in that moment. He was glad they were seated in the alcove, away from other people, or he probably would have had to fight off every other man in the room.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m older than I look. Most Valkyrie are.”
“You’re a Valkyrie?” he asked.
“Yes. I just turned forty-five last fall.”
No wonder she looked like a goddess. She was a descendent of one.
“I’m nearly a hundred and fifteen,” he confessed.
“You don’t look a day over thirty-five.”
They both laughed and shook their heads. Thank the gods their server hadn’t returned during that conversation or he would have been a lot more intimidated than he was already.
“All right, stop avoiding my questions,” she said, leaning across the table and little smacking his forearm. “Tell me more about what you do. I’m curious.”
“Well, basically, I sit in front of the computer all day long and either tell myself a story or wish I could yank all my hair out. Sometimes, I eat candy or drink soda while I do it. If a book is really cooking, I’ll pull a couple all nighters.” He shrugged.
“I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than that,” she argued.
“Well, there’s social media, blogs, and newsletters. My publicist keeps telling me I have to do that stuff, but I always forget. And there are the book tours. I get to meet my readers, which is cool, but it’s exhausting too because it’s city after city for a few weeks.”
“That does sound exhausting,” she agreed. “But I can tell you love it.”
“Really? How? Because I thought I was complaining.”
“You were smiling the entire time you werecomplaining.”
“I was?”
