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

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СКАЧАТЬ and said, “You were getting bored with your job. This man has offered you the kind of assignment you’ve always secretly dreamed of having. On top of all that, you’re attracted to him. What’s the problem?”

      Natalie shifted her gaze from Rory to Sierra.

      Sierra shook her head. “Don’t look at me. I think Rory summed the situation up nicely. Unless you don’t think you can pull it off.”

      Natalie shook her head. “The job isn’t the problem. I can do it. It’s Chance. He’s the problem.”

      “So?” Sierra asked. “Is he going to be any less of a problem if you change your mind and tell him Rachel doesn’t want to turn herself into Calli and fly to Florida tomorrow?”

      Natalie thought for a minute. “No, but…”

      “You’ll only regret it if you let this opportunity slip by,” Sierra said.

      “And you won’t just be saying goodbye to the job. You’ll be kissing off the guy, too,” Rory pointed out. “Are you ready to do that yet?”

      Natalie sipped her martini, then set her glass down. That was the real problem. She wasn’t ready to cut Chance adrift. Not yet.

      “I thought spending another night with him would get him out of my system,” she said.

      “That’s one of the problems with our society,” Sierra said. “We want quick fixes, and sometimes that’s just not possible.”

      Narrowing her eyes, Natalie glanced from to Sierra to Rory. “I wanted the two of you to talk some sense into me.”

      Rory shot her a bland look. “I thought that’s exactly what we were doing.”

      “We think you ought to go,” Sierra said.

      Natalie ran her finger around the rim of the martini she’d hardly touched. “I should probably tell him that I’m Natalie.”

      “Why? It’s Rachel he invited along,” Sierra pointed out.

      Rory grinned at her. “Do you really want to go back to being Natalie yet?”

      “No.” She wasn’t ready to give up being Rachel Cade yet. “But I’ve never tried to be two people at once before.”

      Rory rolled her eyes. “You can’t have forgotten that Halloween when you were Wonder Woman and you kept slipping away from us so you could reappear and terrorize us as Jason from Friday the Thirteenth. You did it three times before we figured out it was just you.”

      Natalie laughed. “I had forgotten that. Still, this is a little different.”

      “Do you still want Chance Mitchell?” Sierra asked.

      “Yes, but…”

      “That’s Natalie talking,” Sierra pointed out. “How does Rachel feel about it?”

      Natalie grimaced. “She’s the one who said ‘yes.’”

      “What about Calli?” Rory asked.

      “She’s got her bags packed.”

      “There you go,” Rory said. “Two to one—they’ve outvoted you.”

      Sierra reached over to take her hand. “Calli and Rachel are parts of you. Maybe it’s time you trusted them.”

      Grinning, Rory lifted her glass in a toast. “To quote Harry, ‘trust in your talents.’”

      Sierra smiled and raised her glass. “‘Risk anything it takes.’”

      CHANCE STRODE into the bedroom and checked the suitcases for the third time since Natalie had left. The designer name luggage looked well used. Brancotti would notice that. He was a man who noticed everything. Not even a small detail would escape him. And new luggage would give rise to questions.

      That had been the reason that he’d urged Natalie to pack some of Rachel’s clothes as well as the new things they’d purchased for “Calli.” He’d insisted on stopping by Natalie’s place where “Rachel” was staying so she could collect her belongings. Flipping open the top of one of the smaller pieces, Chance fingered a lace camisole in a shade of icy pink. He’d often wondered what Detective Natalie Gibbs had worn beneath those tailored suits. In his mind, he’d pictured the stereotypical black lace, but for some odd reason, he found the pale pastel shade even more alluring. Of course, he’d known that Natalie had her vulnerable side. What he hadn’t known was that it would appeal to him just as much as her strength did.

      When he caught himself reaching for Rachel’s cosmetic bag, he stopped himself. He’d already checked it and assured himself that it contained a mix of new and old makeup—just as any woman’s would. The only question he wanted in Brancotti’s mind was how much Steven Bradford would pay for the Ferrante—the diamond that had already caused the death of a fellow agent.

      For a moment, he let himself think of Venetia Gaston, the woman who’d been his partner during his last encounter with the man who now called himself Carlo Brancotti. For two years, he’d blamed himself for Venetia’s death. He’d set up the meet, and it should have gone smoothly. Carlo was to bring the diamond he’d just stolen and Venetia was to turn over the money. Then Interpol would move in. But Venetia had never reached the spot where the exchange was to take place. Carlo had intercepted her somehow. When they’d found her body, the money had been gone, and she’d had a fake diamond in her purse.

      Chance firmly pushed the image of Venetia out of his mind. Dwelling on a past mistake was not going to help him now. He drew his thoughts back to the present and lifted a skinny little tank top that he’d had “Calli” model for him earlier in the day. This time he wasn’t taking any chances. He was going to face his old nemesis himself, and he was taking someone in with him that Brancotti would have no way of knowing. Chance’s lips curved slightly. How could Brancotti know that the sexy woman known as Calli was also a tough cop who was equally adept at handling a gun and opening safes?

      Chance dropped the tank top and closed the suitcase. The suite had suddenly seemed empty when she’d walked out. Her request to meet with her “cousins” had surprised him, but it had made sense. Of course, she would want to let her sisters know that she was leaving town. But what if she had second thoughts? How could he handle them if he wasn’t there?

      Turning, he strode back into the living room of the suite. He’d just have to handle them when she got back. He wasn’t going to Florida without Natalie Gibbs. The file he’d shown her that afternoon was still spread out on the coffee table. He doubted she was aware of it, but when she worked she was all police detective. The intensity of her concentration and the strength of her endurance—both were qualities he’d come to admire throughout the long and grueling day he’d put her through.

      She hadn’t once flinched or complained. And not so much as by a twitch of a muscle had she let it be known that anything in his old enemy’s file had shocked her. She’d looked up from it once to say, “You lost your partner?”

      “Yes,” he’d said. She deserved to know the truth. “Brancotti killed her.”

      “I’m sorry.” Then she’d gone back to reading the rest of the file. When she’d finished and СКАЧАТЬ