"Sexy "second chance at love" story!"
Reviewed by Miranda Owen
Posted October 21, 2014
Romance Contemporary | Romance Erotica Sensual
HER HOT NUMBER by Talia Hunter will appeal to readers who
enjoy "second chance" romances as well as romances with a
wealthy hero. Caylee Reynolds and Blake Sampson meet by
chance after not seeing each other since their teens. They
each have some mixed emotions about meeting due to a huge
misunderstanding. She thinks he loved her, stole from her,
then left her. He thinks that she decided he wasn't good
enough to keep in touch with over the years. Each are
nursing a broken heart. I like that Blake is just as
affected by Caylee as she is by him.
The backdrop to this emotionally powerful and sexy romance
is Blake's lush island resort. I like that Talia Hunter
throws the two together and has Caylee have to rely on
Blake since her luggage was lost. I also like that the
story is told from both points of view. I think this is
crucial, since Blake is a villain in Caylee's memories.
Talia Hunter makes Blake a three-dimensional and
sympathetic character. I'm glad that Blake never tries to
make excuses for any obnoxious behavior from his teenage
self. He acknowledges that he didn't act right all the
time
but he has grown and matured. This self-awareness on his
part and his affection for Caylee make him a good hero.
HER HOT NUMBER is not all drama and reliving the past.
There are some fun and sexy moments between Caylee and
Blake, like when he takes her shopping or when they go out
on his boat. The sexual tension is intense and leads to
some extremely steamy encounters. The situation involving
Caylee's struggle to fund her academic career is
interesting without distracting from the romance itself.
HER HOT NUMBER is a hot romance between two characters
with
a complicated history. I look forward to reading more
books
by Talia Hunter. I hope to read about Caylee's sister in a
future story.
SUMMARY
It's a travel nightmare for mathematician Caylee Reynolds.
It's bad enough that her luggage was lost en route to her
conference, but when she arrives at the Australian resort
and learns that she's also lost her reservation, Caylee’s
ready to break down. Then things get even worse. The
resort
is owned by Blake Sampson―the bad boy who once took
everything from her... Blake thought he’d left his troubled past far behind him.
Then the sexy-but-proper math guru he’s never been able to
forget walks into his lobby. Hoping to show Caylee he’s
changed, he offers to share his suite. Except the
attraction
between them only grows in such close
quarters―exponentially. Even though Blake’s incredibly successful—and hot—Caylee’s
not sure she can risk her heart again. Not after the way
he
destroyed her trust when he disappeared years ago. But if
she's wrong in her calculations, she could lose
everything...
ExcerptChapter One
"At last." Caylee checked the time as the taxi pulled up
to the Samson Resort. She had to blink to get her sore,
exhausted eyes to focus on her watch. It was one o'clock in
the morning. She'd been traveling for twenty-three long
hours, when she'd calculated the journey would take just
sixteen. "Been a long trip?" asked the taxi driver sympathetically,
taking the Australian dollars she held out to him. "Like being dragged through an endless hell," she agreed. He frowned. "I noticed you've no luggage?" "The airline lost it." "Well, I sure hope everything gets better for you from now on." "Thank you." As she slid out of the air-conditioned taxi, the heat
slammed into Caylee's body, instantly tugging perspiration
from every pore. She'd dressed so she'd be warm enough for
the plane, and her arrival outfit was in the front
compartment of her missing suitcase: a light dress neatly
folded between sheets of tissue paper to stop it from
creasing. She could picture it in her luggage, circling the
conveyor belt at some other airport. Timbuktu, perhaps. Caylee strode into the resort lobby, gasping with relief as
another cold blast of air conditioning hit her. At this late
hour, the only sound was water trickling over rocks from the
water feature in the corner. As weary and fed up as she was,
she took a moment to smooth down her shirt while she glanced
around. There were some small stores off the lobby selling souvenirs
and tourist basics, and even a hair salon. Unfortunately
none of them were open or she could have picked up some
things she needed. Like toothpaste. Knowing she'd last
cleaned her teeth three meals ago made her feel dirty, let
alone when she ran her tongue across them and felt that
horrible stale furriness. At least she'd be able to finally get some sleep. Every
aching muscle in her body was begging to lie down and
stretch out, and being so exhausted made her thoughts fuzzy
and far too emotional. Tomorrow she'd get on the phone and make sure she got her
suitcase back, especially the papers she was presenting at
the conference. Those papers were all that really mattered,
as her presentation had to be flawless. Her research funding
was under review and the man in charge of deciding whether
to continue her funding would be assessing her. If she
didn't impress him, he could cut off her main source of income. A single clerk was on duty behind the massive reception
desk. "Welcome to Sunset Island." She glanced at his name tag. "Hello, Ivan. I'm Caylee
Reynolds, and I have a room booked for three nights." He looked down at his screen, his fingers moving over the
keyboard. Then his face dropped. "Oh, Miss Reynolds, I'm so
sorry. We thought you weren't coming." Caylee froze, her stomach clenching. She couldn't deal with
any more bad news. Not now, after all she'd been through.
"Please tell me you have a room waiting for me." Her
voice was almost a whisper. "You were supposed to arrive on this afternoon's ferry. We
waited until midnight." He looked stricken. "We had to give
your room away. This week we have a big wedding scheduled as
well as your conference, and I've got a waiting list of
people wanting accommodation." "But my plane to Cairns was delayed and they lost my bag. I
missed the connecting flight to Hamilton Island and then the
ferry, so I had to arrange for another boat to bring me
across, and then a taxi from the wharf..." "I'm very sorry, miss. If only you'd called, we'd have held
a room for you." Caylee took a deep breath. Her cell phone was in her lost
luggage. The strap of her handbag had broken at the airport
and spilled its contents onto the floor, so she'd put most
of the things she usually carried with her into her suitcase
instead. Now the only things she had were her ereader and
her passport. Her credit cards were in the suitcase with her
phone. It was lucky she'd tucked the Australian dollars from
the currency change booth into her one small pocket, or she
wouldn't have gotten here at all. She fought to keep her voice calm. Tears pricked at the
backs of her eyes, but she forced them away. Becoming
emotional never helped. "I didn't call because I didn't have
access to a telephone. Now, I'm very sorry to trouble you,
but could you please look again to see if there's a room
available? Any room, I don't care if it hasn't been cleaned,
or if I have to move out of it in the morning." Ivan looked down at his computer screen, tapping with his
fingers for a long couple of minutes. She could already tell
it was bad news before he spoke again. "I'm sorry." "But where am I going to sleep?" He shook his head helplessly. "I'm afraid there's nowhere
else on the island. But I could call a hotel on the mainland
and arrange a room for you there. A water taxi could take
you back." "Another hour of traveling?" In spite of her resolve, her
voice quivered. "It's been thirty hours since I last slept.
I'm so exhausted I feel sick from it, and please, I just
need a bed. Any bed." The tears forced themselves out
against her will, hot and spurting, and she lost all
remnants of control. "I don't even care if I have to share
the bed. Please, I'll do anything. Just find me a place to
lie down." "Now that does sound tempting." A low male voice came from
behind her. Caylee jerked around. The man who'd spoken was rough-looking with messy, uncombed
hair and old clothes. He stood with an arrogant confidence
that made it seem like he took up more space than he had any
right to. He had a deep tan and sun-lightened brown hair,
and the edge of a tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve of
his faded T-shirt. He stared at her, studying her intently. His face was both
strikingly handsome and carelessly unshaven. She looked away
so as not to encourage his attention. Who did he think he
was, examining her so boldly? Wasn't it bad enough she'd
started weeping in public without him staring? She sniffed,
wiping at the tears, struggling to get herself together. "Caylee Reynolds?" the man asked in an amazed tone.
"Is that you?" What? Her gaze jerked back. She looked past the messy
too-long hair and the stubble and felt a terrible jolt of
recognition. Though his eyes were the soft blue of faded
denim, they seemed to probe right into hers. A smile played
around his full lips, and suddenly she knew exactly
how mocking and teasing that smile could get. No,
it couldn't be him. Caylee's gaze dropped to his
legs. He was wearing shorts, and his long, muscular legs
were so tanned that she almost couldn't see if he had a...
There. Yes, that was it all right. A line across the
front of his shin, a scar so faint she wouldn't have noticed
it if she didn't know it was there. A scar she'd given him.
A parting gift before he walked out of her life forever. "Blake Samson." Caylee's voice came out sounding flat and
cold as she straightened her back and wiped her eyes one
last time. Great. She never lost control like that,
and now she'd done it in front of Blake Samson—the boy
who'd taken her virginity, then ransacked her room and
stolen everything else that had mattered to her. Blake
Samson was a cold-hearted thief. "What are you doing here?"
she demanded. He motioned to the hotel name printed on the wall behind the
reception desk. Samson Resort. "Welcome to my place, Caylee." Blake owned the resort? He'd done better than she'd ever
have expected. Although maybe she shouldn't be so
surprised—he'd proven himself ruthless enough to take
what he wanted, and that was probably an advantage when it
came to getting ahead in business. But it was rotten luck
that of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the
world, she had to walk into his. Seemed her traveling really
had brought her right into the center of hell. Who'd have
guessed the devil had blue eyes and a wide, white smile? Chapter Two
Caylee Reynolds. Damn, he could hardly believe it was
her. Blake had thought about her often after he'd left town
to go and live with his uncle, and now here she was,
standing in his lobby, looking at him like she'd stuck a
fork in her salad and found a slug. Guess he couldn't blame
her. But really, all he'd done was what any normal teenage
boy did when he secretly had the hots for the girl next
door—he'd made her life miserable. That was, until the
one incredible night when they'd made love. But that was a lifetime ago and he'd never have believed
he'd bump into Caylee Reynolds in Australia, the other side
of the world. She'd been pretty then and she was goddamn
beautiful now. She was still small, with long black hair and
dark eyes that could fire out bullets and didn't blink
nearly often enough, but man, had she aged well or what? She
still dressed like a total geek, though, like she'd stepped
straight from the pages of Nerdy College Looks Magazine.
From her tight braid—not a hair out of place—to
her buttoned-up shirt and her sensible shoes below neat,
plain trousers. Some things didn't change. "Did I hear you say you need a room, Caylee? No problem. You
can share mine." "Share your room?" She said it like he'd suggested they rip off their clothes
and go at it in the lobby. Dammit, was that really what she
thought he meant? He hadn't seen her in—what was
it— twelve years? Yet here she was acting like he was
the same messed-up kid who'd tried so hard to get her
attention—albeit in all the wrong ways. Things had
changed since then. He'd changed. He'd done well for
himself, with four other beach resorts as well as this one.
Women were usually all too eager to share his room, and they
sure as hell didn't jump down his throat when he tried to
help them. "I have two bedrooms. You're welcome to one of them." A
prickle of pride made him add, "Or you can have the whole
suite. I've got friends on the island, so I can find
somewhere else to go for the night." She hesitated, giving him an up-and-down look that made his
fingers itch to reach up and smooth his wind-tangled hair.
Wasn't she sobbing a minute ago because she wanted a bed so
badly? So what was her problem? That he looked a little
ragged? Sure, he should have showered and changed after
being out on the Jet Ski, but when he got back he'd been
dragged straight into a Skype meeting to try to unravel the
mess the site manager was making of his new development, and
being covered with salt from his day on the water hadn't
seemed a problem. Until now. His jaw tightened. So this is how it was going to be?
Instantly branded a thug? Hell, he'd had enough judgment to
last him a lifetime, he didn't need any more from Miss
Perfect. If she couldn't see he was a different man now,
that was her problem. He didn't need to prove himself. She shook her head. "No, I don't want to put you out." "Fine. Go back to the mainland, and good luck getting a
water taxi this time of night. You'll be waiting a long time." She glanced at Ivan for confirmation and he made a rueful
face of agreement. As she turned back to Blake, her upright
posture slumped. "All right." Don't bust a gut with gratitude. He almost regretted
having made the offer at all. "Come on, I'll show you where
it is." He looked around but couldn't see any bags. "Where's
your luggage?" "Timbuktu, most likely." "You don't have anything?" She lifted the electronic tablet. "Just a couple of travel
guides, I'm afraid. Although, for this trip, a survival
guide might have been more useful." Huh. He'd forgotten about her sense of humor. She could be
pretty funny when she wasn't busy being so damn judgmental. Blake turned to Ivan, who was watching them like he would a
fascinating TV show. Ivan's mouth was even hanging open. His
eyes were fixed on Caylee, and when Blake followed his gaze,
he knew exactly what had the desk clerk so transfixed. At
first glance that prissy white shirt with its firmly done-up
buttons hid her body about as well as if she were wearing a
burka. But she'd moved back and the light shining out from
the water feature was illuminating her body, somehow making
the fabric transparent so the outline of her white bra was
clearly visible. His eyes drank in the swell of her breasts, feasting on the
beautiful shape, the perfect curves swelling out from her
tiny ribcage. He could even make out her nipples through the
sheer fabric of her bra, two soft points that he remembered
too well from the night he'd teased them with his tongue.
They'd gone so deliciously tight and hard when he'd run
his— Whoa! Where the hell did his mind go just then? He wasn't
eighteen anymore, and there was no way he was still
attracted to Caylee Reynolds, no matter how kissable her
breasts might be. She wasn't his type—far from it. And
she'd already made it clear how little she thought of him. "Ivan," growled Blake. The desk clerk's eyes snapped to Blake, his Adam's apple
bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Yessir?" "Miss Reynolds is going to use my suite. There'll be no
charge for her. She gets whatever she wants." "Yessir. Absolutely, sir." "Blake, I'd prefer to pay my own—" "This one's on me." Blake stepped forward, blocking the beam
of light from the water feature with his own body, and put
his hand on the curve of Caylee's back. It was a protective
gesture, as though he was claiming her for his own in front
of Ivan. He wasn't, of course, but he'd be damned if he'd
let that pimply little upstart of a desk clerk ogle her.
"Come on, Caylee." He led her to the elevator, and they rode to the top. His
suite was on the eighteenth floor, the penthouse. When he
took her inside, she stared with open admiration, and for a
moment it was as though he was also seeing it for the first
time. It was large, with bedrooms leading off a big living area
and kitchen. His work desk was in a study off the living
area, and there was a separate dining room with an ornate
table. But the interior, nice as it was, barely seemed to
matter in front of the double-height, floor-to-ceiling
windows and glass skylights that made it seem as though
there were no walls at all. It felt as if they were outside
on top of a mountain, drinking in a clear night sky which
stretched endlessly in front of them. This was the seaward side of the building, so during the day
the blue of sea and sky filled the room. At night, the stars
filled it by the millions, bright enough to see by and
almost close enough to touch. On the other side of the
building the lights of the Queensland coast were a long
twinkling line, but on this side there were no lights to dim
the beauty of the night sky. "Look at the moon," she gasped. He dragged in his breath when he saw it. So full and heavy
it seemed like it could fall out of the sky at any moment,
he thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful. Then he
looked at her face, lifted up to it, bathed in moonlight and
filled with wonder, and the moon was suddenly a dim,
second-best beauty. He wanted to tell her how stunning she
was in the moonlight...only she'd already made it pretty
clear she thought he was a jerk. He glanced away. Caylee
obviously hated him. He should leave her be. "This is incredible." She was turning slowly around, still
staring up at the sky. Blake crossed quickly to his bedroom to check it. Good, it
had been serviced while he was out, so it was neat and tidy,
even if he wasn't. "My stuff is in this room." Then he
pointed to the far side of the living room. "The other room
hasn't been touched. The linen is clean and the wardrobe is
empty." He nodded at her nearly empty hands. "Not that
you'll need the wardrobe yet." "Thank you." For the first time she smiled, an incredible,
wide smile that made her whole face glow as though lit from
inside. Blake could spend hours staring at a smile like
that. When it was gone, as quickly as it had come, the night
seemed darker and colder. Blake cleared his throat. "Right, I'll be going. Call down
to reception if you need anything." "Wait. You're not going to sleep here?" "I said I'd give you the place to yourself." "Don't be silly." She shook her head. "I won't throw you
out, that doesn't make sense. Two rooms. Two people. It
wouldn't be logical otherwise." "Do you always do the logical thing?" A pink flush stained her cheeks. "Obsessively," she admitted. Now it was his turn to hesitate. So far, their reunion
hadn't exactly gone well. Perhaps it would be better to wake
up John and Jenna and crash on their sofa. They'd put a good
face on, but Blake knew he'd be intruding. What a choice. He
could either ruin the no-doubt romantic plans of his best
friend and the woman he was about to marry, or share his own
suite with a woman who'd made it clear she thought he was
bad news. He gazed at Caylee, trying to make up his mind. Though she'd
turned into a gorgeous woman, he could still see the serious
girl who'd captivated him. Her house had been a loud,
chaotic mess, and Caylee had rebelled by making sure her
room was immaculate, her grades were straight A's, and her
emotions were always in tight control. Blake's house had been much worse. His parents had hated
each other, and his life had been an endless series of
screaming arguments and slamming doors. He used to escape
next door and distract himself by making a game of trying to
ruffle Caylee's quiet composure. That was, until the night
he'd called his uncle and begged him to let Blake come live
with him. His uncle had saved him, helped him turn his life around.
And though she didn't know it, Caylee had been the main
reason he hadn't imploded in the meantime. "Don't tell me," said Blake. "You're here for the math
conference? You're a mathematician?" "That's right." It made sense. She'd always seemed to like facts and figures
more than people. She'd devour her homework with complete
concentration, barely noticing him as he lay on her bed,
smoking cigarettes, drinking stolen beer, and watching her
study. He'd leave his empty beer cans on the floor of her
room, draw dirty pictures inside her textbooks, and flick
ash into her drawers. And the whole time, she'd be totally
absorbed in her work, figuring out long equations full of
Xs and Ys with a tiny frown imprinted between
her eyebrows. That was probably why he'd tried so hard to
get her attention. If she'd given it easily, he wouldn't
have wanted it so badly. "Fine," he said. "I'll stay." "I'm going to assume you have enough honor that you won't
try to sneak into my room." The idea of spending the night in her room sent heat through
his body. It was a delicious thought, even if it did stir
memories that were better left buried. And then she added, "Really, I'm so tired I think if you did
try something I'd sleep right through it." Blake let out an explosive laugh. He'd like to see her try!
He had a sudden urge to sweep her up and into his bed,
tearing loose those beautiful breasts he'd caught such a
tantalizing glimpse of, and making sure she didn't sleep for
hours. He cut off the thought quickly as warmth spread below
his belt and the blood pulsed to a part of his anatomy best
left sleeping. Shit, what was she doing to him? Caylee reddened, a flustered expression on her face. "I
don't know why I said that. I never say things like that." "You're exhausted." "It's been an awful day." She looked confused and tired, and
suddenly so fragile that his protective instinct swelled.
"There's a very real chance I'm going to lose my research
funding. My only chance to keep it is to impress the
chairman of the research foundation by giving a flawless
presentation, but the flash drive with my presentation on
it, my speech, and all my notes are in my missing suitcase.
Not to mention that I've got no toiletries, and just the
clothes I've got on—Oh!" She spread her hands out in a
hopeless gesture. "I have no contact lens solution." Her shoulders slumped and she looked utterly defeated. For
an instant he thought she might cry again, but then she
blinked and the moment was gone. Her back straightened and
she gave a tiny shake of her head, shaking the defeat away,
a determined look to her mouth. Damn if Caylee wasn't tougher than she looked. She might be
a tiny slip of a thing but she had a backbone, that was for
sure. "I'll see what I can find in the lobby stores for you to
wear, so you won't die from the heat in the morning. There
isn't much there, mainly sarongs and swim suits, but it'll
be better than what you've got on." "Thank you. That's very kind." She cocked her head to one
side as she examined Blake and he could almost see the
calculations going through her head. What did he add up to
in her eyes? Could she see the man he'd become, or was she
still multiplying in the screwed-up teenager who used to
drive her crazy? He turned away, shrugging off her examination by heading for
the door. He hated reminders of his past and, anyway, if
Caylee hadn't liked him back then, she wasn't about to start
now. Their night together had been a glitch in the matrix.
It had been all he could think about for months afterward,
but he'd never figured it out. His best guess was that her
sister Lana had put her up to it—it was far more her
style than Caylee's—or maybe Caylee had been curious
about slumming it with the troublemaker next door. Whatever the reason, she'd obviously regretted it. And no
matter how badly it hurt, he'd finally realized it was for
the best that she'd decided not to contact him afterward.
She was college-bound with a bright future. He was
struggling to pull his way out of the gutter. Besides, with
parents like his, he'd never be the commitment type. One of the perks of owning a resort was that he could choose
women to date who only wanted a short-term holiday fling.
Whenever he was tempted to look for anything more permanent
he just had to think of his parents' screaming matches to go
cold on the whole idea. Not to mention the fact that he had
more important things to think about right now, like the
clusterfuck the site manager was making of the groundwork
for his new resort in Indonesia. Even if there'd been a chance in hell that Caylee was up for
a repeat performance of their night together, he didn't need
that kind of complication right before he was due to leave.
No matter how much he might have dreamed about getting a
second chance with her over the years, he'd make sure to
keep his distance. Oh yeah, Blake? Then why are you so determined to pick
her out something pretty to wear from the store, even if you
have to break the damn window to get in? He clenched his fists as the elevator took him smoothly back
down to the lobby. He'd help her out for old times' sake,
but there was no way he was going to let a stuck-up
mathematician do a number on him. No way in the
world.
Copyright © 2014 by Talia Hunter. All rights reserved,
including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in
any form or by any means. For information regarding
subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
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