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

More than anything he wanted to grab her, pull her to the floor and bury himself in her. But his arms still felt heavy, and he wasn’t sure that he could raise them.

“Watch,” she said. “I’m going to touch you now.”

He was helpless to do anything else as she closed both of her hands around him. Her fingers were hot, and she was doing something magical, twisting gently with one hand at the base of his penis as she pulled with the other.

“I’m going to make you come,” she said.

He wanted to crush her to him. He wanted to feel her beneath him on the floor. But he couldn’t take his eyes off what she was doing to him in the mirror. The steady movement of her hands and the incredible waves of pleasure she was bringing him.

She moved closer to him then until her lips were brushing his. “You can kiss me now. Why don’t you kiss me while you’re coming?”

Whether it was her words or the fact that she kissed him, Chance felt strength and power return to his arms. He gripped the front of her dress and ripped it down the center. Then she was beneath him on the floor.

They rolled as one, mouth to mouth, body to body. Triumphant, Natalie gave herself over to Chance and to the needs that consumed her. This was what she’d wanted from him—this consuming hunger. She could feel the power of it as his hands raced over her, molding, pressing, bruising. She rolled on top of him and devoured. His skin tasted darker and more dangerous now. But she only got a sample before she was crushed beneath him again.

And then he was poised above her.

“Look at me while I take you.”

She stared into his eyes and saw herself. I need you. The words pulsed through her as he drove himself into her. And she gave herself over to the madness.

CHANCE WINCED as he stepped beneath the cold spray of the shower. He was hoping it would clear his mind of the woman he’d just spent the night with. He needed to think.

Just who the hell was she?

As he lathered his shoulders and arms with soap, Chance considered that very fascinating question. The blonde with the sky-blue eyes was definitely Natalie Gibbs but in her new persona, she was different. “Rachel” was more playful, more inventive—he frowned, searching for the right word—more free.

It wasn’t that one woman was any sexier than the other. They were simply two thoroughly delightful sides of Natalie Gibbs, a woman he’d wanted with a desperation that had taken him to the limits of his control—and beyond.

Still, the differences between Natalie and “Rachel” fascinated him. Detective Gibbs had the cool head and the detachment of a cop. He’d admired that from the first time they’d met. And even in the way she made love, she was focused. “Rachel” seemed more impulsive. She had a talent for absorbing herself entirely in the moment. Damned if she hadn’t tempted him into doing the same. In fact, he’d been so absorbed in her that instead of coming up with a plan to convince her to join him on his Florida job, he’d just given himself over to exploring the pleasure they could bring to each other.

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 pImages** 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.”