Alana’s legs shook as she paced the cement walkway in front of the hotel.

“It’s only one drink, Al.” Kate stood on the edge of the grass, staring at her while she went back and forth, back and forth. “If you don’t go in there and see him, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

True. Tonight had already been the most exhilarating night of her existence. The opportunity to meet with one of the world’s most famous guitarists would never come around again, especially if she continued to live in seclusion on her mother’s property.

“But what if…” There were too many “what ifs” coursing through her mind. What if he expected more than a drink? What if he didn’t take no for an answer? What if the whole band was there and they wanted to share her around like a bottle of soda at a kid’s birthday party?

She’d lost count of how many pieces of teeny, tiny panties had been thrown on stage during the performance. At one point Alana worried the entire crowd would be naked by the end of the show. And none of the band members paid them any attention. Being gifted with used female underwear must be a common occurrence.

“What if what?” Kate tapped her foot. “I’ll be there with you. It’s not like he can make you do anything you don’t want to do. Your mother’s brainwashed you into thinking men are douche bags. And for the most part, she’s right, but you can’t go through life hiding behind her bad experiences.”

Alana growled in frustration and clenched her fists. Kate was right. She needed to toughen up. Her friend wasn’t bullying her, she was trying to beat away the uncertainty and insecurities Alana’s mother had crammed into her since birth. Christ. She already knew how to kick an attacker’s ass. Her pepper spray was firmly in her jeans pocket next to her cell phone, and they would be in a highly populated hotel in the middle of the city. What could go wrong?

“Fine.” She breathed out a sigh. “Let’s do this.”

“About time,” Kate mumbled and turned to walk toward the hotel entrance.

Alana was going to do this. She would walk into the lobby, search for a celebrity who appeared far more stunning than any other man she’d seen in real life, and try like hell not to vomit on his shoes. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

“Oh, for the love of god.” Kate turned and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you fucking serious?”

“He told me earlier the security guard would come get me, and he never showed. Maybe he changed his mind.”

Kate breathed out a calming breath. “Mitchell Davies is a rock legend.” She raised her eyebrows. “He is sex on a stick. He makes my ovaries sigh. And you’ve stood here bitching like a fifth grader for the last twenty minutes. All this anxiety over a man any sensible woman would be inside dry humping right now.” Kate gave her a forced smile. “You’re going to go in there. You’re going to blow his mind, and you won’t be coming back out unless I say so.”

At least she kept the blowing part above the belt.

Alana gave a slow nod. “Ohh kay.”

They walked side-by-side into the glamorous lobby, around the closed coffee shop, and past the small groups of fans yet to leave the hotel. There was no sign of Mitchell or any of the other band members. With each passing moment, she grew more eager to find him, if only to see his flirty smile one last time—and his eyes. He had the sweetest eyes.

After fifteen minutes of searching, Alana sighed and came to a stop yards from the entrance doors. “He’s gone, and so has the security guard from earlier.” She gave one last visual sweep of the room before focusing back on Kate. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

Kate glanced at her watch and shrugged. “Yeah. It’s already one. Let’s go home so I can get a few hours’ sleep before I have to get up for work.”

Alana hadn’t taken more than two steps toward the exit when the hairs on the back of her neck lifted.

“Hey!” The male shout came from the other side of the lobby.

She knew who the voice belonged to before she glanced over her shoulder. The tone was unmistakable, even though they’d only previously shared a few words. Her feet rooted in place while Kate turned back around. The enthusiastic smile that crossed her friend’s face made Alana’s body shut down. She was entirely numb. Frozen.

“It’s him,” Kate whispered, her lips barely moving.

Alana gave a slow nod, and swallowed down the nausea pooling in her throat. She could act cool. She didn’t have a lot of experience talking to men. In fact, she’d only spoken to five people of the opposite sex in the last twelve months. But she could do this.

“Start breathing before you pass out…and smile. You’ll do great.” Kate squeezed her shoulder and encouraged her to face him with a little push.

Alana pivoted on her toes while time passed in excruciating seconds. He walked toward her wearing the same cap from earlier and a fresh change of clothes. All laidback confidence and wordless charm. Their gazes met. Locked. He stared at her with gleaming hazel eyes and a cheeky grin that made her insides melt.

And he wasn’t alone.

Another band member walked beside him, the guitarist with the raven, spiky hair and tattoos marking both arms. His eyes were blacker than night, dark and ensnaring, yet he had a cocky smirk that made her smile.

“It’s Blake and Mitch!” The scream came from a group of five females hovering near the hall to the function room.

Neither man flinched at the attention. It wasn’t until then she realized four more men strolled behind them, protecting the rock stars from a distance.

Blake gave a wave to the hyperventilating women who were being encouraged to stay back by hotel security. He leaned into Mitchell, spoke something in his ear, then changed direction and strode toward the growing crowd.

Alana glanced back at the man who stole her breath, his presence now only feet away, and swallowed at the intensity in his gaze. His eyes devoured her, caressing her body from her hair to her toes. She wasn’t sure how he did it, but she could feel his gaze raking over her, sending every nerve into hyperawareness.

“Hey.” His smooth tone made her breasts tingle—and places much lower too.

“Hi, Mitch.” Kate’s voice was bubbly and off pitch.

Alana looked at her and wondered if her friend realized she was bouncing on her toes like a child on a sugar high. She frowned at her and received a glare in return. Kate jerked her head toward Mitchell, wordlessly instructing Alana to greet the world famous musician.

“Hello,” she offered and reached out her hand before thinking better of it. Did people still shake hands?

He glanced at her offering and grasped it in his own. His fingers were large, making hers appear childlike. Instead of greeting her in the way she expected, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Fire sliced through her chest, and a moan echoed between them. More than three seconds passed before she realized Kate had been the one to make the noise.

“Can I buy you both a drink?” He didn’t let go of her hand, just continued to stare into her eyes.

She glanced at Kate to break the connection and breathed through her anxiety. She hoped he couldn’t sense the way her palm began to sweat.

Kate raised her brows. “It’s up to you, Al.”

“Al.” Her name came from his lips in a barely audible whisper, and she couldn’t fight the need to turn her gaze back to him. “Sorry. I’ve been wondering what your name was all night.”

She pressed her lips together to hide her elation. Mitchell Davies, a man better designed than seemed humanly fair, had been thinking about her name. All night long.

Her insides tingled in a mix of excitement and apprehension. Her mother had taught her not to trust a gorgeous face, yet she easily melted into his touch. She was a slave to his testosterone. A novice who was looking up to a master. “Alana Shelton,” she corrected, and cheered inwardly when her voice didn’t waver.

He squeezed her hand before letting it go. “Nice to properly meet you, Alana.”

* * *

“Let’s get that drink.” Mitch needed to concentrate on something other than the lightest green eyes he’d ever seen. They were more than stunning. They were intoxicating. He felt drugged by their gentle hold, unable to look away.

“Hey, Mitch.” Blake called out, and jogged toward them. “Ladies,” he greeted with a wave.

Jealousy washed over him, thick and rich, when Alana flashed her dimples at his best friend.

“Hi,” she offered in the sweetest, most endearing tone.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment at the saccharine sound. He was in trouble. Big. Huge. Fucking gargantuan trouble. Had it really been that long since he’d been infatuated with a woman? He glanced at Alana and continued to wonder if there’d ever been a female to gain his interest so fast, or so thoroughly.

“Oh, my gosh. Blake Kennedy. Hi…I’m Kate.”

Blake chuckled at Alana’s friend. She was the typical star-struck groupie. They’d both become accustomed to this response from people. They’d learned how to react and kept their mouths shut on any information they didn’t want made public. The best course of action was to convince themselves the fans were infatuated with the music, not the band members themselves, even though they both knew it was a lie.

He still hadn’t been able to classify Alana into the star-struck category yet. He couldn’t determine if her timid nature came from being excited to meet him or something else entirely. He was hoping for the latter. Hoping so hard it made his stomach churn.

“Alana, this is Blake, the bass guitarist for Reckless Beat.”

“Nice to meet you.” Alana offered her hand and Blake gave it a firm shake.

“You too, Alana. I’d kiss your knuckles like my boy Mitch did, but I think he might castrate me in my sleep.”

Blake winked at him, and Mitch glared in return. Smart-ass mother trucker had been watching him while signing autographs with his pack of fangirls.

Alana lowered those gleaming eyes with a smile, and he caught sight of her dimples. Damn, she was cute. He stepped closer, ran his hand along her shoulders, and pulled her into his side. She stiffened, her back snapping ramrod straight, poised on the brink of doing a runner. His heart stopped. Maybe he shouldn’t have touched her again. He peered down at her and hoped for the best. “Time for a drink?”

She gave a jerky nod and kept her gaze lowered.

“I’m going to head upstairs.” Blake gave them a wave.

Mitch bit his lip to keep from laughing at Kate. The poor woman’s face changed from cartoonish elation to utter grief. He suppressed a laugh and turned to his best friend, covertly tilting his head toward the grieving woman, hoping he would get the hint.

“Ahh.” Blake stared back at him with a frown, and then glanced toward the third wheel. “Umm.” He raised his palms in question. “You wanna come upstairs and…” He shrugged at Kate with a confounded expression.

Blake didn’t drink. So apart from getting naked or watching television, there wouldn’t be much else for them to do. Although Mitch was certain she wouldn’t protest if asked to take her clothes off.

Alana sucked in a breath, and he tried not to grip her tighter in comfort.

“Yes.” Blake’s new friend nodded with enthusiasm. “Will you be all right, Al?”

Mitch’s heart stopped for the seconds it took her to give a soft nod. “I won’t bite,” he whispered in her ear.

His words didn’t have the effect he’d hoped for. Instead of receiving a smile or catching another glimpse of her dimples, she swallowed hard and gave a jerky nod.

He didn’t understand her, couldn’t put her puzzle pieces together to make the picture fit.

They stood in the middle of the foyer, two bodyguards hovering feet away, while Blake and Kate strolled to the elevator. When they pressed the button and the doors opened, Alana sighed and glanced up at him with a wavering smile. “I’m going to need that drink.”

He chuckled and continued to stare at her. Loose strands of warm brown hair cupped her face, and her deep pink lips demanded to be kissed. Rather than fulfilling his body’s need to taste her, he dropped his arm from her shoulder, grabbed her hand, and led her toward the hotel bar.

“Davies, you asshole!” a voice yelled from behind them.

Mitch turned. Steve stalked toward them, his chest heaving. The two bodyguards cut off his approach, forcibly pushing at his shoulders to get him to back off.

“You got me fired, you arrogant prick.”

Alana gasped. The defenseless sound punched his protective nature to the forefront, and he stepped forward to block her from view.

“Go home, Steve.” He didn’t trust the glazed look in the man’s eyes.

“Fuck you.” Steve spat on the floor and gave him the double bird.

Mitch shook his head in disgust and turned his back, cupping Alana’s shoulder to encourage her inside the bar.

Before they stepped through the entryway, a shout from the guards made him tense. “Mitch!”

On instinct, he shielded Alana’s back and propelled them forward. A large glass vase flew past the side of his head, into the wall in front of them, hitting with a loud thwack. He jerked back as pieces of glass peppered his face, leaving tiny bites of pain. His grip on Alana loosened, and she dropped to the floor. She whimpered, the soft sound dissolving his shock and sharpening his focus.

“Alana, are you hurt?” He glanced down at her crumpled on her knees, her hair, shoulders, and back now covered with glistening shards of the shattered vase.

His lungs tightened with each passing second that she didn’t respond. He dropped down behind her and winced at the stab of glass through his cargo pants. Hovering over her, he covered her body and glanced over his shoulder. His bodyguards were dragging Steve to the floor, their knees in his back.

When the threat to their safety vanished, he moved in front of her, the broken glass crunching under his feet. He stared at the shaking hands covering her eyes, and his chest started to throb. The visible skin around her cheeks held tiny scratches with bright red blood. “Alana?”

Still no response.

He placed a hand on her forearm, and she jerked at the touch. Damn, what the hell should he do?

“Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.” He picked pieces of glass from her hair and wiped them from her shoulders. Relief flooded him when she didn’t continue to flinch. He needed to keep himself busy, otherwise the fractures in his panic would deepen, and he’d cause a bigger scene.

Her breathing came in ragged pants. She pulled her hands an inch away from her face and lifted her gaze to look straight through him with rapidly blinking eyes. He supported her shoulders and tried to blow away the glitter of glass particles from her cheeks. The brush of his breath pulled another cry of pain from her throat, and she covered her hands over her face again.

“Christ.” He was useless, with no concept of what to do. “Alana, please, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong.” He’d tried to protect her and failed.

“My eyes.” Her voice broke.

“Is she all right?” Mitch glanced at one of the male hotel staff who knelt beside them.

She let out a sob. “I can’t see.”