Cara Summers - Risking It All

She did. And Calli should have some reaction to that. Someone was listening, but her mind had gone suddenly blank. How would Calli feel about wearing this costume?

For some reason she’d been finding it harder to keep in character since they’d made love in the bathroom. She was pretty sure that the clutch of nerves in her stomach had more to do with the way that Chance had made her feel than the job they had to do tonight.

“I was sure you’d like it,” Chance said.

Stalling, she fisted her hands on her hips and focused on her image in the mirror. But she didn’t want to be Calli right now. And she didn’t want to be Rachel Cade either. What she really wanted was to drag Chance back in the bathroom and ask him what he’d meant by making her feel the way he had.

He’d made her feel loved. The word had fear and panic slithering up her spine, but it was better to get it out and face it than to let it gnaw away at her.

He’d made her feel something that wasn’t real, that she couldn’t have. Better to get that harsh truth out and face it, too. Maybe then, she could get her mind back on the job they had to do.

“You love watching my collection of Oliver and Hardy films…” The expression on Chance’s face was puzzled. He’d probably looked forward to throwing her this curve ball, Natalie thought.

Tilting her head to one side, she met his eyes and said, “Loving the films doesn’t mean I want to dress up like them. And I don’t see why I have to be the fat guy.”

Chance grinned Stan Laurel’s silly grin and flipped his tie at her. “Because I’m taller.”

She rolled her eyes and ad-libbed. “I never should have let you pick out the costumes.”

“You told me to pick a couple.”

“I was thinking of a couple couple. Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra…” Switching her gaze to her own image in the mirror, she frowned. “I think I ought to get a reward for wearing this.”

He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. “By the end of the evening, you’ll have the Ferrante diamond. You can bank on it.”

She met his eyes then. “I will.” And that was all she was going to think about for the rest of the evening—getting her hands on that diamond.

“Ready?” Chance asked.

The ringing of his cell phone prevented her from replying.

“Yes, Harold,” Chance said.

It was Tracker checking in again. He would have facts and figures to give Steven on the latest merger that Bradford Enterprises was engaged in. Sandwiched in would be anything important that Tracker wanted Chance to know.

While she waited, Natalie checked herself one more time in the mirror and practiced walking back and forth.

“There’s been a little shooting incident,” Chance said. “Nothing serious, but you can cancel the fishing trip and expect me back in New York tomorrow morning.”

Nicely done, Natalie thought. Now, Tracker would know that they had to leave the island tonight. Once Chance pocketed his phone, he turned toward her and handed her one of the feathery masks that Carlo had provided. “Ready?”

She felt her heart flip and tried to ignore it. This was a man who would never be hers, but they were about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime. This was why she’d signed on. Later, she’d test her ability to deal with a wounded heart. Right now, she was going to trust in her ability to pull off this job.

“Ready,” she said and waddled toward him.

OVER THE TOP. That was the phrase that popped into Natalie’s mind the minute she walked into the main salon. Carlo had brought the room to life as surely as if he’d been the prince who’d awakened Sleeping Beauty. Crystal chandeliers glimmered overhead, and the wall of French doors stood open to the night. Across the room, tables draped in white linen cloths held silver buckets of champagne and trays of food. And there were flowers everywhere, their scents blending with candle wax and expensive perfume. A band played in the far corner of the dance floor, and she noted that the room was already more than half-filled with people.

Carlo Brancotti’s masquerade ball was the party to be invited to in South Florida. She’d almost forgotten that, and as Natalie let her gaze sweep the room, she wondered how many politicians and other assorted celebrities hid behind the glittering, feathery masks that Carlo had provided. It was a night to pretend, to do things you might not if you were yourself.

That’s what she was going to focus on. Taking a deep breath, she waddled at Chance’s side as they stepped into the line that was filing past Carlo and Lisa. Carlo’s assistant wore a blond wig and a long, white dress, glittering with sequins. Barbie, Natalie guessed.

But Carlo didn’t resemble the rather preppy-looking Ken. He wore a tuxedo with the same flair and effect as James Bond. With his long hair pulled back and fastened with a gold clip at the back of his neck, and one diamond glinting in his ear, he looked to be what he was—a rich, powerful man. There was nothing on the surface to even hint at the ruthless lowlife beneath.

“Ah, the film celebrities…” He paused and turned to Lisa. “Let me present Oliver Hardy and Stan Laurel.” As Chance took Lisa’s hand, Carlo continued, “And my companion, Barbie.”

Natalie was sure that Carlo recognized her when he took her hand. And she also noted that he wore a tiny listening device in his ear—a clever way to get updates from his security people. The moment they were out of earshot, she nudged Chance and spoke in a tone only he could hear. “He’s got a receiver in his ear.”

“And a microphone in his tie. He hasn’t survived this long without being very cautious. Want to try the food?”

“No, thanks.” She patted her stomach. “Right now, it’s pretty jammed up with nerves.”

“Then, we’ll dance.”

“Dance?” she asked as he drew her onto the dance floor.

“Yes. I take your hand, like this, and I put my other hand at your waist, like this.”

“I understand the concept—but we’re two men.”

“It’s a masquerade,” he said as he guided her smoothly into the rhythm of the music. “Anything goes.”

“This is ridiculous,” she said.

“No,” Chance murmured as he steered her down the length of the ballroom. “I’ve decided that we’re going to hit the gallery while Carlo is still tied up in the reception line.”

Nerves jumped in Natalie’s stomach. “It’s too soon. We just got here.”

“Call it a preemptive strike. He won’t expect anything this soon. And if the real diamond is in the gallery safe, we’ll be gone before he’s even suspicious.”

The moment they reached the far door, he drew her through it and down across the hall.

“If you try to disable the camera, he’ll send the troops after us,” she said.

“Got it covered. Just follow my lead.” With his hand on the knob, Chance paused long enough to meet her eyes. “Ready?”

Ready? How could she be when she had no idea what he was up to? But in spite of the nerves dancing in her stomach, Natalie felt the wave of excitement move through her. “Let’s go for it.”

“That’s my girl,” Chance said, leaning in to press his lips to hers as he opened the door and drew her into the small gallery. An instant later, he spun her around and pressed her against the closed door. Then his mouth was at her ear. “I’m going to tell you to strip for me. Make sure that you toss something to cover the camera.”

Before she could reply or even think, his mouth was on hers again. For one giddy moment, she wondered if Stan was kissing Ollie or if Steven was kissing Calli. Then she no longer cared as the heat shot through her. His mouth was as ruthless and demanding as the hands he was running over her. As her knees turned to water and her arms moved around him, her body strained toward his. But there were too many clothes, too much padding in the way.