Cara Summers - Risking It All

At least they weren’t going to have to sit on the patio, Chance thought. After greeting and being hugged by Sophie and Mac, he found himself wedged between the two women in the corner of a circular banquette.

Sophie poured a glass of beer from the pitcher in the center of the table and handed it to him. Then Tracker cleared his throat. “There’s something you ought to know.”

Something in the tone of his friend’s voice had his stomach muscles clenching. “What?” He glanced around the table, noted the solemn expressions and fear streamed through him. “Has something happened to Natalie?”

“No.” Mac spoke as Sophie laid a hand on Chance’s arm. “She’s fine. She’s on the patio right now with her sisters.”

Chance felt his throat go dry. “She’s here.” He wasn’t ready to see her, and for the first time in his life he didn’t trust himself to improvise. “I—”

Suddenly, he didn’t care whether or not he had a plan. He had to see her. Hold her. Maybe the plan would come to him then.

“Let me out.” He nudged Mac. “I need to see her.”

“There’s something you should know before you see her,” Tracker said. “I—she knows you were aware all along that she was Natalie—that you were never fooled by the Rachel Cade disguise.”

“You told her?” Chance asked.

“Hell, I didn’t mean to. I slipped and called her Natalie.”

Chance took a long swallow of the beer. “I take it she wasn’t pleased.”

“She wouldn’t even let me drive her to her apartment,” Tracker said.

“You don’t have to lecture him,” Sophie said before Chance could speak. “I already have. But you should have told her yourself.”

“Before you took her to Florida with you,” Mac added, then shook her head. “Pretending to believe that she was this Rachel Cade when all the time you knew she was Natalie…what were you thinking?”

Chance raised a hand, warding off their criticism. “I wasn’t. But at the time, I—” At the time he’d been afraid she wouldn’t come, and he’d wanted her with him. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

The two women exchanged glances, then Sophie spoke. “Tracker says you’re nuts about her.”

Chance pinned his friend with a look.

“Hey,” Tracker said with a shrug. “I only calls ’em as I sees ’em.”

“Don’t look at me,” Lucas said. “My advice is to plead the Fifth.”

Chance glanced back at the two women. “Works for me.”

Then to his surprise Mac and Sophie smiled at him.

“Since you are clearly nuts about her, we’ve decided to help you dig yourself out of the hole you’re in,” Sophie said.

Mac slid out of the banquette. “Go. Talk to her.”

Chance felt his stomach plummet as he followed Mac out of the banquette. Natalie was here. His intention had been to spend the night working out a strategy for what he knew he wanted to do. Maybe he’d call her in the morning. Or send her flowers and then drop in on her at work. Or…

Hell, it was the one time in his life that he dearly needed a plan, and he had no choice but to play it by ear.

“WELL, WHAT ARE YOU going to do about it?” Rory asked as she swirled her olive around in her drink and then popped it into her mouth.

“Do?” Natalie asked.

“Yes.” Sierra reach over to pat her hand. “You always have a plan.”

Natalie took a sip of her martini, then studied her two sisters over the rim of the glass. She’d just told them everything that had happened since she’d left Sophie’s party with Chance, and they were looking a lot less worried than they’d been when she first sat down at the table.

“Right,” Rory said around a mouthful of stuffed mushroom. “It sounds like you had a wonderful adventure down in Florida. But you’re going to have to do something about Chance.”

“No.” Natalie shook her head. “I’ve had my adventure and I’ve had my fling. My plan is to go back to being Natalie Gibbs. Period.”

“You’re crazy about him,” Sierra said in her quiet, certain voice.

“I’m…” The not stuck in her throat. Because Sierra was right. No one else in the world had ever made her feel the way Chance Mitchell had. She was very much afraid that she was in love with him. “I’m a mess,” she finally admitted.

“Have one of these shrimp.” Rory shoved the plate toward her.

Natalie shook her head, but she did take another sip of her drink. “He’s walked out on me twice now.”

“Yes, he has,” Sierra said.

“The jerk,” Rory said.

“I’ll drink to that,” Natalie murmured and did. For the first time since she’d walked off the plane a week ago, she didn’t feel quite so numb. Perhaps it was the martini. Or maybe it was the little flame of anger that had flickered to life inside of her.

“He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with,” Sierra said.

“No,” Natalie agreed. He didn’t.

“You’ve always been the one with courage. Harry was right when he called you his warrior. I’ve never once known you to walk away from anything,” Sierra added.

Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trying that psychology stuff on me.”

“She’s trying the truth,” Rory said.

“The way I see it, it all boils down to one question—do you want this man?” Sierra asked.

Natalie thought of all that had happened between them down in Florida. It hadn’t just been about great sex. Finally, Natalie drew in a deep breath. “Yes, I want him.”

“Then take a risk,” Sierra said.

“And use your talents,” Rory added.

Natalie glanced at her watch. Technically, she was still on vacation. So there wouldn’t be any trouble getting a few days off. Either Tracker or Lucas Wainwright should know where Chance could be contacted in London. And while she was finding out that information, she’d have time to plan.

“I’ve got to go,” she said as she rose from her chair.

“Speak of the devil,” Rory said.

Natalie felt the prickle of awareness at the same moment Rory spoke the words. Then turning, she felt that quick leap of her heart that only Chance could cause.

He was moving quickly through the crowd on the stairs. How long had he been in town? How had he known she was here?

The moment that his eyes met hers, she felt it right down to her toes. I’m not ready for this. That was the one solid thought that managed to tumble into her mind as she walked to meet him in the center of the dance floor. Couples moved around them. Natalie could see that he looked tired—as if he hadn’t slept in a week. That made her feel just a little bit better.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Chance said, “Natalie,” and reached for her.

She took a quick step backward and folded her arms in front of her chest. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me that you knew I wasn’t Rachel Cade?”

He frowned. “Don’t you think I asked myself that a hundred times? I should have. I know that. But once we were down in Florida, I told myself that it would be safer if I didn’t.”

“Safer?” Her brows shot up and she began to tap her foot.

“Okay. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid at first that you wouldn’t come with me and, later, that you wouldn’t stay.”

“So it was the job all along.”

“No.”

She saw the anger flash into his eyes, felt it in the way he grabbed her arms. But she planted two hands on his chest and held her ground.

“You were the one who masqueraded as Rachel Cade. Why did you put on the damn disguise in the first place?”

She lifted her chin. “Because you walked away from Natalie Gibbs.”

“I didn’t. I had a job.”

She poked a finger into his chest. “You didn’t leave a note. You didn’t call for three months.”