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

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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

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