Cara Summers - Risking It All - The Proposition / The Dare / The Favour / The P.I. / The Cop / The Defender

“You better make sure that Natalie memorizes it, too,” Lucas said, “just in case.”

“Done,” Chance said.

Tracker leaned back and for the first time since he’d entered the room, he smiled. “One other thing.”

“Yeah?”

“What happens when Rachel finds out that you’ve known all along she’s really Natalie?” Tracker asked.

“I’ll handle it,” Chance said. And he wished to hell that he felt as confident as he sounded.

“YOU’RE SURE you’ve got it?” Chance asked as the limousine pulled away from the Meridian. There wasn’t even a hint of the sun in the eastern sky, and the street-lights they passed offered only intermittent illumination in the car.

Natalie gave him a sharp salute. “Aye-aye, sir. From the time we step on the plane we are no longer Chance Mitchell and Rachel Cade. We are Steven Bradford who’s just made another million or two this morning and his new best friend, Calli.” She tilted her head to one side. “You really think Brancotti might have Steven Bradford’s plane bugged?”

“It’s been sitting on the runway since yesterday evening. I’m banking on it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re hoping he bugged it, aren’t you?”

“I want to give Brancotti every opportunity to assure himself that we are who we say we are. Most of the others he invited for his little auction are returning clients. Steven Bradford is an unknown, and Brancotti is very cautious.”

Natalie had to hand it to him for thinking of allowing Brancotti to wire the plane. Everything so far about the cover that Chance had built for them had won her admiration. As far as she could tell, nothing had been overlooked. The small purse she carried contained a driver’s license, passport and several well-worn credit cards that identified her as Catherine Weston. The driver’s license was from San Diego, California, and would expire in eight months. But if Brancotti ran a check on Catherine Weston, now “Calli,” he would find that she’d been born and raised in a small town, nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Under Chance’s careful supervision, she’d spent three hours boning up on Catherine Weston’s background instead of sleeping. And once the real Calli had arrived at the hotel, Natalie had spent another three hours studying and talking with her.

Natalie stifled a yawn. She hadn’t slept more than two hours, but how could she complain when Chance was being just as thorough as she always was when she adopted a new persona. A perfectionist. That was the one word she would use to sum up Chance’s approach to this job, and she had no choice but to admire him for it.

She glanced at him and saw that he was using a pocket flashlight to read the open file on his lap. The Steven Bradford disguise was excellent, and as Natalie studied him, she marveled again at how far it went beyond the wrinkled tan suit he was wearing.

The tiny lines that furrowed his brow as he frowned at something he was reading were new. So was the way he ran his fingers absently through his hair. Body language, she knew, was as important as the costume in creating an authentic disguise. She watched his fingers toy with the edges of the manila folder on his lap, folding the edge back and forth. She would have been willing to bet that Chance Mitchell had never fidgeted in his life. He was the most self-contained man she’d ever met. The only time she was certain of what was on his mind was when they were making love.

What would the man sitting across from her be like in bed? Would the perfectionist streak in Chance force him to carry the impersonation of Steven Bradford that far?

One thing Natalie did know from the time she’d spent with the real Catherine Weston—the woman’s relationship with Steven Bradford went beyond her ambition to become a supermodel. The dreamy look in her eyes when she’d spoken about Steven was a dead giveaway. Natalie would have bet good money that Catherine Weston had fallen hard for the software billionaire.

Did Chance’s Steven Bradford have similar feelings for his Calli, she wondered? If so, she had no doubt that Chance would have carefully noted it in that mental notebook she suspected he carried with him. What would the perfectionist in him force him to do with the knowledge?

One thing Natalie knew for certain—her Calli was not going to wait much longer to find out. One of the many things she’d learned about her namesake was that she had boundless energy and enthusiasm—and Natalie was sure it extended to the physical side of her relationship with Steven Bradford. Gut instinct told her that Catherine Weston had even fewer hang-ups than Rachel Cade. And she couldn’t wait to try out that facet of Calli’s personality.

A sliver of pure excitement shot up her spine. For the first time, she admitted to herself how much she really wanted to work at Chance’s side during this operation. She was definitely her father’s daughter, and for the first time in her life, she wasn’t going to feel guilty about embracing that part of herself. Instead, she was going to enjoy it, and she was also going to enjoy exploring a relationship with Chance.

There’d be a price to pay. There always was. But as she watched Chance turn his flashlight off and insert it in the breast pocket of his shirt, she knew that however she was going to pay for saying yes to Chance Mitchell’s proposition, she was sure it was going to be worth it.

And she had plans for him. He’d evidently been satisfied after one night with Natalie. And last night he’d been able to resist making love to Rachel. But his one-night stand days were over. Calli was going to see to that.

CHANCE WAS very much aware of Natalie’s eyes on him. Just as he was fully aware of the excitement radiating from her in little spurts. She might look like Calli, but right now her body language was totally Natalie’s. Her arms were folded across her chest and her foot was tapping. He knew exactly what she was feeling because he felt it, too. He was equally impatient for the adventure to begin. There was nothing like going up against a worthy and challenging opponent.

What worried him a little was that challenging Brancotti wasn’t all that was on his mind. He was also thinking of being with Natalie. And those thoughts were distracting him from the file he was reading. It was taking him twice as long as usual to memorize Tracker’s latest surveillance map of the Brancotti estate. Swamps bordered the estate on two sides, and they were kept well stocked with alligators. That left two avenues for escape in an emergency. Through the entrance gate on the western side or by boat on the ocean side.

A red dot just inside the southern edge of the swamp marked where Tracker had hidden an inflatable boat. Hopefully, all would go well, and they could use it to meet Tracker once they had the Ferrante diamond.

Pocketing the flashlight, Chance closed the file and for the first time since they’d entered the limo, he met Natalie’s eyes. “Ready?”

“What did you have in mind?”

The grin she flashed him and the quick arch of her back told Chance he was dealing with Calli now. As Rachel, Natalie was slower moving and much more aware of her effect on the opposite sex. She knew to a T what she had in her arsenal, and she matched the weapon to the man.

Calli was more spontaneous, and her heart ruled her head. She didn’t even think about attracting men, but everything she did, including the back stretch, was incredibly sexy.

“You’re very good at impersonation,” he said. So good that he was wondering how being Calli would affect her response the next time he touched her.

“So are you.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “Right now I’m wondering what it will be like to make love to Steven Bradford.”