It started off as a battle of wits. Me: the ordinary girl with a big mouth against Him: the sexy bastard with a big…ego.
I thought I’d hit the jackpot when I was upgraded to first class on my flight to London.
That is until HE sat down next to me. Gabriel Scott: handsome as sin, cold as ice. Nothing and no one gets to him. Ever. He’s a legend in his own right, the manager of the biggest rock band in the world, and an arrogant ass who looks down his nose at me.
I thought I’d give him hell for one, long flight. I didn’t expect to like him. I didn’t expect to want him. But the biggest surprise? He wants me too. Only in a way I didn’t see coming.
If I accept his proposal, I leave myself open to falling for the one man I can’t manage. But I’m tempted to say yes. Because the real man beneath those perfect suits and that cool façade just might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I just might be the only one who can melt the ice around his heart.
Let the battle begin…
“She is dangerous because I can’t control her. And she is utterly beautiful, like molten glass that tempts you to touch even though you know you’ll get burned.”
“Pictures capture moments in time. I want this one–when you finally let me see a sliver of the man behind the clothes.”
“I’ve lived my whole life denying myself what I truly want. And yet I can not turn from you. Haven’t you realized it yet? I am yours. I will always be yours, whether I touch you or not.”
I did not think it would be possible to love a book as much as I loved this one. From the moment I was introduced to Scottie and Sophie, I fell in love. Their banter was so entertaining. Sophie was one that was not afraid to say what she was thinking and just loved getting a rise out of Scottie. Scottie was dangerous. He was sexy, broody even with his British accent. He was so refined, serious, never one to play. Being stuck next to Sophie on his flight turned out to be the best thing that ever happened. Seriously, I could not get enough of the interactions between the two of them. I just wanted to keep reading, so I could keep seeing them together. Then you add their amazing chemistry and slow burn of their relationship, and I gotta tell you, I was just hooked. The push and pull between these two was off the charts. Sophie brought out a part of Scottie that I don’t think even he knew existed. She made him want to live and experience life. She reminded him of what it was like to have fun and brought so much light into his life. Not to mention, she brought out this total alpha side in him that was hotter than ever!! Seriously though, the emotions and feelings between these two were just so palpable and so deep. I. Could. Not. Get. Enough.
Managed was so much more than I ever expected. This is the kind of romance that I just live for. The romance between Scottie and Sophie was slow building, but oh so swoon worthy. It was so real and so worth the wait. I just loved it.
What else can I tell you about Managed? Well, the writing is just incredible. It is entertaining. It is captivating. And is down right swoon worthy. This story has the perfect balance of angst, drama and romance. This story is going to make you laugh out loud, it is going to frustrate the hell out of you, but most importantly, you are going to fall in love. This is one of those stories that I wish would never end and one that I could definitely see myself re-reading many times.
I hope that you will take a chance on Managed and fall in love with the characters and the story just as I have.
*I was provided with an ARC copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review*
In all this time, I had yet to see Gabriel without a shirt. He hides his body like a pious Victorian, never letting me see anything other than him fully dressed and polished. Now I know why. Had he let me get a glimpse, I might never have been able to form a coherent thought around him.
This man’s chest is a work of art. It’s every fantasy I’ve had about a man’s body made real. I don’t even know how that’s possible, but I’m not about to complain. God, he looks touchable. Olive skin, tight little brownish nipples, a smattering of dark chest hair over the most incredibly honed—
“You’re staring.” His tone is dry.
“Yes, I am.” I drag my eyes up and find his expression bemused.
A thick brow lifts. I try to mimic the look and fail when both of my brows lift as one. His lips twitch in amusement.
He shifts his weight, causing his abs to clench. Good Lord. He’s not some overdeveloped gym worshiper, just solid and strong, that perfect balance between defined musculature and healthy male—
“You’re still staring, Sophie.”
“You think it’s easy looking away from all this splendor?” I ask his belly button, licking my lips when he huffs out a laugh and just a little bit more of his lower abs are revealed, slanting toward the thick bulge of his cock, which is lamentably hidden behind his slacks.
“You’re impossible,” he mutters, though there is humor in his voice. He strolls farther into the room and then practically kills me when he sits in one of the low-slung armchairs. That body, sprawled out on display, those thick, long thighs braced as if to take me in his lap—it’s too much.
I want to straddle him and lick my way from the hollow of his throat to the tip of his cock.
He eyes me as if he knows what I’m thinking, and the air thickens. So many things we left unsaid. I’m remembering his lips now, surprisingly soft, but strong with purpose.
From the way his lids lower, I wonder if he’s remembering things as well. But he doesn’t move. Tension glides over his body and snakes around the room. I feel it in my throat and down my spine. We’re closing up again, retreating.
Slowly, I toe off my shoes and set my gear down, never breaking eye contact. “I was being completely honest,” I tell him. “I see you like this and I want to stare forever.”
He snorts, shaking his head even as he rests his temple on his knuckles. “What do you mean ‘like this’?”
He tenses. It does lovely things to that chest. I focus on his face, mainly to maintain some semblance of decorum.
“You think this is me undone?” he asks quietly.
“It’s a start.” I reach for my camera bag. “Will you let me photograph you?”
There is safety to be found with the camera between us. A way for both of us to hide until we’re comfortable around each other again.
“You sound surprised.” Holding my camera, I sit in the sofa opposite him. “Don’t tell me no one has asked to take your picture before.”
“They’ve asked. I never saw the point.” He shrugs. “I’m not the story.”
You’re my story. You always were.
“This is just for me,” I say instead. “No one else.”
His shrewd gaze pins me. “Why do you want this?”
So I can have a bit of you forever. “Pictures capture moments in time. I want this one—when you finally let me see a sliver of the man behind the clothes.”
His nostrils flare on an indrawn breath, and he slowly lets it out. When he speaks, his voice is a rasp. “Take the pictures.”
Kristen Callihan is an author because there is nothing else she’d rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT Reviewer’s Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publisher’s Weekly and the Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book FIRELIGHT received RT Magazine’s Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal , best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.