Robin Kaye - Too Hot to Handle

Sourcebooks Casablanca An I mprint of Sourcebooks, I nc.* Napekville , I llinois

Copyright 2009 by Robin Kaye

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Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

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Friends are my favorite characters to write. They're the people who tell it like it is, hold your feet to the fire, love you, laugh and cry with you, and share your joys and sorrow as well as their own.

Friends are a huge part of my life, and I've been blessed with the best friends a woman could have, so here's to you.

Gregory Olsen, Cary Dominguez, Charlie Dodge, Ken and Dianne Tyson, Millie Gemando , Leslie Hourdas , Jennifer Griffith, Cheryl McKissick , Becky Hazel, Rhonda Plumber, Deb Barger, Debbie Styne , Jennifer Shark, Kevin Dibley , Ana DaSilva , Dalia Schulman, Amy Green-Phillips, Robin Linear, Jeannde Hersom , and April Line.

Chapter 1

Ghosts don't have sex, do they? Annabelle Ronaldi wasn't 100 percent sure of the answer. Floating between sleep and wakefulness after a night of way too much champagne, she figured she'd either had mind-blowing sex with the ghost of her dead boyfriend, Chip, or his double. She crossed her fingers for the latter.

She'd only slept with two men, so the chances she'd increased that number by 50 percent beat the hell out of the odds of her waking with a ghostespecially when she thought about it in a semisober state. A state she hadn't been in the night before.

She had to admit her relationship with Chip would have been a lot better if he'd been half as good in bed alive as his ghost was last nightif, in fact, it was Chip's ghost sleeping beside her. Which brought her back to her initial question regarding the ability of ghosts to have sexreally, really good sex.

Annabelle opened her eyes and screamed. Loud.

The guy asleep next to her awoke and sat straight up as she jumped out of bed. "My God, you're real." Yep, definitely real, and very much alive.

He stared at her with such heat she was surprised she wasn't incinerated. Which, under the circumstances, would be preferable to standing there like an idiot. An idiot wearing nothing but a blue garter. She ripped the sheet off the bed, leaving him naked, only he didn't look like an idiot. On the contrary, he looked big and um happy to see her. Very happy. Annabelle was speechless.

"Belle." He scooted toward her. She backed away until she hit the dresser with a thunk . Belle? Chip never called her Belle. If she hadn't almost totally dismissed the whole ghost question as a possibility, being called Belle would have cinched it.

"Hey, take it easy. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Mike. Mike Flynn, your brother-in-law's best friend; we met at the wedding. You look like you've seen a ghost."

"No kidding." He didn't seem like the ax murderer type, not that she knew what that type looked like, but she was pretty sure it required an ax, and he didn't have one or anywhere to hide one either. She found herself staring at him. Probably not the polite thing to do. Annabelle took a deep breath and moved the direction of her stare past his washboard abs and nice chest, straight to the eyes of Chip's double. He looked almost exactly like Chip, a.k.a. Christopher Edmond Van Dyke Larsen, except for the eye color, a slight bump on his nose, and the size of a certain appendage.

" Hi um."

"Mike. Mike Flynn."

"I knew that." You'd think she'd offered to sell him the Brooklyn Bridge , and he wasn't buying. "I've never done this before"

"This, meaning brought home a nice guy, had mind-boggling, earth-shattering, world-rocking sex?" He winked at her. "Yeah, if it makes you feel any better, I don't make a habit of it eitherespecially the part where the beautiful woman can't remember my name. Aside from that, I can't think of a more pleasurable morning."

Annabelle's wish to disappear wasn't happening, so she had no choice other than to deal with whatever this was.

"Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when you're embarrassed? Well, you're pretty much beautiful all the time."

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. "So, we really did, um, you know?"

"Oh yeah. Several times."

Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. Maybe he didn't look and sound like Chip. Maybe she'd had a mental breakdown. Lord knew, with everything she'd been through recently, taking a vacation from reality wouldn't be that big of a stretch.

Pictures of the two of them stumbling through her new apartment undressing each other flitted through her mind like a grainy sex video. She winced again as she remembered the sound of ripping fabric and her bubbling laughter when she'd realized her little black dress had suddenly become a lot smaller. If her memory was correct, she was surprised her dress hadn't spontaneously combusted from the heat they'd generated.

"You want me to give you some time? I'll take Dave for a walk."

"How do you know Rosalie's dog?"

"I'm Nick's best friend, remember? I've known Dave since Nick and Rosalie got together."

"Oh, right."

"I'll take Dave out, pick up some breakfast, and then we can talk, and you know, do the first date thing."

"The first date thing?"

"Yeah, you tell me your middle name. I'll tell you mine. We can do a fast run-through of our families, occupations, and the normal stuff. Then, us sleeping together won't seem so premature."

"It won't?"

"Well, like I said, I don't make a habit of ravishing women within hours of meeting them. In fact, it's never happened before. I figure exchanging the first date info is worth a try. What do you say?"

"Okay." She squeezed her eyes shut and thought he'd leaveat least temporarily. Then he moved closer and cupped her face in his hands. Before it registered in her addled mind, he pressed soft kisses on her eyelids, then her lips. She opened her eyes, and he smiled at her as if she were the most adorable creature on earth. The man obviously needed to get out more.

Mike brushed one more kiss on her shoulder, which seemed to be hardwired to her nipples. Her breath caught in her throat, and Mike gave her a very satisfied smile before he searched for his clothes.

She had never seen that satisfied a smile on any man she'd shared a bed with. Though, it's not like she'd slept with many men. There was Chip, then ugh Johnny, and now um. Mike. Right, Mike.

Dave, the dog she was watching until her sister came back from her honeymoon, strolled into the bedroom with a pair of jockey shorts in his mouth. She'd hazard a guess they were Mike's. She winced. "Sorry about that."

Mike pulled on his gray pinstripe suit pants and zipped them. "Hey, have you seen my shirt?"

"It's in the living room."

"Ah, so now you remember. Sure helps the ole bruised and battered ego."

Before she could think of anything to say, the phone rang. Annabelle peeked at the clock. Since it was still early, it must be Becca. "I'm sorry"