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

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СКАЧАТЬ make it. In her persona as Calli, Natalie didn’t have to hide the fact that she was totally impressed with the chilled champagne and the fruit and cheese tray that awaited them in the plush interior of the limousine. Mozart poured out of a speaker, and she sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor, turning the knobs on a small TV.

      Unless and until they could be absolutely certain that they weren’t being bugged, they were to stay completely in character. That was the plan, and Natalie decided that being Calli was liberating. The woman didn’t seem to have any hang-ups.

      And seducing Steven Bradford had been almost as exciting as seducing Chance Mitchell. There’d been an added kick to realize that initially he’d tried to resist her. It occurred to her that she’d never before tried to seduce a reluctant man. But once Steven had gotten over his initial resistance, he’d been a more than willing participant. And if she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn that the man she’d made love with on the airplane was different than the one she’d made love to two nights ago. As a lover Steven was gentler, or perhaps sweeter was a better word.

      Did Chance feel the same way about Calli—that she was a different lover from Rachel? Which woman did he prefer? The thought fascinated her. Gazing over her shoulder, she studied him for a minute. It was definitely Steven she was looking at. What would it be like if she could make him lose control and become Chance when he wanted to be Steven Bradford?

      Running her hand along the lush carpeting, she considered what it might be like to discover the answer to her question right now. Right here.

      Turning, she sent Chance a slow smile. “Want to fool around?”

      Without taking his eyes off of the papers he was poring over, he threaded his fingers absently through her hair. “Later. I have a call with Harold scheduled for five o’clock, and I need to get through these.”

      The call would be with Tracker McBride. That much Natalie knew. The conversation would sound like business, but there would be a coded subtext. Right now the subtext of his message to her was to keep her mind on the job.

      But wasn’t part of her job establishing the fact that she was totally besotted with Steven Bradford? Knowing that the driver was listening and probably watching through his rearview mirror, Natalie twisted around and placed her hand on Chance’s thigh. “You know what they say about all work and no play.”

      In a quick move that she didn’t anticipate, Chance closed his hands over her shoulders and drew her close for a long, hard kiss. Then even as heat flared to life, he moved his mouth to her ear and whispered, “You’re playing with fire.”

      She laughed. “I hope so.”

      She felt his lips curve as he brushed soft kisses at the corners of her mouth. There it was again, that unexpected gentleness. Was it part of Chance or merely a layer to the persona of Steven Bradford? She was leaning forward when he slipped his hands out of her hair and set her away from him.

      “Too late. We’re here,” he murmured.

      Glancing through the window, she saw that they’d stopped at a mammoth gate set in a tall stone fence. The moment it opened, the limo slid through and continued up a winding narrow drive. Flowers bloomed on either side. To the right, there were three tennis courts where two hardy souls battled the heat and each other. Through the tall cypresses to her left she caught a glimpse of a landscaped patio area surrounding a huge pool. A few guests sat sipping drinks in the shade of red-and-white striped umbrellas.

      Then as the car swept around a curve and the main house came into view, Natalie let her mouth drop open. The building was huge, three stories high with wings on either side. The entire structure was built out of slabs of gray marble streaked with shades of rose and pink. It reminded her of an Italian villa as she supposed it was meant to. At its right stood a low-slung building—an old carriage house, she guessed. Now it probably served as a garage and servants’ quarters.

      “Wow,” she said as the car pulled to a stop. Though she didn’t repeat it, she might have said the same about the man who descended the marble steps to greet them. In person, Carlo Brancotti was even better-looking than he’d been in the photos Chance had shown her.

      Tall and broad-shouldered, he wore black trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. But it was his face that drew and held her attention as Chance guided her out of the limo. The slash of cheekbones and the hair hanging loose to his shoulders made her think of ancient warriors. The hint of the savage in contrast with the elegant clothes and surroundings made for a devastating effect. She had a moment to absorb the impression as he shook hands with Steven Bradford. When he took her hand and looked into her eyes, a quick prickle of unease moved through her.

      For a second, just until he released her hand, she had the uncanny sensation that he could see right through her. It passed the moment he smiled at her.

      “I’m so glad I made an exception and allowed Steven to bring you along.”

      “So am I.” The smile she sent him was genuine. “You have a lovely place.”

      “It’s even lovelier now,” he said. Lifting a hand, he signaled for a man who wore a uniform identical to the one the driver had worn. “Show Mr. Bradford and Miss Calli to the Venetian room.” Then he turned to Steven. “Make yourselves at home in any way you wish. I’m giving a small party tonight so that my guests can get to know one another.”

      Steven frowned. “I’m a busy man. I didn’t come to party.”

      Brancotti smiled and shook his head. “So American. You’ll have to learn to relax and enjoy my hospitality.”

      Then he turned and led the way into the house.

      A PRICKLE OF UNEASE had worked its way up Chance’s spine the moment that Carlo had said the words Venetian room. It moved through him once more as he read the same words on the engraved brass plate that adorned the door to the suite they were shown into. Venetia and Venetian. Was the name of the suite a coincidence or Carlo’s way of letting him know that he was aware of who he was?

      A part of his mind said no. There was no one at the agency who knew that he was coming here as Steven Bradford. Still, his mind raced as he watched Natalie move around the suite and peer through the French doors that led to a small balcony. She was playing her part beautifully, just the right mixture of sex kitten and wide-eyed innocent. And he was finding the combination fascinating. So damn fascinating that in spite of his resolution, he hadn’t been able to resist her when she’d begun to seduce him on the plane.

      “Look, we have a view of the pool and the ocean.” Then she was skirting around the valet who’d escorted them to the room, and opening the door to an adjoining bath.

      “Wow!” she said. “The shower takes up the whole wall, and there’s a hot tub.”

      “Will there be anything else, sir?” the valet asked.

      “No.” Chance followed the valet to the door. Before he closed it, he glanced once more at the brass plate.

      Brancotti might suspect any one of the guests he’d invited to the estate. He might even put Steven Bradford at the top of his list. But he couldn’t know for sure.

      Still, he should tell Natalie that they might be under suspicion. When he turned back into the room, she was moving through the suite, running her hands over the polished surfaces of old antiques, oohing and aahing. If Brancotti was listening, he’d hear a girl raised in the foothills of the СКАЧАТЬ