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Opening locks had been a game then, something she’d done in the precious time that her father had spent alone with her. With Rory he’d played cards. With Sierra he’d read books. But during the time he’d spent with her, they’d worked on locks. Even that first time, the last number had given her trouble. She recalled how he’d put a hand on her shoulder and said, “You can do it, Nat. Trust in your talents. You can do anything you want.”

And she could. After drawing in a deep breath, she held it and focused all her attention on the connection between her mind and her fingers. The only sound in the room was the soft whir of the overhead fan. But even that faded when she felt the tiny click.

Someone pounded on the door.

With steady hands, she opened the door of the safe, grabbed the black velvet bag, and checked the contents. In it lay a diamond, the twin to the one they’d found in the gallery safe. There was no time for the jeweler’s loop this time. Chance barely had time to replace it with the fake diamond they’d brought with them before the wood frame of the door began to splinter.

Together they closed the safe and replaced the painting.

The noise at the door grew louder, and wood splintered again.

Chance grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the French doors. Shouts came from beyond the patio wall.

They were trapped. For one moment they stood frozen in the frame of the open French doors. Shouts beyond the patio were getting closer, louder. The door to the office was about to give. Chance stripped off his mask and threw it toward the patio wall. Then he shoved her behind a floor-to-ceiling drape at the side of the door. A second later, Natalie felt her breath go out on a whoosh as he flattened her against the wall. Heart hammering, she waited.

The door gave first and there was the sound of guards rushing forward. Then the darkness fled as someone flipped on the lights.

“Get out of the way.”

Natalie recognized Carlo’s voice even when he slipped into Italian and swore viciously.

He must have seen the guard lying on the patio.

There was a rush of wind to her left as guards entered through the French doors. For one long second, the drape covering them puffed out. Natalie could have sworn that her heart skipped three beats until it settled around them again.

“Tell me you’ve got them,” Carlo said.

His voice was close now—inches away. Chance had gone still as a statue, but she could feel every muscle in his body tense.

“No, sir. There’s no sign of them. All we got is this.”

Carlo swore again. And again, the curtain shifted with the breeze. This time, out of the corner of her eye, Natalie caught a quick glimpse of Carlo standing in the doorway, taking something from the guard. If he turned right now, he would see them.

It came to her in a flash that Chance would be the one Carlo would catch sight of first.

Chance would be the one that Carlo would shoot. She felt her heart stop and then the drape settled around them in slow motion.

“They can’t be far. Cover the beach and the woods. I want them caught. Bring them to me alive, if possible.”

In some part of her mind, Natalie knew that the guards had left and Carlo had moved away. The room had become silent except for the sound of the overhead fan whirring.

Then she heard a scraping sound. Her heart skipped a beat. Carlo must be removing the painting so that he could check the safe.

Seconds ticked away. Natalie had to remind herself to breathe slowly, silently. What would happen if he discovered that the diamond in the pouch was a fake?

“Lisa?” Carlo had to be talking to Lisa on his cell phone.

“Everything is under control. I have the diamond right here in my hand. No. I don’t have them yet. But I’ve issued orders that no one is allowed to leave the estate.”

Chance shifted slightly. For one long moment, Natalie wondered if he would step from behind the curtain to confront his old enemy. The urge to do just that must be tearing him apart. She found his hand and gripped it tightly in hers.

“Tell Aldiri and the others that the auction will take place in an hour.”

Carlo’s voice was firm now, without a trace of the temper and anger that had filled it when he’d come into the room.

“You worry too much. I’m bringing the diamond with me. Tell them one hour from now in the gallery.”

Natalie counted off ten beats as she listened to the sounds of Carlo closing the safe, replacing the painting and leaving the room. It was ten beats more before Chance stepped away from her and drew her from behind the drape.

She threw her arms around him then and held tight. A flood of emotions swept through her. He was safe. They both were for the moment, and she didn’t want to let him go.

Natalie wasn’t sure how long they both stood like that before Chance drew away. “We have to go.”

“I thought you were going to step out and confront him,” she said.

Chance met her eyes steadily. “I was.”

“But you didn’t. Why not?”

“Because I knew my partner would follow right behind. Besides, I came up with a plan.”

He took a piece of paper from Carlo’s desk and wrote one word. “Gianni.”

Natalie understood exactly what he was doing. She thought of the young boy betrayed by his friend and sent to jail for something he hadn’t done. Then she let herself imagine Carlo finding and reading that note—after the auction.

Meeting Chance’s eyes, she said, “He thinks he still has the real diamond.”

Chance smiled at her. “Ego. He didn’t think that we could pull it off, and he found a diamond in each safe. So he didn’t bother to check.” He placed the note in the middle of Carlo’s desk.

“And he won’t find it until after the auction.”

“Oh, I think the fake will be discovered before that,” Chance said. “I can’t imagine any of those prospective buyers parting with a cent until they authenticate the diamond.”

“They won’t be too happy with Carlo when they realize it’s a fake,” Natalie said. “And I don’t think I’d want any of those characters unhappy with me.”

“Hopefully, the fear of retribution will keep Carlo here on his estate until I can get Interpol to send someone to arrest him,” Chance said.

She threw her arms around Chance and gave him a quick kiss. “I wish I’d known you when you were Gianni.”

FOR A MOMENT, Chance said nothing. He simply looked at her. Her words and the simple gesture of affection unlocked something deep inside of him and released a flood of emotions. A thousand images flashed into his mind—a kaleidoscope of everything that had happened in the short time since they had begun this crazy adventure together.

She was the most amazing woman he’d ever known. And the most complicated. There were so many facets to her. In the moonlight that poured into the room, he saw that her eyes were bright with excitement and triumph. He’d seen those eyes so many ways. Filled with a cool, steady courage. Lighted with laughter. And darkened by passion.

And he’d seen the intensity in those eyes when she was thinking only of him, feeling only him. He wanted to tell her. He needed to—

A crack split the still night air, and Chance dragged his thoughts back to the present.

“C’mon.”

“Was that gunfire?” Natalie asked as they raced into the courtyard.

“Tracker’s version of misdirection. One of his men is presently escaping in the inflatable boat we were supposed to use.”

“Supposed to use?” Natalie asked.

Chance leaned down, scooped up the guard’s weapon, and tossed it to her. “That’s one of the reasons I don’t have much use for plans. They usually have to be changed.”

To what? But Natalie didn’t ask the question as she stuffed the gun into her waistband.

Chance had already moved to the wall and was cupping his hands. By the time he’d boosted her to the top and joined her, they could hear running footsteps beyond the trees that grew along the wall and farther away came the rapid cough of automatic fire.

Together, they dropped to the ground.

“Where to?” Natalie asked. But Chance was already drawing her in the opposite direction from which they’d come. As they edged their way between the trees and the wall of the villa, Natalie realized one amazing thing. She was almost getting used to Chance’s habit of improvising plans on the spur of the moment. Almost, she reminded herself when she realized they’d made a complete circle of the villa. By the time they reached the iron gate that closed off the kitchen wing, she could hear the music from the ballroom once more.

Then Chance stopped and drew out the cell phone he always used to communicate with Tracker. Holding it to his ear, he said one word, “Now.”

A few moments later, the iron gate to the kitchen wing swung open and a white van moved forward. Natalie barely had time to read the words, “At Your Service,” on the paneling before a large woman in a tight-fitting white uniform climbed out and said in a husky voice, “Catering to your every need.”

Natalie was reaching for the gun at her waist when Chance grabbed her wrist. “It’s Tracker. C’mon.”

He drew her with him as the “woman” opened the back doors to the van. Natalie had a hard time recognizing Tracker McBride. He was wearing a blond wig, and unless she’d known, she wouldn’t have guessed that the snug-fitting uniform hid the tough, athletic body that she knew he possessed.

“The security is tight here. The guard searched the back of the van when I came in because I wasn’t on his list from the catering company.”

“Do I want to know how you convinced him to let you in?” Chance asked, amusement clear in his voice as he climbed into the back of the van and held out a hand to Natalie.

Tracker patted the blond wig he was wearing and wiggled his hips. “My charm, of course.

We developed quite a rapport.”

“It’ll be tougher this time,” Chance warned. “Carlo has instructed the guards that no one is allowed to leave.”

“I love a challenge,” Tracker said with a grin before he shut the doors.

“He seems confident,” Natalie murmured.

“If anyone can get us out, he can,” Chance assured her.

“He’ll want to search the van.” Tracker spoke from behind the wheel at the front of the van this time. “Think you can handle it?”

“No problem,” Chance said. “I’ve got my partner with me.”

Partner. The sound of the word warmed Natalie and eased the jumping nerves in her stomach. Neither she nor Chance spoke as the van moved forward and eventually pulled to a stop at the gate.

“Lots of excitement,” Tracker said to the guard, using his husky almost falsetto voice.

“Mr. Brancotti is a stickler when it comes to security, and there was a problem earlier today. I can’t let anyone leave.”

Tracker laughed. “Do I look like I pose any threat to Mr. Brancotti? And you checked me out earlier.”

There was a pause, and Natalie wondered just what Tracker was up to.

“Be a sport,” Tracker continued. “I’ve delivered the extra food they needed, and I have a date tonight. You can check the back of the van.”

There was another silence, but Natalie could hear the guard and Tracker walking along the side of the van. It was dark and she could barely see Chance, but they moved in unison, flattening themselves into the corners on either side of the doors.

A moment later the doors opened and the guard, flashlight in one hand and gun in the other, stepped up into the van. Natalie slipped her foot out, and when he stumbled, Chance clipped him hard on the back of his neck. The man fell like a stone.

“Nice going,” Tracker said as Chance leaned down to tie the guard’s hands behind his back. “You guys make a great team.”

Natalie turned to Tracker. “How did you convince him to take a look?”

Tracker shot her a grin. “Money. Sometimes, it works a lot faster than my charm—” he smoothed his hands over his hips “—though I can’t imagine why.”

NATALIE DRIFTED awake as if she were surfacing from a long dive. The scent of coffee was the first thing that her conscious mind identified. Then everything came back to her in a rush. She and Chance had stolen the Ferrante diamond from Carlo Brancotti, and they’d left a fake one behind. Mission accomplished!

Once they’d taken care of the guard at the gate, their escape with Tracker in the van had gone without a hitch. Carlo’s security team had been focused on the beach area. For a moment, she allowed her mind to linger on those few charged moments in the van when she and Chance had been so in tune about how to take out the guard. They might have been working together for years.

The events after that had been less clear. At some point after they’d boarded Steven Bradford’s plane, the adrenaline rush she’d been riding on all day had faded, and she’d fallen asleep. She vaguely remembered that Chance had carried her into the bedroom.

Then nothing.

Opening her eyes, she saw that she was still in the bedroom on the plane. And Chance was gone. But he’d been here. At some point, she’d felt him lying beside her, holding her. The pillow next to hers still bore the indentation from his head. As she ran her hand over it, she realized that the plane was stopped.

Just when had they landed? Throwing the covers off, she noted that she was still wearing her Cat Woman costume. She checked the bathroom first, but it too was empty. After taking a moment to brush her teeth and run her fingers through her hair, she moved quickly to the door.

But it was Tracker and not Chance that she saw sitting at a table, tapping at the keys of his laptop. He glanced up immediately. “Good morning. Want some coffee?”