Chapter One
Mandy Sloane was all of the things that Ethan Tyler knew was wrong for him. It wasn't just the sweet freshness of her easy smile and glowing green eyes. It wasn't even the gentle slope of her incredibly sexy curves, which were highlighted by a voluptuous frame, quite the opposite from the body type he was normally attracted to. There was no doubt about it - Mandy was sinfully beautiful and smart … but she could never be his. Which was unusual, seeing as Ethan Tyler could have pretty much any woman he wanted.
Twenty-five years old and at the height of his career as lead guitarist for the wildly successful rock band, The Strum, his face was splashed across every major endorsement and ad campaign imaginable. Ethan was the kind of man that could melt a woman's heart with just one look, causing chaos and pandemonium wherever he went. Teen girls and cougars alike would stand hours in line for just a quick glance of him, and should he come too close, an ambulance on stand-by would rush to the rescue should a woman faint from a quick touch of his hand. Wild and free, reckless and hungry, always hungry for more, Ethan was hell bent on being the best in the business and having everything that life had to offer. Most who knew him would describe him as a rock warrior who had a thirst that could never be quenched and a desire that was never sated, and yet one look at Mandy and Ethan had seen his nemesis in her emerald green eyes.
A girl like her could be kryptonite to a lone wolf like Ethan, and he knew it. Dangerous was undercutting it. The attraction he felt for her was outright lethal.
Ethan had first met Mandy in the most unexpected of ways. His PR team was convinced that he needed a fashion stylist to replace the last one they had fired because the band refused to accept her advice. The management team now felt that it was time for an update, with a focus on transforming Ethan from a rough and rugged bad boy to a more refined, classic rock star. He made no apologies for his love of comfortable jeans and worn out t-shirts. It didn't matter to him how successful or wealthy he had become, he still preferred to just be himself. But as down to earth as he was, there was one department in which he had very specific taste: women. In the wake of his tremendous success, he left a trail of heartbroken groupies, heiresses, and A-lister exes who all thought that they had dug their claws into the gorgeous rocker only to discover that he wanted no more than a night or two of passion before moving on.
And then he had to come face to face with Mandy and everything changed.
Not at an after-show party with his multitude of rocker pals and fans, not backstage smuggled through by one of his handlers, and certainly not through any of his well-meaning family members trying to hook him up with someone ‘decent' from his old neighborhood.
No - Mandy wasn't like anyone he had ever met before. Driven, professional, hungry for success, she was willing to work hard to make it to the top of her industry in design. Through strong recommendations, she was able to land an internship with celebrity stylist Jessica Charles, who handled the style of countless rock stars. Including Ethan.
Jessica was the most expensive, most sought after name in the fashion business and Ethan had been rather surprised to find a fresh-faced and seemingly untouched beauty like Mandy working so closely with the catty-eyed Jessica Charles, who had a penchant for boy-toys, and sometimes, doe-eyed cover girls.
Ethan had walked into the spacious, artistically designed offices of Jessica Charles and while the painfully thin woman had grabbed his hand in a hard grip, Ethan's eyes had shifted to just beyond the woman's shoulder to the other person who stood in the distance, her beautiful round face with a gorgeous, shy smile that instantly caught his attention.
She wore little or no make-up and had the most beautiful chestnut hair tumbling around her girlish face, framing her elegance. Ethan had first thought she had to be no more than twenty, but then he took in her very womanly curves and shapely mounds beneath her stylishly stark skirt-suit and heels and pegged her as a few years older. She intrigued him, and Ethan made no attempt to hide it.
Noticing his locked gaze on the girl who blushed and stiffened behind her, Jessica Charles turned and beckoned the girl closer.
"Ethan darling, meet Mandy Sloane, my new intern. Isn't she just so lovely? I took her on as a favor to her father who had business deals in the past with my ex-husband. But it's not all about me being nepotistic. Mandy is such a talented sweetheart, aren't you?"
Ethan smirked as Mandy's blush deepened even as she raised her chin and stepped forward. At least now he knew why Mandy was working for Jessica, who hardly took on interns except the most promising young talents. Even then, they had to wait months before getting the chance to work closely with the popular fashion stylist.
"Hello, Mr. Tyler. Such an honor to meet you."
Even her voice had character. Her skin was the smoothest and clearest he'd ever seen. She had lusciously pink lips and a cute, pert nose while her chin had just the slightest dent in the center.
And her perfume. Fuck. Not that perfume, thought Ethan as her soft, feminine hand slipped confidently into his. He grasped it firmly, turned it palm up, and lifted her wrist to his nose.
She froze in place, but he ignored the look of disbelief that swirled in her smoky green eyes as he inhaled deeply.
"Heaven Scent by Lingo," he growled deeply, closing his eyes as the smell took him back in time, through the ages to the misspent years of his early youth.
He looked up at last and could see Mandy's shocked smile. "Yes. How did you know?"
"My adoptive mother wore that perfume. And only that, always," he said, and suddenly dropped her hand.
"I didn't know you were adopted," Jessica spoke up, as if to break the spell as she cut in to stand between them.
"Well, now you do," Ethan said drily, turning to Jessica. Her gaunt cheekbones were tinged heavily with rouge, making her look like someone ready to take the stage at some opulent opera. Ethan sighed inwardly. Despite what anyone might think about her appearance, Jessica had worked with all the biggest names in music, film, and sports. Even business magnates came to her to fix their fashion image. She'd once famously turned down the chance to work with Donald Trump and had even had the opportunity to give fashion advice to the First Lady. So Ethan wiped any thoughts of long-suffering from his mind. He liked clothes, fashion, and jewelry. So he was going to find a way to enjoy this upcoming ordeal, especially now that he had such a juicy temptation within reach.
And being who he was, he made a point of spelling it out to Jessica. "You should know better than to have such a tempting treat so close to hand. She will be working with you on my latest makeover?"
Even though he wasn't looking at Mandy, he could tell she was blushing again. He smirked to himself. She was such an easy target. Jessica waved her hand in the air and laughed with deep humor.
"And there I was thinking she wasn't your type. Hands off, Ethan. Her father entrusted me with her welfare so don't go getting any ideas."
Ethan could only laugh.
Mandy had never known she had such a propensity for blushing. All this man had to do was look her way and she was all tied up in knots, going hot in the face, neck … and secret places she'd never known could feel that much warmth.
Mandy had always wondered about the strange allure of rock stars. What made them so irresistible to women? She'd never been that impressed. Sure, with all that money and fame came power, and women were drawn to powerful men. Men who could control crowds of adoring fans and who had the world at their feet. Men whose money could buy them whatever they so much as wished for. When she'd found out she was about to meet the notorious Ethan Tyler, she'd been so sure she'd be immune to him. She didn't even like hardcore rock.
But forget his music. Ethan Tyler was a god.
In looks, at least. Those mesmerizing blue eyes. That face. God, that face. A cross between sinfully handsome and boyishly gorgeous, he had a forehead and jawline that seemed like it was carved from the Nordic fairy tales of old. Lips full and curvy that had no business being owned by a man - so unfair was Mandy's longing thought. And boy was he tall; well above six feet and lithe as a swimmer, with those lean hips that seemed to make a pair of snug black jeans look like they should be outlawed for being too sexy. Goodness. His hair; she couldn't forget his hair. Shamelessly wavy and long, the almost white-blond tresses fell back on either side of his broad shoulders, barely masking the tattoos spanning the whole length of his throat, the tribal ink designs disappearing into his ripped-neck black tee.
Sex. On legs. And Mandy hadn't even understood what that had meant till he walked in.
She marveled that her palms weren't all sweaty when he took her hand in his. And then when he gripped her wrist and lifted it to his nose, she'd felt the jarring sensation of lust shoot right up her arm to tingle at her nerve endings. How a man could exude such sensual appeal from just a light touch had Mandy's head reeling. Her chemical reaction to Ethan Tyler's presence, looks, and touch told her she may not be as ready for a life in showbiz as she'd imagined.