Emma looked at the man sitting across from her. Dark hair that was a little long, grey eyes, and a smile that caused a small dimple in the corner of his cheek. A face that was beautiful and a body that was hot and hard and…it did absolutely nothing for her. It was so unfair.

Jonathon Ashby should be everything she wanted. He had money, he was a good man—from what she could tell—and he was damn fine and yet there was no spark, no sizzle, no warmth curling in her belly, and no reason for her to clench her thighs together under the table. His hands didn’t make her...