Meghan smoothed her dress down, looking critically at herself in the bedroom mirror. Then she grinned. The best thing about having a stylist was getting to look so good. Her dreadlocks were pinned up in a complicated pattern she’d never be able to do herself, and her eye makeup looked amazing.

“Stunning,” said Jackson, coming up behind her.

“You don’t clean up too badly yourself.” She turned to adjust his already-straight tie, just because she loved touching him. Truth was, after a year together, his good looks still made her breathless.

“We’re going to be late. Are you ready?” He offered his arm to escort her outside to the limo, and as usual, his cologne did wicked things to her. If he wore it every day for the rest of their lives, she’d never get enough of it. Sometimes when they were forced to spend a little time apart, she sprayed a little on herself just so she could smile every time she smelled it. But it didn’t smell half as good on her as it did on him.

“What song’s in your head?” he asked, nodding at her fingers tapping against his arm.

“I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing, by Aerosmith.” It was the perfect song for how she felt. If she could give up sleeping, she’d do it in a heartbeat. She didn’t want to miss a second of this. Of him. How could she have imagined that life would ever be this good?

“Do you have a song in your head?” she asked as they shut the front door behind them.

“If I did, it would be, You Look Wonderful Tonight. Eric Clapton sang it, didn’t he?”

Though her heart was filled with warmth, she gave him a mock grimace. “Cheesy.”

“What can I say? When it comes to you, I only hear the classics.”

Sliding onto the limo’s leather seat, she gave him a suggestive look. “Remember the first time we made love in here?”

“I’ll never forget it.”

When he settled in next to her, she ran her hand up his thigh. “We could play hooky and do that again instead.”

“Tempting. But this’ll be the biggest hologram I’ve ever projected. I’m looking forward to seeing it. Aren’t you?”

“Sure.” She screwed up her nose, pretending reluctance. “As long as the place isn’t full of businessmen wearing suits. You know how I hate that.”

“We don’t have to hang around afterward.” He dropped his voice and leaned in close to her ear. “We could get back in the limo and investigate what you have on under that dress.”

It was the gust of his breath against her ear as much as his words that made her give a throaty laugh. There was no way in the world she’d miss the event tonight, and he knew it. But teasing him was almost as good as touching him, and she liked to do plenty of both.

Traffic slowed as they got close to the Opera House. Sydney’s waterfront was bustling with crowds of people enjoying the beautiful evening. The limo crawled to the end of Macquarie Street and stopped.

“You ready?” asked Jackson.

Meghan nodded, but the closer they got, the more her stomach was turning over. “Do I look okay?” she asked.

He took her face in his hands and grazed his lips gently across hers, being careful not to smudge her lipstick, then kissed her nose more firmly. “You’re perfect. You know that.”

She managed a nervous smile. “Just checking.”

Their driver opened her door and Meghan got out of the limo as gracefully as she could. She tried not to squint as a dozen photographers’ flashbulbs went off.

“Meghan. Meghan, over here.”

“Look at me, Meghan.”

“Give me a smile, Meghan.”

No matter what, she’d never get used to having photographers clamoring for her picture. Fame had come suddenly, and she still felt exactly like the woman who’d had to sing with her cap on the sidewalk to be able to afford a bed for the night. How on earth had she made it from there to here?

“Can we get a picture of you with your boyfriend, Meghan?”

She stretched her hand to Jackson and he put his arm around her waist.

“Is he someone?” she heard a photographer ask.

She glanced at Jackson. He was biting his lip, trying not to laugh. The sight made her want to crack up too, but she couldn’t in front of the cameras. Not unless she wanted to see a shot of herself mid-snort in a magazine. It would probably make the cover.

“That’s Jackson Brent, you idiot,” someone replied.

Jackson urged her forward with his arm still around her. “Come on. There’s Ellie and Frank.”

They walked toward the Opera House together and she greeted her friends. All of her heady success she owed to Frank. He was officially the best agent in the world and she’d come to love both him and Ellie, almost as much as she loved Jackson.

Ellie grinned at her. “Ready to see us both projected as giant-sized holograms?”

Meghan shook her head. “I’m not sure. It’s going to be weird watching myself sing.”

“It’ll be the easiest concert I’ve ever done.” Ellie linked her arm in Frank’s. “I’m going to enjoy it.”

“As long as the audience does, I’ll be happy.” Meghan put her arm back around Jackson’s waist, and the four of them strolled toward the Opera House’s impressive front steps. A red carpet had been laid out for them, and security guards were keeping the bystanders back. Meghan smiled at her fans and waved, while she and Jackson walked in step with each other. Jackson moderated his long strides for her, and she stretched hers to match his.

“They can’t get enough of you,” Jackson murmured in her ear. “And the whole world will love you even more once your concert’s available to watch on every cellphone and computer.”

She shook her head, still a little bewildered by how fame had barreled out of nowhere and smacked right into her. Rolling Stone magazine had called her an overnight star, and after more than a decade of going nowhere, that was exactly how it felt.

“As long as you love me, that’s all I care about.” She thought she’d whispered it too quietly for Jackson to hear, but he bent his head to her ear again.

“Is there a song about loving a woman who’s going to be richer than I am?”

“I’ll never be that rich.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” His smile was lifted in one corner, and she could tell he was enjoying the possibility. Jackson wanted great things for her and was enjoying every minute of her rise to the top. She only hoped he knew how grateful she was and how her heart was overflowing. But he had to know, considering how often she told him.

At the base of Sydney’s iconic Opera House was a tall set of stairs they’d have to climb. The red carpet went all the way up to the top, and Meghan hoped she wouldn’t get one of her heels caught on it and fall. But she couldn’t fall, because Jackson was there, his arm around her, supporting her. The way he’d always be there for her.

Singing at his release party had being the starting point for her career, but every word and note of the album that had made her a star had come from her own heart. And on her crazy, wild ride to the top of the music charts, she’d come to realize that needing him wasn’t a weakness. Leaning on each other made them both stronger.

It was only when they’d climbed the staircase and were at the entrance doors that Jackson let her go. “Turn around,” he said. “See how far we’ve come.”

Meghan turned and saw everything that was laid out before them. Her fans, here to attend the world premiere of her and Ellie’s 3-D concert. The cluster of photographers with their flashing cameras. The red carpet they’d ascended. Beyond all that was the harbor and the tall buildings of Sydney’s inner city, just starting to sparkle with lights. They really were on top of the world.

“This is incredible,” Meghan murmured. Tears pricked her eyes. What had she done to deserve so much? She glanced at Jackson, tall and handsome, standing beside her. “You think we can keep climbing? Do you have any idea how high this mountain goes?”

He gave her a smile filled with love and took hold of her hand. “Tell you what. Let’s find out together.”