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Natalie’s dress slid to the floor. She was wearing nothing beneath it.

Chance gripped her shoulders hard. “I want to know who the hell you are.”

Natalie smiled and stepped toward him. “I can be anyone you want.”

He couldn’t wait any longer to touch her. Clamping one arm around her waist, he pulled her into the shower with him.

She grabbed the soap playfully. “I can be Rachel.” Her slick hands slid over his skin, leaving trails of ice and fire in their wake. Her fingers drew a line to his waist and then lower. He closed his eyes as her hot fist enclosed him.

“Or I can be Calli.” She began to stroke him gently.

“Or I can be both.” Her laugh was a breath in his ear before her tongue darted inside. “I could be two women at once. Is that what you want?”

All Chance was certain of was that he needed her with a desperation that threatened to slice him in two. “What I
want
is
you. Now
.”

Dear Reader,

D.C. cop Natalie Gibbs prides herself on being able to handle men on the job and off…until Chance Mitchell comes into her life and she finds she wants her hands on the sexy insurance investigator a bit too much. When Chance proposes one night of no-strings, no-complications, no-etiquette sex, the very practical Natalie sees his proposition as the perfect way to get him out of her system for good.

The problem is that one night with Chance Mitchell isn’t nearly enough, and after three months Natalie decides that she’s willing to run any risk to lure him back into her bed—

even if she has to disguise herself to do it….

This is just the beginning of Natalie and Chance’s adventure. I hope you’ll come along for the ride and watch them ultimately take the biggest risk any two people can take when they risk their hearts.

Developing this miniseries—RISKING IT ALL—has allowed me to write about three fascinating triplet sisters who have very different dreams, talents and goals. But they have one thing in common—they’re willing to risk everything to get what they want. I hope you will look for Rory’s and Sierra’s stories,
The Dare
(June) and
The Favor
(July), and that you will enjoy reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them.

I would love to hear what you think about these stories. You can e-mail me through my Web site, www.carasummers.com.

Happy reading!

Cara Summers

THE PROPOSITION

CARA SUMMERS

To my sister in heart and dear friend—Kathy Eagan.

Thanks for your support, your inspiration and your

never-wavering belief in me. I love you.

And to all sisters everywhere.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Prologue

Summer 1999

HARRY GIBBS
was a man who’d spent his life taking risks and loving every minute of it.

For an international jewel thief, risks were a part of the game, and Harry had always played the game very well.

Of course, he’d been born smart and lucky. As for his other talents—such as his Houdini-like knack for opening locks and his gift for disguise—well, those he’d honed to perfection over the years.

And look where his chosen profession had gotten him. Standing on the balcony of his Tuscan villa, Harry watched as the summer sun bathed the vineyards below in a golden light. Although he had a small cottage outside of Dublin and an apartment in Paris, this was his favorite residence in between jobs.

Some would call his the perfect life.

Harry bit back a sigh. No life was perfect, and he had reason to know this better than most men. Life, he’d discovered, boiled down to a series of choices that you either embraced or rejected. Ten years ago, he’d made a big decision—to leave his wife and ten-year-old triplet daughters behind so that he could resume his career as a master thief.

His wife Amanda had wanted Natalie, Rory and Sierra to have a “normal” life. He’d wanted that for the girls, too. So for ten years, he’d tried, but in the end he just couldn’t accept that “normal” life for himself.

As the light pouring over the valley slowly darkened and the shadows lengthened, Harry finally let out the sigh he’d been holding back. There wasn’t a day that passed when he didn’t miss his family. And on this particular warm summer night, the twentieth anniversary of the day the triplets were born, he missed them more than ever.

He moved into the salon, then crossed to the bar and poured champagne into a flute. Six more years—he and Amanda had agreed on that. He wouldn’t contact the girls or try to see them until their twenty-sixth birthday.

Tonight, the six years seemed like forever, and lately he’d begun to feel that perhaps time was running out for him.

He crossed to his desk and opened the photo album to three pictures he’d taken of his oldest daughter, Natalie. Then he raised his glass in a toast.

“To my courageous Natalie,” he murmured. “Happy birthday.”

In many ways, she was the most like him. Sipping the icy liquid, he continued to study the images arranged on the page. They were his favorites. The first was one he’d taken when she’d had her tonsils out. She’d been twelve, and though she hadn’t known, he’d joined Amanda to sit by her side the night she’d spent in the hospital. The second was of Natalie getting her diploma at her high school graduation. That was just one of many days that he’d missed being with his girls.

His agreement with Amanda hadn’t stopped him from secretly attending important events in their lives and doing his best to watch them grow up. He just hadn’t ever been able to let them know he was there.

When they were small, his girls had idolized him. The last thing Amanda had wanted for them was that they would romanticize the career path he’d chosen. He didn’t want that either.

Harry bent to get a closer look at the picture he’d snapped of Natalie during her first day at the police academy. He grinned. No way was his oldest daughter going to follow in his path. If anything, she seemed determined to uphold the laws that he had lived his life breaking.

And that was his Natalie to a
T.
From the time she’d been able to walk and talk, she’d taken on the responsibility of both defending and ensuring just treatment of her sisters. A series of images streamed through his mind. In each of them, Natalie would stand in front of her sisters like a warrior. By the time she was ten, Harry could see that his oldest daughter had inherited not merely his red hair, but also his knack for opening locks and his talent for disguise. She would have made a great jewel thief.

Raising his glass, Harry drank to that. Of his three girls, Natalie had always been the biggest risk-taker, and he couldn’t help but wonder if being a cop would help her to come to terms with that side of her nature.

If he could just talk to her…

And what the hell good would that do? Harry set down his glass. What could he say? The problem was he wanted his girls to be able to have their cake and eat it, too—but he and Amanda hadn’t found a way to do that.

His gaze shifted to the framed photo of his wife, one he’d snapped at the girls’ graduation.

Reaching out, he ran a finger down the side of her cheek. He’d never stopped loving her.

And he’d never stopped loving his daughters. Thinking of Natalie, Harry reached for a sheet of paper and a pen and sat down at the desk. His risk-taking daughter, his seekers of justice, wouldn’t hesitate to take action. There had to be something he could say to her.

Even if he couldn’t send the letter now, he’d find a way to get it to her eventually.

Harry took another sip of champagne in a toast to his oldest daughter. And then he began to write.

Dearest Natalie…

1

Spring 2005

CHANCE MITCHELL
had never before been obsessed by a woman in his life. He glanced down the table to where Detective Natalie Gibbs was sipping a glass of white wine. He continued to study her as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. The two women seated next to her could be described as equally attractive, but ever since he’d joined his friends for a celebration at the Blue Pepper, his gaze had returned to Natalie.

At nine o’clock the popular Georgetown bistro was crowded. Customers were lined up three deep at the bar, and a salsa band was playing on the patio. In some corner of his mind, Chance was aware of that, just as he was vaguely aware of the ongoing conversation at his table, but his focus remained on the fascinating detective.

Her hair fell past her shoulders, and in the dim light of the bar, the red-gold curls looked as if they might burst into flames at any moment. He wanted to touch those curls. He wanted to touch her, slowly and thoroughly.

Chance took a long swallow of his beer, but it did little to cool the heat that burned inside of him. Oh, he was obsessing all right, and he wanted to know why.

What he felt for Natalie had begun the first moment he’d seen her. They’d both been working undercover for different agencies, and she’d been disguised when she’d walked into his art gallery. From the instant their eyes had met, there’d been a connection. He’d felt a curious shock of recognition that had registered like a punch in his gut.

So far, he hadn’t acted on the attraction. During the three days that he and Natalie had joined forces and worked as partners, the cool, aloof redhead had kept him at arm’s length. And he’d let her. That’s what he couldn’t quite figure out. He was a man who knew how to get what he wanted, but Natalie Gibbs had him hesitating in a way he couldn’t recall doing since he’d been a teenager.

Perhaps it was time he put a stop to that. She didn’t look quite so cool tonight. Maybe it was the clothes. When they’d worked as partners, she’d always worn a jacket and slacks, the standard uniform of a woman who worked in a man’s world. But tonight, the blouse she wore left her arms and throat bare, and the lacy, sheer fabric revealed curves as well as skin.

His eyes shifted to the V-neck that ended just where he imagined the valley between her breasts began. He let his gaze lower to the tiny, pearl buttons that marched in a narrow line to her waist. He could imagine unbuttoning them one at a time, very slowly, drawing out the pleasure for them both.

As the images filled his mind, the tightening in his gut turned raw and primitively sexual.