The Complete Series

8

“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.”

“Rachel, I—”

She leaned closer, and he caught her scent.

“Aren’t you wondering what it will be like to make love to Calli? We could find out.” She reached for his tie, but before she could pull it off, he grabbed her hands.

“We’re almost to the airport. If you’ve got any questions about the plan once we get to the estate, now would be a good time to ask them.”

Natalie raised her brows. “Plan? I wouldn’t call what we have a plan exactly.”

“Sure it is,” Chance said easily. “Find the safe, pick a time to crack it, replace the real diamond with the fake one that Brancotti left behind the last time, and then leave.”

“It’s a little short on the details,” Natalie pointed out.

Chance was beginning to enjoy himself. Whether she realized it or not, Detective Natalie Gibbs was beginning to shine through, and he found he’d missed her. “You’ll just have to trust me. We’ll improvise the details as we go. If you’re nervous, you can just follow my lead.” He regarded her steadily for a moment. “Unless you think you can’t keep up.”

Her chin lifted, and Chance had to bite back a grin.

“I’m way ahead of you,” she said. “My plan is to charm Carlo into giving me a tour of the house and see if I can spot the safe.”

Chance frowned. “It’ll be better if we take the tour together.”

As the limousine pulled to a stop, she shot him a Calli smile. “Relax. I’m pretty sure my plan will work faster.”

“You can’t be too obvious.”

Her brows shot up. “I can be very subtle when I want to.”

Natalie didn’t worry him. It was Calli who made him nervous.

Before she got out of the car, she patted him on the knee. “You’ll just have to follow my lead.”

NATALIE GIBBS slept like a rock, Chance thought as he sat across from her, watching her. She’d curled up on the seat across from his the moment the aircraft had reached cruising altitude. When they’d hit some turbulence over Virginia, she hadn’t stirred, not even when he’d pressed his hands briefly against her to keep her on the couch.

He’d been tempted to do more than touch her, but he’d resisted—just as he’d resisted making love to her last night. It had been late when she’d finished her session with Catherine Weston, and he’d pretended to be asleep when she’d slipped into bed beside him. Oh, he’d been tempted then to turn and see which of the two women had joined him—Rachel or Calli. But he’d resisted. And he would be wise to continue resisting until the job was done.

Of course, that was much easier said than done. She was stretched full length on the seat across from his, and she was wearing “Calli” clothes—a stretchy, midriff-baring tank top and shorts. Looking at her was not helping to strengthen his resolve. Taking a quick sip of the ice water he’d poured for himself, he decided to take a break from his self-imposed torture and browse through his file on Brancotti once more.

NATALIE CAME AWAKE in stages the way she always did, and out of habit she remained perfectly still until all the layers of fog in her brain had disappeared. The hum of the jet’s engine told her where she was, and she could feel Chance’s presence as well as smell him. Was he looking at her? She’d selected her outfit with the main purpose of making him do just that. And she’d posed herself on the couch to tempt him while she slept.

That was step one of her plan. Now it was time for step two.

Keeping her eyes closed, she stretched and felt the tank top inch its way upward. Then in one smooth movement, she sat up and opened her eyes.

Humph. He wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was sitting, shoulders hunched, poring over his file. And he had horn-rimmed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. For some reason, just looking at him wearing them had a little tendril of lust uncurling itself in her stomach.

Oh, it was more than time for step three.

“Steven?” she said in her high, effervescent Calli voice.

“Hmmmm?” Chance didn’t even glance up from the papers he was reading.

It was damned hard to seduce a man when he wouldn’t even look at her. Good thing she had a foolproof plan.

Taking the file out of his hands, she slid onto his lap. “Hi.”

“Calli—”

“Shhhh.” She cut him off by pressing a finger against his lips. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I came back to the hotel last night.”

He closed his fingers around her wrist and drew her hand away. “We’ll be landing in a very short—”

This time she cut him off by pressing her lips against his. The heat ignited immediately, leaping from her to him and back again. Drawing away, she said, “I can be very quick.” As if to prove it, she slid to her knees and pulled his belt free, unbuttoned his trousers and slid the zipper down.

When his hand covered hers again, she drew back a little and tugged her tank over her head. “I want you, Steven.” She touched him then, taking him into her hand. “You want me, too. You always want me, don’t you, Steven?”

HE DID. Later, Chance told himself that if he’d had a moment to think before she’d taken him into her hands… If she hadn’t called him “Steven,” or looked at him in that particular way… Or maybe if he hadn’t been looking at her for the past hour and fantasizing about taking her on the floor of the airplane… Maybe then he would have been able to resist her and stick to his resolution.

He couldn’t think at all when she rose to her feet and wiggled out of her shorts.

She was wearing nothing underneath. His hands came to life then, pulling her so that she could straddle him. And then she was taking him into her. Only then did she lift his glasses off and set them on the table.

“We wouldn’t want to fog these up, would we?” she asked before she found his mouth again and began to move.

9

THE LATE-AFTERNOON SUN beat down mercilessly as the limousine turned onto a sleekly paved drive. The limo had been waiting for them when the plane touched down on Brancotti’s private landing field. The driver, a tall blond muscle builder in his mid-twenties, had assured them that the twenty-minute ride would be as cool and as comfortable as he could 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 Blue Ridge Mountains nearly going into ecstasy over his home. He might be rattled, but Detective Natalie Gibbs was doing her job, checking for any hidden cameras or small microphones.

Emotions streamed through him—admiration and something he couldn’t quite put a name to. She was getting to him, and for both their sakes, he couldn’t let that distract him from the job he’d come here to do.

“This is so lovely,” she cooed as she climbed onto the bed and ran her fingers over the carved headboard. Then she stretched out on the mattress and sent him a quick grin. “Any idea about what we could do to while the time away until that dinner party?”

“You could take a swim in the pool,” he suggested.

“Too hot.” She made a face as she rolled over and then dropped her chin on her hands.

“I need to work,” he said.

She made another face. “Too boring.”

Moving to the bed, he took her hand and drew her up and off the mattress. “Why don’t you try out the hot tub?”

She locked her arms around his neck. “Why don’t we try it out together?”

“I really need to get some work done.” But he leaned closer, caught the lobe of her ear between his teeth and whispered, “What did you find?”

Keeping her arms looped around his neck, she drew back and mouthed the words. “No cameras, two mikes here in the bedroom. One mike in the bathroom.” Then she said aloud, “Oh, Steven, you worked on the plane.”

“I need to talk to you,” he whispered right against her ear. “Tonight, during the party, find an excuse to entice me away for a while. We’ll walk along the beach.”

“Oh, Steven.” Her voice was a throaty purr as she drew back again. “You’re always working. Can’t we play? Just a little?”

Pursing her lips in a little pout, she pulled his tie loose. Then before he could even think to stop her, she was working on his belt.

“Calli.”

“I want you.”

Quite suddenly, he wanted her. Calli, Rachel, Natalie. They were all parts of the same woman, and he wanted them all. But they had a job. They should both rest.

The thought slipped away as her hand enclosed him.

“You know I can’t go for very long without sex. It’s a curse.” She kissed him then, making sure that every soft curve of her body was pressed fully against his.

Chance flipped on the stereo beside the bed to mask the noises he knew they would make and then eased her back onto the mattress. “Then we’re both damned.”

NATALIE HAD to hand it to Carlo Brancotti. The man knew how to throw a party. Dinner had been a sumptuous seven-course affair served in a room that reminded her of a medieval dining hall. Her dinner partner had been a portly British gentleman, Sir Arthur Latham, who’d seemed sincerely interested in Calli’s aspirations in the modeling field. The woman on her left had looked vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until Sir Arthur had introduced her that Natalie realized she was Risa Manwaring, a retired actress who had married a British lord.

By the time they’d finished with dessert, Risa had the name of her agent as well as a list of her most recent modeling jobs.

At the far end of the table, “Steven” had been seated to Carlo’s immediate right, and as far as she could tell, the conversation between the two men hadn’t flagged once.

Were she and Chance being tested—or was she just being paranoid? Natalie had always found that when she was doing undercover work, a little paranoia was a good thing. But hers had been increasing steadily from the moment she’d looked into Carlo Brancotti’s eyes that afternoon.

She was pretty sure that Chance was feeling the same way. She’d felt the tension in him escalate the moment they’d entered their suite. There’d been that urgent request that she lure him away from the party. And she’d sensed an even greater urgency when they’d made love. What did he need to tell her?

Whatever it was, he was willing to wait until they could be absolutely sure that no one was eavesdropping. So it was important, but not urgent.

The gathering at dinner had been small—under a dozen in all. Besides Sir Arthur and Lady Latham and the retired film star, there’d been two Japanese gentlemen, the Motos—father and son. Natalie recognized them as the two men she’d seen playing tennis earlier in the day. She’d also been introduced to the Demirs, a distinguished-looking businessman and his wife from Turkey, and another man with very hard eyes—Armand Genovese. Carlo’s personal assistant Lisa had rounded out the number. Though she wasn’t sure why, Natalie had expected more guests.

Once Carlo had led the way from the dining room to the conservatory for after-dinner drinks, the men had retired to the patio to sample some of his cigars. Natalie had toyed with the idea of joining them and insisting on sampling one herself, but had decided at the last moment that it wasn’t something that Calli would have done.

Instead, she joined the four other women as Lisa led them on a guided tour of the flowers growing in the conservatory. It wasn’t difficult to keep her expression awestruck as she admired more varieties of orchids than she’d ever seen. The fact was, she wasn’t finding it difficult at all to be Catherine Weston.

Maybe it was the fact that the woman was about as uncomplicated as they came. She’d come from nothing and her ticket to the big time in modeling was Steven Bradford. Natalie Gibbs might not have gone about it the same way, but she could certainly admire Calli’s single-minded determination to make a different kind of life for herself.

After all, wasn’t that what she’d tried to do with her own life? For twenty-six years she’d lived with the fear that she was her father’s daughter—that she might be tempted to follow in his footsteps. She’d joined the D.C. police because she’d wanted to make sure that she satisfied her desire for adventure on the right side of the law.

And now as Calli she had the opportunity to have her cake and eat it, too. A diamond heist—it didn’t get much better than that.

She was even beginning to like the wardrobe that Chance had picked out for Calli. Natalie fingered the spaghetti straps that held up the silky white sheath she was wearing. Whether or not they made the man, clothes definitely made the woman. Each time she dressed in one of the outfits, she felt that she came to a deeper understanding of the part she was playing. Or perhaps, she was coming to a deeper understanding of herself.

When she’d slipped into the silky white dress that Chance had selected for her tonight, she’d instantly felt both beautiful and desirable. Natalie Gibbs rarely allowed herself to feel either of those ways.

But then the old Natalie would never have worn a dress that stopped at midthigh. Nor would she have thought of seducing a man twice in one day. No, three times. She had plans for that walk on the beach.

“It’s a lovely room, isn’t it?”

Natalie turned to smile at Sir Arthur’s wife, Lady Latham. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

The glass walls and ceiling of the conservatory allowed a view of a starlit sky, and the air was scented with exotic flowers and candle wax. A small band tucked in a corner and surrounded by potted palms was playing a movie theme she couldn’t quite place.

“But you’re missing your young man?”

Natalie smiled. “A bit.”

“Carlo is European and old-fashioned. He still honors an old tradition that men and women separate for a time after dinner. That is not the case in America, am I correct?”

“Yes, that is not the case in America.”

Lady Latham smiled at her. “Well, maybe you were right to fight for your independence. But don’t tell Sir Arthur I said that.”

Natalie pantomimed locking her lips and then throwing away the key. She was beginning to like Lady Latham very much.

“You ought to go out there and lure your Steven away. A man with someone like you doesn’t need imported cigars or the poker game that Carlo will entice them into next.”

Natalie studied the woman for a minute. Though she was well into her sixties, she could see that Lady Latham must have been quite a beauty in her day. The smile she saw in the pale gray eyes looked sincere. “I promised Steven to be on my best behavior tonight. He wants to conclude his business with Carlo as quickly as possible.”

Lady Latham’s brows shot up. “There won’t be any business done until tomorrow or the next day. Hassam Aldiri’s plane was delayed, and he won’t arrive until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. Carlo will wait for him. Hassam has a lot of money. Even if he decides that he doesn’t want the diamond, I doubt that Carlo will want to offend him.”

“Well…in that case.” Flashing Lady Latham a conspiratorial smile, she moved toward the doors she’d seen the men exit through earlier. The night air was warm in spite of the breeze from the ocean, but one quick glance told her that the patio was empty. Hurrying toward the balustrade that separated it from the sprawl of gardens below, she caught sight of the men seated at tables in a small candlelit gazebo.