Risking It All: The Proposition / The Dare / The Favour / The P.I. / The Cop / The Defender

11

WHEN NATALIE opened her eyes in the morning, she found herself staring at Chance’s sleeping face. Even as her mind readjusted to reality, recalling the job, the danger, the events of the night before, she kept studying him.

In sleep, he looked different. There was a hint of vulnerability, a hint of the boy that was seldom there when he was awake. Both pulled at her, and she felt her heart take a slow tumble.

Not good, she thought, as she pressed a fist against her chest. She was pretty sure the heart gymnastics thing had nothing to do with hot, sweaty sex or fantasies about what went on in Victorian brothels.

Where had that one come from anyway? She’d never read a Victorian porn novel in her life. And she’d better remember that the Victorian scenario hadn’t been the only fantasy going down here. This whole thing she was playing out with Chance was a fantasy. He didn’t even know she was here. He thought he was with Rachel and Calli. He certainly had no idea that the woman who’d given herself to him in the shower and all last night had been Natalie.

Suddenly, she frowned. No, she hadn’t given herself to Chance. The word give was too closely associated with the heart acrobatics. And Natalie Gibbs was much too smart to give her heart to anyone. Maybe Calli was that type. As for Rachel, well, Natalie hoped that any cousin of hers would be wiser than that. But at least Natalie knew the kind of heartbreak that came when you allowed yourself to take that long fast fall into love. She’d seen what could happen up close and personal. Love had left her parents pining for something they could never have. And love for her dead husband had killed her mother.

No. She was not going to even think about the L word. L-O-V-E was not in her vocabulary. But as she lay there staring at him, she felt the little flutter near her heart begin again. Panic bubbled up. She had to get away from him to think.

After easing herself off the bed, she tiptoed backward to the closet, grabbed shorts, sandals and a shirt, then slipped as quietly as she could from the room.

SHE WAS GONE. Chance stood in the bathroom and struggled to keep panic at bay. When he’d woken up in an empty bed, he’d assumed she was in the bathroom. Their clothes were still lying where they’d dropped them, and her damn scent was still there. But there was no sign of Natalie. After moving out onto the balcony, he let his gaze sweep the grounds below. Relief streamed through him when he spotted her hurrying off in the direction of the beach.

Relief was pushed out by anger as he moved back into the bedroom for his clothes. What in the hell was she doing going off by herself? He dragged on trousers and pulled a shirt off of a hanger. They had roles to play, a job to do.

The next emotion to sweep over him was guilt. He should be lecturing himself on that score. Obviously, she was upset by what had happened between them during the night. Facing himself in the mirror, he tucked in the shirt and slipped into shoes. He could see the reflection of the bathroom door and the shower beyond. What had happened in there and later when he’d carried her into the bedroom had nothing to do with the masquerade they were involved in—or the job. He’d let his hormones take over.

No, that wasn’t the whole truth. Placing his hands on the dresser, Chance leaned forward and met the eyes of the man staring back at him. Self-deception was not something that he’d ever let himself indulge in. It hadn’t been merely hormones that had made him leave the poker game early. It had been feelings—feelings that he couldn’t name, let alone sort out.

And he’d been swamped by feelings again in the shower. Calli, Rachel, Natalie—all three of them had gotten to him. But in the end it had been Natalie he’d made love to. Natalie he’d dragged to the floor. Natalie he’d demanded say his name. He was certain of that.

What he wasn’t certain of was who Natalie had been making love to. Was it all role-playing for her? That was the question that he wanted to ask her, and it was not the question that should be foremost in his mind.

It was the job that should have his undivided attention.

Chance straightened and headed toward the bathroom. When he’d convinced Natalie to come with him to Brancotti’s estate, she’d thought she’d be working with a professional. He’d have to make sure that she was. Until they had the Ferrante diamond and were safely off the estate, he had to find a way to stop touching her.

But even as the thought went through his head, he knew that keeping his hands off Natalie would be next to impossible.

SHE WASN’T ACTING like a professional. Natalie admitted that to herself as she reached the water. The sunlight glinted off the surface so intensely that she lifted a hand to shade her eyes. The quiet water and light breeze signaled that the day would be hot. The one thing that she’d always prided herself on was that she never let anything interfere with a job.

But last night, they’d…for the life of her, she wasn’t sure what name to put to what they’d done to each other in that shower. All she was sure of was that when she’d seen Chance standing there in the doorway, she’d forgotten all about the job. All she could think of was having him.

Shoving down a fresh bubble of panic, she turned and started up the beach. What she needed was a bit of time to analyze what had happened. More importantly, who had allowed it to happen. From the time she was a child, she’d always loved pretending to be someone else. Her sisters had always enjoyed playing dress-up too, but for her it had always been about more than putting on outfits. She loved the whole process of getting into another person’s psyche. For as long as he’d lived with them, her father had always encouraged her to develop her skill for what he called “slipping into other people.”

With a dry laugh, she angled her path closer to the shoreline. Well, she’d “slipped” into some doozies last night. And the worst of it was, she’d enjoyed it. Never in her life had she felt so uninhibited, so wanton, so desirable. It had been wonderfully exciting until—

The cry of a gull had her shading her eyes and looking out over the water again. The white bird contrasted sharply with the wide expanse of blue sky. It called out again as it soared higher.

Freedom, Natalie thought. “Slipping into other people” offered her the freedom to escape from herself. Oh, she was her father’s daughter all right. But last night she hadn’t been able to completely carry off the charade. In the end, it had been Natalie who’d made love with Chance—in the shower and again in the bed. And…she’d lost a part of herself.

Stumbling, she pressed a hand against the tension in her stomach. Hadn’t she known from the first time she’d looked into his eyes that he could touch her as no other man could?

It wasn’t just the sex. It never had been just about the sex. That was why she hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind for three months. That was why she’d decided to don a disguise for her next encounter with him. She’d done it to protect herself and it hadn’t worked.

Natalie increased her pace and moved toward a part of the beach where tall grasses edged closer to the shore. She just needed to think. To plan. Choosing a spot near a lone palm tree, she sat down, drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.

What in the world was she going to do about Chance Mitchell? With a sigh, she rested her head on her knees. She supposed the answer to that question was simple and quite out of her hands. In a few days, the job would be over, Chance would go off to work on another case, and she would revert to being Detective Natalie Gibbs. Everything would return to normal, except that the job she’d loved for the past three years no longer held any appeal for her.

With one hand she scooped up white sand and let it flow through her fingers as she considered another question. Who was Natalie Gibbs? A part of her was her father’s daughter, someone who loved dressing up and accepting the call to adventure. But she’d never before tried to analyze just what that said about who she was as a person. Why did she need to escape into other people? Or were they really “other people?” Just how much of Natalie Gibbs was in the people she slipped into? She scooped up more sand. There was a lot of her in the Rachel she’d created, and probably more of her than she’d thought in Calli. And if parts of her really were those other women, then did she know who she was at all?

Natalie wished that her father was with her so that she could talk to him about it. It wasn’t often that she allowed herself to wish for him. At eleven, a year after he’d walked away from them, she’d locked those feelings away. For the sake of her sisters and her mother, she’d had to be strong and in control. But every so often, the need and the emptiness slipped past her guard and filled her as they did now. Even if her father couldn’t tell her what to do, surely he could sympathize. Had he ever wondered who he was?

SWEARING UNDER his breath, Chance jogged along the beach. In the time it had taken him to get down the stairs and out of the villa, Natalie had disappeared from his view again. The moment he found her, they were going to have a talk, and he was going to get her word that she wouldn’t go off by herself again.

Then he saw her, sitting with her head on her knees, her shoulders slumped and he increased his pace immediately. Something was wrong. Natalie never sat like that, and for that matter, neither did Rachel or Calli. He thought of the woman he’d squared off with on that mat in the Meridian’s gym. She hadn’t given an inch. He thought of the woman he’d been with last night, the woman who’d matched each of his demands with one of her own.

Something was definitely wrong. Quickening his pace, he knew the minute that she sensed his presence. Her shoulders stiffened and she lifted her head. But her gaze remained fixed on the water as if she needed a moment to gather herself.

When he reached her, neither of them spoke. He wanted to reach out a hand and stroke her hair, but once he touched her, he wasn’t sure he could stop touching her.

“You shouldn’t go off like this on your own,” he finally said.

Then she did look at him, and there was nothing of the sadness that he’d sensed in her posture.

“I needed to think.” With a smile, she patted the sand at her side. “And we need to talk.”

She was Rachel. Chance was as certain of that as he was that she’d been Natalie when she’d been sad. Suddenly, he wanted the role-playing to stop. He wanted to talk to Natalie, find out what was bothering her.

But telling her now that he’d known all along that she was really Natalie Gibbs could put their whole job in jeopardy. Oh, she’d help him steal the Ferrante diamond. But there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Natalie would hate him for deceiving her. And Carlo Brancotti was good at reading people. Even the subtlest change in the relationship between Calli and Steven Bradford might make him suspicious.

“We’ll have to be quick.” She glanced past him down the beach. “I doubt that we’ll be allowed to be here alone for very long. And I want to tell you where I think the safe is.”

Chance cursed himself under his breath. As usual, she had her mind focused on the job. He didn’t. Chance tabled the war going on inside of him. Now wasn’t the time for his personal problems, but there was one thing he could do.

He took her hands. “I was too rough with you last night. You drove me crazy. I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t have to apologize.” Then she smiled, and he caught a glimpse of that light in her eyes that was so characteristic of Natalie. Chance once again found himself stifling the urge to grip her by the shoulders and tell her that he knew who she was.

Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his. “I wasn’t very gentle with you either.”

Her scent filled him and sent pImages** tumbling into his mind.

“I could be gentle.” The words were a whisper against his skin, and then she used her tongue to trace his lips. “I could be very gentle if that’s what you’d like.”

Chance had slipped his hands into her hair and was about to take control of the kiss when he realized that it was happening again. All she had to do was touch him this way, and every other thought shot out of his mind.

He set her firmly away from him. “I think that until we get the diamond, we’d better keep totally focused on the job.”

“I can multitask.”

“I…” Chance paused for a second as he recalled just how good she was at multitasking. Then he cleared his throat. “I’m not as good, I’m afraid. It’s not you. You’re…” He paused again, battling both anger with himself and frustration. “Hell, yes it is you. You…distract me, and I want it to stop. I’ve waited a long time to get Brancotti. Can you understand that?”

“YES.” Natalie studied him through narrowed eyes. She thought she understood a great deal more than what he was saying. He’d spent one night with Natalie and disappeared for three months. Then he’d spent one night with Rachel and turned all business.

Now, he’d spent a day and a night with Calli, and he was all set to run for the hills again.

Chance raked a hand through his hair. “We can pretend we’ve had a fight. You’ve run away to the beach and I’ve followed. That will give us an excuse to keep our distance, and tonight I’ll sleep on the couch in our room.”

Not going to happen, she thought. This time, she was going to have something to say about it. She had a hunch all three of the women inside of her would.

“Do you turn tail and run every time you have great sex?” she asked.

“No.” There was shock in his eyes, followed by a frown. “What are you talking about?”

Keeping her eyes steady on his, she leaned back against the palm tree. “Well, you spent one night with me when I was Rachel and backed off. Now, you’ve spent a day and a night with Calli and you’re ready to back off again. My cousin Natalie never said you were a coward.”

His gaze narrowed. “I’m not. I’m concerned about the job. Don’t tell me that you aren’t having some of the same misgivings. Otherwise, why would you have run away down here to think?”

In spite of the jitters in her stomach, she raised her brows and sent him a cool look. “Sure, I came out here to think and, yes, I find you distracting, too. But not enough to change our game plan. We’ve set up Steven and Calli as lovers who are passionately involved and just a bit unpredictable. Tonight at the masquerade ball, I figure we’re going to need an excuse to slip away together so that we can pin down the location of the safe. Sex is something that Brancotti understands, and we’ve laid the foundation for it.” She reached over to pat his hand. “Stop worrying about the sex and let’s concentrate on getting the diamond. I think I know where the safe is.”

“He showed you his office?”

“Twice. When he finished showing me the gardens, he let me into the house through the wing where he keeps his ‘workspace.’ He didn’t take me inside, but he made sure I saw the coded keypad.”

“That’s where the diamond is?”

She shook her head. “That’s where he wants me to think it is.”

Chance frowned. “Then you think he suspects you?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, yeah. We’re in a room where we can’t even talk to one another unless we go in the bathroom and turn on the shower.” She shrugged. “But I think he suspects everyone.”

“Okay. So why don’t you believe that the diamond is behind the door with a keypad lock?”

“Because of a couple of things. One, he’s a man who believes that he’s smarter than anyone else and constantly likes to prove that. And two, he told me himself that he likes playing games.”

“So?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking. What if showing me the room with the coded keypad was just a bit of game-playing—or misdirection, if you’d rather call it that? Then because he’s so smart and his ego is enormous, he couldn’t resist showing me the room where he really keeps the things that are most precious to him.”

“Where?” Chance asked.

“There’s a small art gallery down the hall from the main salon where he keeps his collection of paintings. He told me he’s going to hold the auction there, and I think the diamond is in a safe in that room.”

Chance thought for a minute. “It would be just like him to pull something like that. He’s always been a risk-taker, and I agree that he’s a game-player. In fact, he could have a diamond in both places—a fake in one safe and the Ferrante diamond in the other.” He met her eyes. “Unless we get lucky on the first try, we’ll have to break into both safes.”

Natalie’s eyes gleamed. “Yeah. That’s the way I figure it, too.”

“How many paintings are in the gallery?”

“Ten.”

“Ten paintings…I don’t suppose you have any idea which one the safe is behind?”

Natalie smiled. “Did I say I thought it was behind a painting? I think he’s a bit trickier than that. I’m betting it’s concealed behind a panel in one of the pillars. He stood right in front of one of them, and I got this…feeling.” She rubbed the back of her neck.

“How sure are you about this?”

A small frown appeared on her forehead. “It’s a hunch. But I’m sure enough that I’m going to lure you into that room tonight and seduce you. You’ll have to take care of the camera. Then I want to poke around those pillars.”

“How long will you need?” Chance asked.

“As much time as you can get me.”

He raised her hand and pressed his lips against her fingers. “You’re very good at this game of deception we’re playing.”

She gave him a quick glance and caught the intent look in his eyes. For one moment, she wondered if he knew that she wasn’t Rachel Cade.

“We’d better get back to the house,” she said.

Chance didn’t move. He merely studied her for a moment. He might be losing his focus, but she wasn’t losing hers. He was very glad that he’d brought her to Florida with him.

“Carlo is going to wonder if we don’t get back,” she said.

“Let him,” Chance said as he remembered the way she’d looked when he’d first seen her here on the beach. “Let’s go wading first.”

“Wading?”

The surprise on her face pleased him. “You take your shoes off and walk in the water.”

“I’m familiar with the concept. I just don’t get the purpose.”

The dryness in her tone had him shooting her a sideways glance. “Fun. Once we go back to the house, we’re Calli and Steven. Right now, we can be whoever we want. Didn’t you ever skip school and play hooky as a kid?”

“No.”

Chance grinned at her. It was his Natalie who’d answered. He was certain of it. “No. Of course not.”

Her chin lifted. “And you played hooky a lot?”

“You might say that my early life was pretty much one long game of hooky.” He walked to the shoreline, toed his shoes off and then leaned down to take off his socks.

“How so?” she asked, kicking off her sandals and joining him.

“It’s a long story,” Chance said.

“I can wade and listen at the same time,” Natalie pointed out.

They began to walk. The sun beat down on their shoulders and arms, and the lukewarm water lapped at their ankles. “My mother moved around a lot, mostly within London and the south of England. But a few times, she followed a band to Scotland or Wales. She was what you would call in America a groupie—and she was especially fond of young groups that were just starting out. Sometimes, they’d give her work, repairing and laundering costumes or passing out flyers. I got to help with that.”

Natalie frowned as she slipped her hand into his. “She took you with her?”

“She was only sixteen when I was born, and she didn’t have any family. Most of the time she supported the two of us by waitressing. She thought that was the best kind of job because she could bring home food. Plus, it was something that she could do just as well in one town as another.”

Chance shot her a look and saw that the frown had deepened on her face. “It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. She was pretty and she laughed a lot. And she loved me. It wasn’t until I got to the orphanage that I started to go to school regularly.”

“Orphanage?”

Chance shrugged. He rarely let himself think about that part of his life, and he never talked about it. He wasn’t sure why he was now except that what they were doing reminded him in a way of that early part of his life before the orphanage. “One night she never came home. Police came to the door the next morning. She’d been struck by a bus on her way home from a concert.”

Natalie simply turned and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry. How old were you?”

“Twelve.” Chance found that it was hard to get the word out because once again feelings were swamping him. He felt his body stiffen, not in defense but in surprise. There was none of the fire that he usually felt when she held him. In its place was a steady warmth and a sweetness that seemed to squeeze his heart. Her head was pressed against his chest, her arms wrapped around him, and he could have stood like this, just like this for a very long time.

Slipping a finger beneath her chin, he lifted it because he had to see her eyes. He could see sympathy and affection and a question.

“Chance?”

He wanted more than anything to kiss her. To lower his head, press his mouth to hers and lose himself in her. But if he did, he knew he would lose something that he would never get back. At the last second he set her away from him.

She turned away, but not before he saw the hurt in her eyes. He had his mouth open, his hand outstretched when he realized that the name in his mind, on his lips, was Natalie.