They were at Jenny’s temporary home-away-from-home ten bucks later. Not the greatest building, but it was the perfect location: five blocks from the theatre and half a block from the practice studio.

“The bellman has my key,” she said.

Asher was the picture of cool and collected, completely unfazed as he led her into the building and took the key from the bellman. The envelope was labeled #2306.

Compared to him, she was a mess. Her heart punched her breastbone. Her feminine parts were in overdrive—breasts aching for his touch, dampness teasing between her legs, and a wild curiosity piqued. If kissing Asher was better than she could fantasize about, what would he be like in bed?

In the taxi, he had stroked her arm and made small talk with the cabbie. She had focused on breathing. Inhale, exhale. Don’t pass out.

Jenny leaned against the elevator wall as it slowly progressed to the twenty-third floor. Asher’s hand covered hers. She watched him in the mirrored walls. A wicked smile danced on his face as he watched her back.

His eyes were intense. His sinewy jawline flexed. He personified dapper and daring, as if he’d walked off a GQ photo shoot. Perfect hair. Perfect suit. Perfect… just perfect.

A sparkle radiated from him. Every woman wanted to be on his arm. Every man wanted to be his buddy. It made him a good politician. That, and he was a good politician.

He was the real deal, through and through. As manly and in charge as they came, and he’d set his sights on her.

The elevator doors opened, and in one step, he had her under his arm again and walking toward her apartment. Toward a bed and every dream she’d hoped for since they’d first been introduced.

“Here we go.” He jangled the key and slid her in front of him. She pressed against the cheap wood, and he slipped the key into the lock, unlocking it, but didn’t turn the handle. “What’s that look?”

I can do this. I can do anything. Just calm down.

Tingles exploded down her neck, shooting toward her navel. Asher drew back, narrowing his eyes.

“Jenny?”

“This is going to change everything.” There. She’d said it. He could agree and walk away. Everything would go back to normal, where she pined after him, he glanced her way but kept moving.

“Hell, it wasn’t the same after we kissed.” Asher turned the handle, held her against his chest, and walked into her new apartment. “I haven’t been the same because of you. I’ve loved it.”

Good, because I love you.

Their eyes were locked, and she couldn’t turn away. Asher led her from a matchbox-sized living room to the tiny but separate bedroom. She’d been warned that the place was semi-furnished and decorated to get “their star” into the spirit of the show. Boas draped over the door. Candles lined a dresser, and erotic books lay on the nightstand. The apartment had a Tassels and Tangoes quality. Sexy. Seductive. Sensual.