by Cara Summers
The whole night had been a battle, and Chance still wasn’t sure who’d won. He could vividly recall the way her hands had torn at his clothes and his had torn at hers, the way he’d finally dragged her to the floor and she’d wrestled him across it.
He wondered if he would ever forget the way her body had bucked and shuddered beneath his, or the way she’d cried out his name as they’d both drowned in pleasure. Each time when they’d finished with each other, they should have been content. But they hadn’t been. Their appetites had been insatiable.
Never had the need to possess a woman been so intense. It should have scared him. He should have wanted to get out of there—and fast. On some level, he was sure that he did. But overriding that fear was the determination to have Natalie Gibbs with him when he went to Brancotti’s estate.
Turning around, he let the cold water slap him in the face. The night was over. He had to get it out of his head and decide how to approach her about the Florida job.
Would she admit to him this morning that she was Natalie Gibbs, or would she continue to pretend that she was Rachel Cade? That was the question.
It might be fun to have them both along on the Florida job. But having fun wasn’t the issue. Catching his old childhood nemesis was. He couldn’t allow himself to jeopardize that.
After stepping out of the shower, Chance grabbed a towel and rubbed himself dry. The night was over. If Natalie didn’t put an end to the masquerade, he would. The situation might be a little difficult at first—especially if she didn’t want to be unmasked. But Natalie, the cop, was someone he knew how to deal with because they were a great deal alike.
Still, he thought with a smile, he was going to miss Rachel.
NATALIE SURFACED SLOWLY, her senses awakening one at a time. Rain—the steady sound of it lulled her. Keeping her eyes closed, she let herself drift, savoring the protection of the warm cocoon she was still wrapped in. This was one of her favorite parts of the day, the brief span of time in the morning before her alarm rang when she could feel the sunlight splashing across her bed, see the lightness of it beyond her eyelids and still not have to face it.
Burrowing more deeply into her pillow, she drew in a deep breath. Something was different. For a moment she couldn’t put a name to it. How could she feel sunshine and hear the soft, steady fall of rain at the same time? Even as the question formed in her mind, she realized it wasn’t the scent of her vanilla candle she smelled. It was…Chance.
Opening her eyes, she sat up as everything came flooding back into her mind. A quick glance around the room told her that she hadn’t dreamed the night she’d just spent with Chance Mitchell. She was in a suite at the Meridian, and the rain that had lulled her was the sound of the shower.
When it had stopped, she pushed hair out of her face and felt a little flutter of panic. At any moment Chance could step into the room.
And then what?
The second flutter of panic was strong enough to have her throwing back the covers and grabbing one of the hotel robes. As she was tying the belt, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and dropped her hands. She wasn’t Natalie Gibbs. Lifting a hand, she toyed with the ends of her hair. She was Rachel Cade. Natalie might have concerned herself with morning-after etiquette, but Rachel Cade didn’t.
A smile curved her lips. After living in Rachel’s skin for one long glorious night, Natalie knew that her alter ego didn’t concern herself with much of anything but the pursuit of pleasure.
Raising her arms over her head, she stretched. Each little twinge of muscle brought back images and sensations from the night she’d just spent with Chance Mitchell.
He had kissed her—finally. And the man had an incredible mouth. She ran her fingers over her lips and sighed. Nothing had ever come close to what she’d felt or what she’d done during the two nights she’d spent with Chance Mitchell. Natalie might have worried about that. But Rachel was already wondering about stretching the experience into another day at least—and perhaps a night.
Natalie laughed. She was going to have to thank Sierra for her suggestion. Sex was a lot more fun when you didn’t have to bring your personal baggage along.
A buzzer sounded at the door of the room and she heard a muffled voice say, “Room service.”
When she opened the door, the waiter rolled a cart in and positioned it near a window that offered a view of the Mall.
“Rolls and glassware are on the lower shelf. Will there be anything else, ma’am?”
Natalie waved a dismissive hand, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the spread that the waiter had delivered. Four white plates with silver covers were arranged on a cheery yellow cloth and in the center stood a pitcher of orange juice, a thermal container of coffee and a champagne bottle in a silver bucket.
A funny little feeling moved through her as she ran a finger over a single yellow rose that lay on one napkin. This kind of care wasn’t something she’d come to expect from a man.
She peeked under one silver lid and saw crisp bacon and plump sausages.
“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I ordered a bit of everything.”
Natalie turned to see Chance walk into the room. He was wearing trousers, but not his shirt. His feet were bare, his hair still damp from the shower. Her throat went dry. Incredibly, she wanted him all over again.
“I’d like you,” she said.
THE VOICE, the look she was giving him told Chance it was still Rachel he was dealing with, and if she continued to look at him in that way, the breakfast he’d ordered was going to get very cold.
Business, Chance reminded himself. Keep it light. “I thought it might be nice if we shared a meal—since we never got around to eating last night. That way we can talk and get to know one another.”
She laughed. “So we have a night of wild, sweaty sex and then we have a date?”
It occurred to him that he’d never had a date with Natalie in either of her personas. “Something like that. I’d like to get to know you.”
It was nothing less than the truth. In spite of his resolution to end the game she was playing, he was still intrigued by this side of Natalie. What could it hurt to delay the unmasking until after breakfast?
Natalie lifted one of the silver covers at random, then settled herself into a chair. “An omelet. I guess I could use the protein for energy.”
It was his turn to laugh as he took the seat across from her. Oh, it was definitely Rachel he was dealing with. He was going to miss her. “I was beginning to think you had an unending supply.”
She sliced into the eggs. “Well, we could certainly test your theory.”
Chance concentrated on the practical matter of lifting silver covers until he found what he was looking for. Then he scooped yogurt into a bowl and added fresh fruit and a little wheat germ.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He glanced up startled. “What for?”
“That.” She pointed to his bowl of yogurt. “You must have ordered that for me. Here.” She pushed her plate toward him. “Have some of the omelet. It’s delicious.”
“Thanks, but this is what I eat every day.”
“You’re kidding.”
The horrified expression on her face made him smile.
“I like to be careful about what I put into my body.”
“And here I’d pegged you for a risk-taker.” She met his eyes. “But I guess you’re doing something right. You’ve got a great body.”
She was making it hard to stick to the date plan. “What do you usually eat for breakfast?”
She shrugged as she lifted another forkful of eggs. “I’m a cop, so you get one guess.”
“Donuts?”
She pointed a fork at him. “You got it. I prefer them day old so I can dunk them in the dreadful coffee they serve at the station.”
Chance’s eyes narrowed. “So…you’re a cop like your cousin Natalie?”
As she set her cup down, some of the coffee spilled onto the saucer. “Yes
. Fort Lauderdale.”
For a few moments, she busied herself with eating, and Chance wondered if admitting to being a cop had been a slipup. Perhaps, now was the time to tell her that he knew who she was. He could reach over, take her hand and say, “Natalie, I know.”
But once he did that, would “Rachel” disappear? “Do you like being a cop?”
“Sure.” This time when her eyes met his he saw a trace of amusement. “Is this the part where we exchange bios?”
Chance shrugged as he set down his spoon. “Standard first date talk. You interest me, Rachel Cade. Ever do any undercover work on the job?”
She hesitated only an instant. “Some. You should see me in my hooker clothes.”
A vivid image filled Chance’s mind, but he shoved it away. “I’ve heard your cousin Natalie is good with locks. Any chance that you’re good with them, too?”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Anything Nat can do, I can do better. You know, this is beginning to sound like a job interview.”
Chance couldn’t help thinking that Rachel’s mind was every bit as sharp as her “cousin’s.” “How long are you going to be visiting your cousins?”
“I’m not sure.” She lifted her cup and drained it. Then she sent him a provocative smile. “Why do you ask?”
Because at some point in their conversation, Chance had scratched his original game plan and come up with a new one. He wasn’t at all ready to lose Rachel Cade yet. He wanted her in Florida with him. His head might tell him that he was taking a dangerous risk by not ending Natalie’s masquerade right now, but something much closer to the bone was telling him that he was going to need both women to catch Brancotti. “I’ve got a little proposition to make you and it will involve about a week of your time.”
She reached over and ran a finger down the back of his hand. “Sounds perfect. Especially, if it’s anything like the proposition I made you last night….”
Chance shook his head. “It’s more of a job offer, and it’s dangerous.” He saw something flicker in her eyes, just once. Surprise or something else? “You’ll have to wear a disguise.”
She said nothing, but her expression had stilled and the woman studying him now was Detective Natalie Gibbs through and through.
“I was thinking of asking your cousin Natalie. I need someone who’s good at disguise and it wouldn’t hurt at all if you could break into a safe. If you’re interested, I think we could work very well together.”
She said nothing at all, but he could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. Chance felt a little sinking sensation in his stomach. Would she tell him that she was really Natalie? With the seconds ticking away, he watched her closely. If there was any struggle going on inside of her, he saw no evidence of it. Oh, this was the cool, sharp detective all right. But he couldn’t help remembering the impulsive and incredibly responsive woman he’d spent the night with. How many other facets were there to Natalie Gibbs?
Finally, she said, “I might be interested. Tell me what it involves.”
Leaning forward, Chance did just that. He explained everything just as he had to Tracker—the missing Ferrante diamond, its resurfacing and the upcoming auction for a select group of invited guests. Then he told her about the cover. They would go in as a billionaire software nerd and his current piece of arm candy. The only things he left out were Venetia Gaston’s death and his personal relationship to Brancotti.
“Brancotti’s estate is in South Florida. Have you heard of him?”
Natalie shook her head. “We wouldn’t if he keeps himself as clean as you say he does.”
Smooth, Chance thought. But of course, she wouldn’t lie unless she had to. No one who had lived undercover and had to tell lies for long periods of time ever told more than necessary.
“What do you say?” Chance asked.
YES. NATALIE HAD to bite down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from saying the word out loud. As much as the “Rachel” part of her wanted to agree, she knew that she had to think. More than that, she needed to make a few phone calls and find out more about this Brancotti. She couldn’t just up and run off to Florida and pretend to be some high-tech billionaire’s arm candy. Could she?
Of course not. She never acted on impulse. Oh, she took risks, certainly. But she always weighed her options, ascertained the consequences and made plans accordingly.
But she was so tempted to throw caution to the wind and say yes. Chance was offering her just the kind of assignment she’d always dreamed of. She could use her talents, and she would be working with one of the best men in his field.
She lifted the pot and refilled her cup. There were other things to consider. There had to be. For one thing, he thought she was Rachel Cade. She should tell him right now about the trick she’d pulled on him. But if she did, would he become annoyed and withdraw his offer?
Plus, she wasn’t at all sure that she wanted to give up being Rachel Cade.
The voice came then, pushing past the fears and doubts skulking around in her mind like a shadowy thief. “Trust in your talents.”
Chance chose that moment to take her hand in his and raise it to his lips. “What do you say, Rachel?”
It was Natalie who was dithering, and she knew in an instant what Rachel would say.
“What time do we leave?”
SHE HAD TO BE CRAZY, Natalie thought as she lifted the ten-pound weights that Chance had given her. He selected heavier ones for himself, then turned to face her.
“Do what I do,” he said as he raised his arms until they were level with his shoulders, held for a count of five and then lowered them.
She did. Although she’d told him that she was in good shape, he’d insisted on putting her to the test. The moment that she’d agreed to go with him to Florida, he’d told her that they were going to take a five-mile run through Rock Creek Park. He’d even bought her some shoes and workout clothes in one of the hotel’s gift shops.
When she’d asked why he was testing her, he’d merely said that he needed to make sure she could keep up with him if they had to make a run for it. The run had lasted well beyond five miles. After forty minutes she was still matching him stride for stride, and he’d been the one to call it quits.
Now they were using the hotel gym. It was located on the lobby level, and offered weight machines, tread-mills, free weights and a large pool that started indoors and ended outside. Four glass walls made the room about as private as a fishbowl.
Lifting the weights to her shoulders, she began to follow Chance’s lead through a combination of lunges and squats. When he finally set down his weights and took hers, he said, “You’re good.”
Her brows shot up. “I’m a cop, remember.”
“Not all cops stay in shape.” Then turning, he led the way to a mat. “Let’s see what you can do in hand-to-hand combat.”
For a moment she stared at him. “You’re serious?”
He smiled at her. “Unless you think you can’t take me.”
Unable to resist the challenge, she stepped onto the mat and began to circle slowly. He knew what buttons to push. She’d have to remember that and push a few of her own. He was bigger than she was and stronger. On the job when she’d had to use physical force, she’d always been able to play the looks-like-a-fragile-woman card. That wouldn’t work here. So her best option was distraction.
Keeping her eyes on his, she said, “What’s next? Target practice?”
He laughed, and she very nearly allowed herself to be distracted by the sound as she moved in and hooked her foot behind his. Once she had him off balance, she aimed her elbow at his stomach. An instant before it connected, she found her arms pinned to her side and before she could blink, she was lying beneath him, facedown on the mat.
While she struggled for a breath, she was vaguely aware of applause. But she was much more aware of Chance’s body pressing hers into the mat, of his voice in her ear. “You’ll have to work on your eyes. They give you away.”
She
would work on that, she vowed as she got to her feet.
This time she let him make the move, and she blocked it.
“Good,” he said. “Now try this one.”
He moved fast as a snake, but she moved faster. He didn’t talk after that, and neither did she. She wasn’t even sure how much time had passed as he made one move after another and she attempted to block them. She lost count of how often she ended up pinned to the floor. But each time, he helped her to her feet and taught her the countermove that would have stopped him.
He was very good, better than any martial arts instructor she’d ever trained under. But she would have bitten her tongue out rather than tell him. Nor was she about to tell him that she’d never before responded to martial arts instruction like it was foreplay. Her mind might be calculating countermoves, but her body had become very sensitized to his touch. In the course of their workout, his forearms had brushed against her breasts. His hands had gripped her calves, her thighs, her hips. Twice when they’d rolled on the floor his leg had been between her thighs. When he finally called it quits and grinned at her, in spite of her annoyance, she wanted to jump him.
If there hadn’t been an audience with their noses pressed against the glass walls surrounding them, she might have. Instead, she smiled at him, shook his hand. As they walked together toward the shower rooms, she bided her time. When he was least expecting it, she gave him a quick shove into the pool.
Then with the applause of the spectators in her ears, she waited until he surfaced and grinned down at him. “Thanks for the tip about the eyes.”
“Anytime,” he said as he gripped the side of the pool. “I don’t suppose you want to give me a hand out of the pool.”
She grinned down at him. “Do I have the word Sucker written on my forehead?” Then she turned and walked away.
