Too Hot to Handle by Robin Kaye

From the Publisher

He sure would love to have someone to take care of...

Dr. Mike Flynn's single mom taught him early how to cook and clean, and there's nothing like vacuuming or doing dishes to help a guy relax. Annabelle Ronaldi is an artist without a domestic bone in her body. Since her fiance's death, she can't paint, and life looks hopeless.

Until the day after her sister's wedding, when she wakes up with Mike next to her in bed, and then she's really beside herself - because the handsome stranger is a dead ringer for her dead fiance.

After their mind-blowing one night stand, Mike is sure this is the woman he wants to take care of forever, but she acts like she's seen a ghost. While Mike sets to work wooing Annabelle, she sets to work sniffing out the truth of the convoluted family secret that turns everybody's lives upside down.

PRAISE FOR ROMEO, ROMEO:

"The main characters in this all-around feel-good read have so much personality they almost jump off the page."
The Romantic Times (4 out of 5 star review)

"Robin Kaye strikes gold… and deserves to have her name added to your favorite new author list."
Book Loons

"A snappy, funny, vivid, and romantic story."
AllAboutRomance.com

"Robin Kaye is sure to leave readers looking for a good Italian meal and a man as delicious as the hero."
BookPage

"Kaye's debut is a delightfully fun, witty romance, making her a writer to watch."
Booklist

"Kaye's portrayal of modern romance against the background of an old-fashioned, gossipy extended family rings true, and Nick's efforts to wow Rosalie with fabulous homecooking are endlessly entertaining."
Publishers Weekly

"Kaye's writing is a refreshing change from the typical contemporary romance. I could see all the characters as real people showing real feelings with an ending that is truly believable..."
I Just Finished Reviews

Publishers Weekly

Kaye's 2008 debut, Romeo Romeo, got such a warm reception that she's written it again, from the mistaken identities to the messy Brooklyn apartment. The only real surprise is the heroine: the repellent Annabelle Ronaldi, whose sister starred in the previous title. The morning after her sister's wedding, Annabelle awakens next to Dr. Mike Flynn, who bears an eerie resemblance to Annabelle's dead boyfriend, Chip. Mike, unlike Annabelle, makes a believable protagonist, and his interactions with patients provide some of the story's most heartwarming scenes. Kaye's intermittent attempts to create psychological depth, however, sit oddly with the dishy one-liners that dominate her prose. The story of a sensitive guy who cooks and cleans for an outspoken modern woman was cute and sparkly the first time around, but this year-old Champagne has lost its fizz. (May)

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Excerpt from 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 ghost—especially 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 night—if, 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 sex—really, 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 ghostquestion 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'veseen 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 mindboggling, 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 either—especially 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.