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by Unknown


  Ignoring him, Chance looked only at Natalie. “I can’t put you in danger.”

  She reached for his hand. “I won’t leave you here.”

  The phone on Carlo’s desk rang. “Excuse me.” He reached for it. “Yes?… I’ll be there shortly.” After replacing the handset, he said to them, “My security team has apprehended the shooter. I’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise you. In the meantime, I want you to let my personal doctor look at the wound.” He turned to Natalie. “I promise you that you will both be safe here. I don’t want you to leave. I’ll auction the diamond tonight.”

  Good, Chance thought. The sooner he got Natalie off the estate, the better.

  Natalie kept her grip tight on Chance’s hand. “Will you see the doctor?”

  “Yes. All right,” Chance agreed.

  “Ah,” Carlo said as a small round woman with gray hair and wire-framed glasses was ushered in. “Dr. Canfield, I’d like you to meet Steven Bradford and his friend Calli. Steven has a bullet wound that I’d like you to take a look at.”

  “It’s a scratch,” Chance protested.

  The woman stopped short and sent Carlo a stubborn look. “I have to report a bullet wound.” Chance got the impression the outspoken woman wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything.

  “By all means,” Carlo said. “I plan on making a report myself just as soon as I speak with my security team and find out why this unacceptable incident occurred.”

  “Just so we’re straight.” With a brief nod for Carlo, she bore down on Chance and set her black bag on the edge of the desk. Then she said to Calli, “Is he going to be a baby about this?”

  Natalie raised her brows. “He’s a man, so of course, he’s going to be a baby.”

  Chance suspected Dr. Canfield was biting back a smile as she turned and opened her bag.

  “I’m leaving you in good hands,” Carlo said as he signaled Lisa to follow him out of the room.

  13

  “TWO THINGS.” Natalie pitched her voice low, gesturing with the lollipop the doctor had given him as a joke after she’d dressed his wound. She sat cross-legged on the edge of the bathroom sink while he shaved. Behind them, the shower was thundering like Niagara Falls, so they could talk safely.

  “First, I think the diamond might be in the safe in Carlo’s office after all.”

  Chance let his razor pause in midstroke and shifted his gaze to Natalie. “Why?”

  She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, and a tiny line appeared on her forehead.

  Chance wondered if she was at all aware that she’d slipped into being Natalie. “Three reasons. Number one and two are related—the guard and the fact there was no camera in the room.”

  Chance continued to draw the razor down his cheek. She was good. There wasn’t a second that they’d been in Carlo’s office that he’d seen her attention waver from either Carlo or him, but she’d still managed to scan the room for recording devices. “It’s not surprising that he wouldn’t have a camera in his office. That’s his private space. He wouldn’t want someone even on his own security team seeing everything that goes on in there. Or overhearing everything he says on the phone.”

  “Yeah.” She tapped the lollipop against her lips. “That’s the way I figure it, too. But the presence of a guard could mean there’s something very valuable in the safe to protect.”

  “Or the guard could be stationed there to protect Carlo.”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t go with Carlo. He stayed in the room. I’m betting Lisa is Carlo’s bodyguard as well as assistant. And I think she sleeps with him.”

  Chance shot her a questioning glance. That was something he hadn’t noticed. “They’re lovers?”

  “I’d bet good money on it. There’s something in the way that Lisa looks at him.”

  “Your third reason?” Chance rinsed his razor under the faucet.

  She frowned. “It’s harder to explain, but it goes back to games. You mentioned he’s fond of misdirection. So at first, I thought that he showed me the office with the coded access pad to make me think the diamond’s there when it’s really in the gallery. But maybe it’s the other way around—and he took me to the gallery to make me think it’s there while it’s in his office with a coded pad on one door and a guard stationed at the other. Does that make any sense?”

  Chance nodded. “Perfect sense. But we’ll still have to hit both safes.”

  Natalie sighed. “Agreed. But I think we should do the office first.”

  Chance said, “We’ll see.”

  “We should have a definite plan.”

  “I’m working on it. You said two things. What else did you want to talk about?”

  She straightened a bit and rotated her shoulders. “I’m more convinced than ever that Carlo wasn’t behind the shooting.”

  “Be careful.” Chance drew the razor on one final stroke along his jawline. “You’re letting the man get to you again.”

  “No. But I do have to give him points for calling in his private doctor.”

  “Damage control. He doesn’t want it to become public knowledge that guests on his estate run the risk of being shot. And you only liked her because she swabbed my shoulder with something that could take the finish off cars.”

  Her lips curved. “Don’t be such a baby.”

  Chance took a towel off his good shoulder and wiped his face with it. “Remember, all of Brancotti’s charm is on the surface. Underneath, he’s as cold and ruthless as they come.

  And he’s the most likely candidate. He knew we were both down on the beach—the security cameras would have shown him that. All he had to do was pick up a phone and give the order.”

  Natalie pulled the lollipop out of her mouth. “But he was rattled when we walked in the room. And furious.”

  “Because his men botched the job.”

  “Or because something happened on his estate that took him by surprise, something that he wasn’t in control of. That would piss him off.”

  She had a point. He’d given it some thought himself, but he wasn’t convinced. Chance studied her as he rinsed his razor under the running water. As she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in a gesture that was pure Natalie, something tightened around his heart.

  When the job was done, he was going to miss working with her, pitting himself against the sharp mind of hers. He was going to miss her. Period.

  “Carlo didn’t like it at all when he thought we might leave.” Pausing, she pointed the lollipop at him. “I didn’t appreciate that little improvisation either. It wasn’t part of the plan.”

  He shrugged. “I have trouble sticking to plans. I wanted to see his reaction.” He recalled hers—the tears that had sprung to her eyes. Would she miss working with him? Miss him?

  “Rachel…”

  “Hmmmm?”

  As she met his eyes, he watched that total concentration shift to him. If he told her the truth now—that he’d known all along she was Natalie Gibbs—he might be able to convince her to go.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  As he played with a strand of her hair, he knew that he wasn’t going to tell her—for the same reason that he hadn’t pushed the issue in Carlo’s office. In spite of the danger, in spite of everything, he wanted her with him for as long as he could have her.

  “I want you,” he said.

  The tiny line appeared on her forehead again. “We should nail down details for tonight.”

  “Okay.” He hung up his towel and turned to her. It was then that he noticed the line of dried blood on the top of her foot. “You didn’t tell me that you were hurt.”

  She glanced down. “I’m not. It’s just a scratch.”

  Chance plugged the sink and turned the faucets on. “That defense strategy didn’t work for me.” He paid no heed to her grumbled comments as he drew her feet into the water.

  “Ouch.”

  “I thought it was only men who were babies.” Ignoring her little huff of breath, he lift
ed the injured foot out of the water, placed the sole in the palm of his hand and began to massage soap gently over the scratch. It was merely a scratch, he discovered, but there was more than one.

  “I can do that,” she said.

  “Yes,” he agreed amiably as he slipped a soapy finger in and out between her toes. “But why don’t you tell me what you believe would be a good plan for tonight?”

  “I think we ought to…”

  “Yes?” He ran a hand up her calf to the back of her knee.

  “Since there are two safes…we should…”

  Watching her, he moved his fingers up the inside of her thigh. “We’re not sure there are two safes.”

  “There are. I’m sure…you’re distracting me.”

  “Really?” He traced his fingers back down her calf and rinsed her foot. “You’re the most focused person I know.”

  “Two safes…two people…the most…efficient way to handle it would be…”

  Her last words had come out in a rush, Chance noted as he lifted her foot and pressed his mouth to the scratch. He heard the quick catch of her breath. And when he turned, he saw the mix of desire and confusion in her eyes. It struck him then that he’d never once taken the time to seduce her. Oh, he’d made love to her, but it had always been fast and hot.

  Wonderful in its own way, but… He watched her eyes darken as he ran his tongue along the scratch, then took one quick nip at the arch of her foot.

  “Chance, I…”

  “You were saying that the most efficient way to handle it would be to…?” Lowering her foot, he leaned in and brushed his mouth over hers.

  “I can’t think when you…do that.”

  “How about this?” He traced her lips with his tongue. “You taste like cherry lollipop.”

  Then he shifted his attention to her other foot. This time he ran his hand up to the inside of her thigh and let it linger there. “You were saying…?”

  “You’re making it…hard to think.”

  He was going to make it impossible. But he didn’t say that. Instead, he traced little patterns on the inside of her thigh and savored the quick catch of her breath.

  “Why are we always in such a hurry?” he asked.

  Her lips were parted, moist and stained cherry-red. He leaned in for another sample. Heat shimmered. The moment it threatened to flare, he drew back.

  “No.” The plea came out on a sigh.

  The sight of her, aroused and at his mercy, excited him in a way that hadn’t happened before. Watching only her eyes, he skimmed his fingers higher up the inside of her thigh until he could touch the lace of her panties. This time he intended to go slowly. “Tell me more about your plan.”

  Natalie sucked in a breath and wished that she could gather her thoughts just as quickly.

  There was some important point that she had to make. But she couldn’t quite grasp hold of it.

  “Or you could just let me touch you,” Chance said.

  She shuddered as his fingers traced the lace on the edge of her panties. She waited, shuddering again in anticipation of when they would slip beneath the thin silk and enter her. But they didn’t. They merely traced the same path over and over.

  Sensations moved through her. And they were so new—nothing like the flash and fire he’d always ignited in her before. This was…softer…sweeter, and her blood felt as if it had turned thick as honey.

  “I love the feel of your skin.” His hand moved down the inside of her thigh to her knee and then slowly back again. He repeated the process on her other thigh.

  She could have sworn that she was floating. Ridiculous. She was still sitting on the counter. She could feel the hard press of it against her bottom and the heels of her hands.

  But what Chance was doing to her with just his hands made her feel as if he’d magically levitated her several inches above the counter.

  That was ridiculous. And she should put a stop to it. She opened her mouth, intending to do just that when he drew her feet out of the sink and shifted her so that her back was propped against the mirror and he was standing between her legs.

  He pulled her shorts off and dropped them on the floor in one smooth move.

  “Open your eyes.”

  She hadn’t even been aware that she’d closed them, but she did as he asked. She would have done anything he asked.

  “I want to touch you here.” He ran one finger down the silk of her panties until it rested against the center of her heat.

  She shuddered as a wave of pleasure pierced her, weakening her. Helpless to do anything else, she watched him, waiting, wanting.

  For a moment, he didn’t move at all. And she couldn’t. Everything inside of her was melting.

  “Please…”

  His finger moved then, but only to trace the same erotic patterns he’d made earlier on her thigh.

  “No…please.” Gathering all of her strength, she arched toward him, craving more.

  He drew his hand away, gripped her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the counter.

  Then leaning down, he began to trace the same pattern on the silk of her panty with his tongue.

  Pleasure built to a knife-edged pain inside of her as she strained toward him. But she couldn’t get close enough, and he kept the pressure so gentle. Too gentle. The torture was so exquisite, she thought she might die of it.

  “I can’t… Please.”

  He drew her panties off then and followed their path down her legs with his mouth. Then he began the journey back up. If she’d thought she might die before, Natalie was quite sure she would now as sensation after sensation battered through her. There was the scrape of his teeth at her ankle, the slick pressure of his tongue on her calf, and the string of kisses that drew closer and closer, only to stop before they reached their goal.

  And then his mouth was just where she wanted it to be, and the pressure was just what she’d been craving. She called out his name as the orgasm erupted. His arms were around her as the pleasure careened through her with a force that built and built and built to a high, airless peak. As she shot over it, all she knew was Chance.

  And then he was inside of her, moving slowly in and out, in and out. She couldn’t feel anymore. She was sure of it, but then the heat started to build again. And still he went slowly, too slowly. Drawing on all of her strength, she wrapped herself around him and began to move. She knew the moment the pleasure built to the flash point for him, and she went with him into the fire.

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK of the costume?”

  Natalie stared at herself in the mirror and tried to think of an appropriate Calli response.

  Of course, Chance had sprung the costume on her out of the blue.

  And they still didn’t have a decent plan. Once she’d managed to gather up her brain cells after they’d made love, she’d suggested that they split up and each break into one of the safes. He’d rejected it, but what he’d replaced it with was sketchy at best. The only thing she was sure of was that they were going to break into the gallery safe first. In her mind, the sketchy details meant that he intended to improvise.

  “Great, aren’t they?”

  Natalie dragged her focus back to the costumes. The fact that they were in the bedroom and being listened to kept her from saying what she really thought about them. She shifted her gaze to Chance’s reflection in the mirror. He was Stan Laurel. Tall and lean, he looked the part right up to the dopey expression on his face. Very cute.

  She, on the other hand, was a fat, pudgy and very disgruntled Oliver Hardy. Spikey little black bangs peeked out from the bowler hat she was wearing, and she had a mustache and chipmunk cheeks. Chance had made her stuff cotton rolls in them.

  Finally, she let her gaze drift down to the stomach that felt as big as Kansas. The added padding around her middle held her tools and a second costume just in case they had to improvise at some point in the evening.

  Just in case they had to improvise? Yeah, right. But she felt better knowing that at l
east Chance had some sort of a backup plan. Still, the added girth around her middle was going to slow her down.

  “You really look like Oliver Hardy,” Chance said, grinning at her.

  She did. And Calli should have some reaction to that. Someone was listening, but her mind had gone suddenly blank. How would Calli feel about wearing this costume?

  For some reason she’d been finding it harder to keep in character since they’d made love in the bathroom. She was pretty sure that the clutch of nerves in her stomach had more to do with the way that Chance had made her feel than the job they had to do tonight.

  “I was sure you’d like it,” Chance said.

  Stalling, she fisted her hands on her hips and focused on her image in the mirror. But she didn’t want to be Calli right now. And she didn’t want to be Rachel Cade either. What she really wanted was to drag Chance back in the bathroom and ask him what he’d meant by making her feel the way he had.

  He’d made her feel loved. The word had fear and panic slithering up her spine, but it was better to get it out and face it than to let it gnaw away at her.

  He’d made her feel something that wasn’t real, that she couldn’t have. Better to get that harsh truth out and face it, too. Maybe then, she could get her mind back on the job they had to do.

  “You love watching my collection of Oliver and Hardy films…” The expression on Chance’s face was puzzled. He’d probably looked forward to throwing her this curve ball, Natalie thought.

  Tilting her head to one side, she met his eyes and said, “Loving the films doesn’t mean I want to dress up like them. And I don’t see why I have to be the fat guy.”

  Chance grinned Stan Laurel’s silly grin and flipped his tie at her. “Because I’m taller.”

  She rolled her eyes and ad-libbed. “I never should have let you pick out the costumes.”

  “You told me to pick a couple.”

  “I was thinking of a couple couple. Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra…” Switching her gaze to her own image in the mirror, she frowned. “I think I ought to get a reward for wearing this.”

  He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. “By the end of the evening, you’ll have the Ferrante diamond. You can bank on it.”

 

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