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As Rad began to circle her, she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrored columns that flanked the bar.

She had to hand it to Chance. It was the perfect outfit for her new alter ego. The hair, the earrings that fell to just above her shoulders, even the ankle-breaking sandals suited

“Calli” to a
T,
and the whole package together sent out a promise of hot, steamy sex.

Rad had completed his circle, and he was facing her now. “
Love
the hair! Where did you get that cut?”

Beginning to enjoy herself, Natalie tucked a curl behind her ear as she leaned down to whisper. “Arturo at the Meridian.”

“He is an artist!”

“Thanks. I’m looking for the Gibbs sisters.”

“Wonderful! Then you’ll get to meet my friend, Detective Natalie. She’s not here yet,” he said as he began to cut a path through the crowd for her. “You must tell her about Arturo.”

Natalie recalled that Chance had slipped Arturo an enormously large tip to layer her hair and pile on the products until it looked like she’d just got out of bed with a man. But she hadn’t gotten a chance to see if she could achieve the look naturally by doing just that.

Chance, the taskmaster, hadn’t made a move on her since she’d agreed to work with him on the Brancotti job.

There hadn’t been much time, of course. Still, the change in him had started her thinking.

Had he gotten his fill of Rachel Cade in one night just as he seemed to have gotten his fill of Natalie?

Would the same fate await Calli?

As they reached the stairs, she shot a quick look over her shoulder and caught her reflection again in the mirror. Calli might have something to say about that. Rachel definitely would. Perhaps the two women would have to tag-team him. A quick laugh bubbled up at the direction her thoughts had taken. On her own, she would never have come up with that idea. She was beginning to enjoy the different persons she was discovering within herself.

Rad stopped at the top of the short flight of stairs and pointed in the direction of her sisters. Pushing all thoughts of Chance out of her mind, Natalie made her way to the table.

“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked.

“Sorry,” Sierra said, glancing up at her.

“We’re waiting for our sister,” Rory explained.

“She won’t mind,” Natalie said as she settled herself in the empty chair.

“Now, wait just a minute,” Rory began. “You can’t just…”

“Wait.” Sierra cut off her sister by squeezing her hand. In the space of five beats, Natalie saw the recognition seep into her youngest sister’s eyes.

Three seconds later, Rory said, “Who in the hell are you supposed to be?”

“The name is Calli, and I’m a wannabe supermodel.”

“Okay,” Rory said, intrigued now. “I can buy that. The question is
why?
”

Natalie sighed and signaled a waiter. “It’s a long story, and I need a drink.”

“What’ll it be, ladies?”

“A martini, dry with an olive,” Natalie said.

“Make that three,” Rory said not taking her eyes off of Natalie. “And we’ll have the appetizer sampler.” The moment the waiter hurried off, she said, “Whatever the story is, I vote you wear that outfit every time we come here. We’ve never gotten service this fast before.”

“What I want to know is what happened to our dear cousin Rachel?” Sierra asked. “Didn’t the disguise work?”

“Oh, it worked. Maybe too well.” Then Natalie leaned forward and told them everything, pausing only when the waiter served their drinks. Once she’d finished, Rory drained the last of her martini and said, “You were getting bored with your job. This man has offered you the kind of assignment you’ve always secretly dreamed of having. On top of all that, you’re attracted to him. What’s the problem?”

Natalie shifted her gaze from Rory to Sierra.

Sierra shook her head. “Don’t look at me. I think Rory summed the situation up nicely.

Unless you don’t think you can pull it off.”

Natalie shook her head. “The job isn’t the problem. I can do it. It’s Chance. He’s the problem.”

“So?” Sierra asked. “Is he going to be any less of a problem if you change your mind and tell him Rachel doesn’t want to turn herself into Calli and fly to Florida tomorrow?”

Natalie thought for a minute. “No, but…”

“You’ll only regret it if you let this opportunity slip by,” Sierra said.

“And you won’t just be saying goodbye to the job. You’ll be kissing off the guy, too,” Rory pointed out. “Are you ready to do that yet?”

Natalie sipped her martini, then set her glass down. That was the real problem. She wasn’t ready to cut Chance adrift. Not yet.

“I thought spending another night with him would get him out of my system,” she said.

“That’s one of the problems with our society,” Sierra said. “We want quick fixes, and sometimes that’s just not possible.”

Narrowing her eyes, Natalie glanced from to Sierra to Rory. “I wanted the two of you to talk some sense into me.”

Rory shot her a bland look. “I thought that’s exactly what we were doing.”

“We think you ought to go,” Sierra said.

Natalie ran her finger around the rim of the martini she’d hardly touched. “I should probably tell him that I’m Natalie.”

“Why? It’s Rachel he invited along,” Sierra pointed out.

Rory grinned at her. “Do you really want to go back to being Natalie yet?”

“No.” She wasn’t ready to give up being Rachel Cade yet. “But I’ve never tried to be two people at once before.”

Rory rolled her eyes. “You can’t have forgotten that Halloween when you were Wonder Woman and you kept slipping away from us so you could reappear and terrorize us as Jason from
Friday the Thirteenth.
You did it three times before we figured out it was just you.”

Natalie laughed. “I had forgotten that. Still, this is a little different.”

“Do you still want Chance Mitchell?” Sierra asked.

“Yes, but…”

“That’s Natalie talking,” Sierra pointed out. “How does Rachel feel about it?”

Natalie grimaced. “She’s the one who said ‘yes.’”

“What about Calli?” Rory asked.

“
She’s
got her bags packed.”

“There you go,” Rory said. “Two to one—they’ve outvoted you.”

Sierra reached over to take her hand. “Calli and Rachel are parts of you. Maybe it’s time you trusted them.”

Grinning, Rory lifted her glass in a toast. “To quote Harry, ‘trust in your talents.’”

Sierra smiled and raised her glass. “‘Risk anything it takes.’”

CHANCE STRODE into the bedroom and checked the suitcases for the third time since Natalie had left. The designer name luggage looked well used. Brancotti would notice that.

He was a man who noticed everything. Not even a small detail would escape him. And new luggage would give rise to questions.

That had been the reason that he’d urged Natalie to pack some of Rachel’s clothes as well as the new things they’d purchased for “Calli.” He’d insisted on stopping by Natalie’s place where “Rachel” was staying so she could collect her belongings. Flipping open the top of one of the smaller pieces, Chance fingered a lace camisole in a shade of icy pink.

He’d often wondered what Detective Natalie Gibbs had worn beneath those tailored suits.

In his mind, he’d pictured the stereotypical black lace, but for some odd reason, he found the pale pastel shade even more alluring. Of course, he’d known that Natalie had her vulnerable side. What he hadn’t known was that it would appeal to him just as much as her strength did.

When he caught himself reaching for Rachel’s cosmetic bag, he stopped himself. He’d already checked it and assured himself that it contained a mix of new and old makeup—

just as any woman’s would. The only question he wanted in Brancotti’s mind was how much Steven Bradford would pay for the Ferrante—the diamond that had already caused the death of a fellow agent.

For a moment, he let himself think of Venetia Gaston, the woman who’d been his partner during his last encounter with the man who now called himself Carlo Brancotti. For two years, he’d blamed himself for Venetia’s death. He’d set up the meet, and it should have gone smoothly. Carlo was to bring the diamond he’d just stolen and Venetia was to turn over the money. Then Interpol would move in. But Venetia had never reached the spot where the exchange was to take place. Carlo had intercepted her somehow. When they’d found her body, the money had been gone, and she’d had a fake diamond in her purse.

Chance firmly pushed the image of Venetia out of his mind. Dwelling on a past mistake was not going to help him now. He drew his thoughts back to the present and lifted a skinny little tank top that he’d had “Calli” model for him earlier in the day. This time he wasn’t taking any chances. He was going to face his old nemesis himself, and he was taking someone in with him that Brancotti would have no way of knowing. Chance’s lips curved slightly. How could Brancotti know that the sexy woman known as Calli was also a tough cop who was equally adept at handling a gun and opening safes?

Chance dropped the tank top and closed the suitcase. The suite had suddenly seemed empty when she’d walked out. Her request to meet with her “cousins” had surprised him, but it had made sense. Of course, she would want to let her sisters know that she was leaving town. But what if she had second thoughts? How could he handle them if he wasn’t there?

Turning, he strode back into the living room of the suite. He’d just have to handle them when she got back. He wasn’t going to Florida without Natalie Gibbs. The file he’d shown her that afternoon was still spread out on the coffee table. He doubted she was aware of it, but when she worked she was all police detective. The intensity of her concentration and the strength of her endurance—both were qualities he’d come to admire throughout the long and grueling day he’d put her through.

She hadn’t once flinched or complained. And not so much as by a twitch of a muscle had she let it be known that anything in his old enemy’s file had shocked her. She’d looked up from it once to say, “You lost your partner?”

“Yes,” he’d said. She deserved to know the truth. “Brancotti killed her.”

“I’m sorry.” Then she’d gone back to reading the rest of the file. When she’d finished and met his eyes, there’d been the look of a warrior on her face.

Recalling it now, he felt more reassured than he’d been since she’d left. The woman who’d read that file wouldn’t back out on him. She wanted to bring Brancotti to justice almost as much as he did. Isn’t that why he’d wanted her with him in the first place?

Or at least partly the reason, he thought as his gaze moved to the foyer, one of the many places in the suite where they’d succumbed to their desires the night before. How many times during the day had he wanted to make love to her again? Hell, he’d nearly pulled her into the woods at Rock Creek Park and taken her there. The truth was he wanted Natalie/Rachel/Calli—all of the women who made up Natalie Gibbs—with an intensity that had him being…cautious. No woman had even made him cautious before.

When the doorbell rang, Chance strode forward to answer it. But it wasn’t Natalie he found on the other side. It was Tracker and Lucas, carrying a brown bag.

“Are we interrupting anything?” Lucas asked.

“No.” Chance hoped that he was hiding his disappointment as he stepped back from the door.

“We thought you might be busy with that blonde you left Sophie’s party with.” Tracker removed a six-pack of imported beer from the bag.

“‘Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,’” Chance quoted as he took the one Tracker offered to him. “What’s up?”

“Tracker is worried about you,” Lucas said.

Chance raised his brows. “I’m touched.”

“I’ve been doing a little digging on Brancotti, alias Phillipe Sagan, alias ‘Damien.’ The two of you go back a long way.”

Chance didn’t even let a flicker of surprise show. He’d known that Tracker was about the best there was when it came to running background checks, but he hadn’t expected him to unearth the “Damien” alias. Still, there was no way he could have traced Damien back to that orphanage. “I’ve been tracking him for a long time.”

“And you lost your partner in Rome two years ago,” Tracker said.

“Yes, I did.”

“Besides being dangerous, this man has the reputation of being very smart.” Tracker raised a hand when Chance opened his mouth to give his opinion. “Let me finish. Lucas and I will concede that you’re a very smart man, too. The thing is you nearly had Brancotti for stealing this diamond two years ago. He’s not a man who’ll forget that. Put yourself in his place. There’s a good chance that he took the time to find out exactly who was on his trail then, and that he’s kept tabs on you. He could be expecting you.”

Chance took a swallow of his beer. “I’m sure he is.”

“It could be a trap,” Lucas said.

Chance met his old friend’s eyes. “It could be. But I wouldn’t be where I am today if I ran every time I suspected a trap.”

Lucas glanced at Tracker. “I told you we wouldn’t talk him out of it.”

“Relax,” Chance said. “There’s no way he can suspect my cover. We’ve built it very carefully. Both Steven Bradford and his current love interest have agreed to go into seclusion until this is over. Their private plane will arrive here tomorrow morning. They will be whisked off in a hired limousine and delivered here to this suite where they will stay until the job is done. Steven is shy of the press. I won’t have any trouble passing for him.”

“I want to go in as your bodyguard,” Tracker said. “Someone who hides from the press as much as Bradford does would be eccentric enough to insist on a personal bodyguard.”