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  She met his eyes then. “I will.” And that was all she was going to think about for the rest of the evening—getting her hands on that diamond.

  “Ready?” Chance asked.

  The ringing of his cell phone prevented her from replying.

  “Yes, Harold,” Chance said.

  It was Tracker checking in again. He would have facts and figures to give Steven on the latest merger that Bradford Enterprises was engaged in. Sandwiched in would be anything important that Tracker wanted Chance to know.

  While she waited, Natalie checked herself one more time in the mirror and practiced walking back and forth.

  “There’s been a little shooting incident,” Chance said. “Nothing serious, but you can cancel the fishing trip and expect me back in New York tomorrow morning.”

  Nicely done, Natalie thought. Now, Tracker would know that they had to leave the island tonight. Once Chance pocketed his phone, he turned toward her and handed her one of the feathery masks that Carlo had provided. “Ready?”

  She felt her heart flip and tried to ignore it. This was a man who would never be hers, but they were about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime. This was why she’d signed on.

  Later, she’d test her ability to deal with a wounded heart. Right now, she was going to trust in her ability to pull off this job.

  “Ready,” she said and waddled toward him.

  14

  OVER THE TOP. That was the phrase that popped into Natalie’s mind the minute she walked into the main salon. Carlo had brought the room to life as surely as if he’d been the prince who’d awakened Sleeping Beauty. Crystal chandeliers glimmered overhead, and the wall of French doors stood open to the night. Across the room, tables draped in white linen cloths held silver buckets of champagne and trays of food. And there were flowers everywhere, their scents blending with candle wax and expensive perfume. A band played in the far corner of the dance floor, and she noted that the room was already more than half-filled with people.

  Carlo Brancotti’s masquerade ball was the party to be invited to in South Florida. She’d almost forgotten that, and as Natalie let her gaze sweep the room, she wondered how many politicians and other assorted celebrities hid behind the glittering, feathery masks that Carlo had provided. It was a night to pretend, to do things you might not if you were yourself.

  That’s what she was going to focus on. Taking a deep breath, she waddled at Chance’s side as they stepped into the line that was filing past Carlo and Lisa. Carlo’s assistant wore a blond wig and a long, white dress, glittering with sequins. Barbie, Natalie guessed.

  But Carlo didn’t resemble the rather preppy-looking Ken. He wore a tuxedo with the same flair and effect as James Bond. With his long hair pulled back and fastened with a gold clip at the back of his neck, and one diamond glinting in his ear, he looked to be what he was—

  a rich, powerful man. There was nothing on the surface to even hint at the ruthless lowlife beneath.

  “Ah, the film celebrities…” He paused and turned to Lisa. “Let me present Oliver Hardy and Stan Laurel.” As Chance took Lisa’s hand, Carlo continued, “And my companion, Barbie.”

  Natalie was sure that Carlo recognized her when he took her hand. And she also noted that he wore a tiny listening device in his ear—a clever way to get updates from his security people. The moment they were out of earshot, she nudged Chance and spoke in a tone only he could hear. “He’s got a receiver in his ear.”

  “And a microphone in his tie. He hasn’t survived this long without being very cautious.

  Want to try the food?”

  “No, thanks.” She patted her stomach. “Right now, it’s pretty jammed up with nerves.”

  “Then, we’ll dance.”

  “Dance?” she asked as he drew her onto the dance floor.

  “Yes. I take your hand, like this, and I put my other hand at your waist, like this.”

  “I understand the concept—but we’re two men.”

  “It’s a masquerade,” he said as he guided her smoothly into the rhythm of the music.

  “Anything goes.”

  “This is ridiculous,” she said.

  “No,” Chance murmured as he steered her down the length of the ballroom. “I’ve decided that we’re going to hit the gallery while Carlo is still tied up in the reception line.”

  Nerves jumped in Natalie’s stomach. “It’s too soon. We just got here.”

  “Call it a preemptive strike. He won’t expect anything this soon. And if the real diamond is in the gallery safe, we’ll be gone before he’s even suspicious.”

  The moment they reached the far door, he drew her through it and down across the hall.

  “If you try to disable the camera, he’ll send the troops after us,” she said.

  “Got it covered. Just follow my lead.” With his hand on the knob, Chance paused long enough to meet her eyes. “Ready?”

  Ready? How could she be when she had no idea what he was up to? But in spite of the nerves dancing in her stomach, Natalie felt the wave of excitement move through her.

  “Let’s go for it.”

  “That’s my girl,” Chance said, leaning in to press his lips to hers as he opened the door and drew her into the small gallery. An instant later, he spun her around and pressed her against the closed door. Then his mouth was at her ear. “I’m going to tell you to strip for me. Make sure that you toss something to cover the camera.”

  Before she could reply or even think, his mouth was on hers again. For one giddy moment, she wondered if Stan was kissing Ollie or if Steven was kissing Calli. Then she no longer cared as the heat shot through her. His mouth was as ruthless and demanding as the hands he was running over her. As her knees turned to water and her arms moved around him, her body strained toward his. But there were too many clothes, too much padding in the way.

  Suddenly, he backed away, swearing in frustration. “I can’t feel you through all of those clothes. Get rid of them.”

  Natalie stared at him. His hair was mussed from her hands, and his eyes were hot with a mixture of desire and frustration. She felt an odd little thrill move through her. So he wanted her to strip? Okay, she’d strip.

  Not moving, she said, “Sit down.”

  “I said I want your clothes off.”

  She took the feathered mask off first, then she moved toward him until her padded stomach was pressed against his. As she ran a finger down the front of his shirt to the waistband of his trousers, she said, “I’m going to take them all off. But it’s going to take a while, so why not relax and enjoy it?” Then with her finger still prodding him, she urged him into the chair closest to the security camera.

  The tie came first. She took her time pulling it off and then she looped it around his neck.

  “What do you want me to take off next, Steven?” she asked as she backed a few steps away.

  “The coat. Take the coat off.”

  She smiled as she freed the first button. “I can do that.” Then she took her time, freeing one arm from the sleeve and then the other. Finally, as she lifted it and twirled it over her head, she considered. It was too soon to aim it at the camera. Besides, the security team might find the whole scenario more convincing if they could share a bit in the show.

  Natalie sent the coat flying wild. Then she fastened her gaze directly on Chance’s eyes and smiled. “What would you like me to take off next, Sugar?”

  He raised a hand and flicked a finger. “The trousers.”

  “Sure thing.” Natalie unfastened the belt slowly. In spite of the nerves dancing in her stomach, she was finding it erotic to strip for Chance—and for whomever was watching through that camera.

  So far, she hadn’t exposed any skin, but she could feel the heat of Chance’s gaze right through her clothes. In one long smooth movement, she pulled the belt free and set it on the floor next to her. A muscle twitched in his jaw. She made it twitch again as she sent the trousers pooling to the floor. “You like this, don’t yo
u?”

  “Shoes.”

  The request surprised her. Maybe he was letting her know that he approved of her plan to prolong the striptease. She toed the shoes off, then crossed to him and placed one foot on his knee. Inch by inch, she rolled her socks down and pulled them off. She was close enough now that she could tell his breath wasn’t steady. It grew more ragged as she repeated the process with the other sock. Then propping her hands on either side of the chair, she leaned in. Her mouth was a breath away from his when she said, “What next?”

  He reached for her then, but she slipped away and laughed. “Let me choose this time. The shirt.” She made it last—one button at a time, then the sleeves. She’d never before realized that stripping was as erotic and arousing for the stripper as it was for the audience. But just the brush of the fabric as she pulled it down her arms was sensitizing her skin. Raising the shirt high above her head, she twirled it just as she had the jacket. But this time, she aimed for the camera.

  Bull’s-eye.

  “Take off that damn padding.”

  She did and she immediately bent over to take out her tools.

  “Come here,” Chance said. “I want to touch you now.”

  His voice was ragged, but when she glanced up, she saw that he wasn’t in the chair anymore. Instead, he was opening the window. For their escape, she thought. Then she turned to the column and prayed that the safe was where she thought it was.

  Though she hadn’t heard him approach, he was there, lifting the bronze sundial off the wall. At the sight of the small safe, she let her heart take one little leap of triumph before she put on the earphones and began work.

  “Here. This is where you like to be touched, isn’t it?”

  He wasn’t touching her at all, but Natalie found she had to use all of her powers of concentration to keep from feeling that he was.

  “And here. Right here where you’re so wet and slick and hot.”

  Immediately, she was. She could feel the wetness pooling between her legs. Damn him.

  Promising herself that she was going to get even, she listened for the last tumbler to fall into place. The moment it did, she decided that two could play at the game that Chance had started.

  In the huskiest voice she could muster, she said, “Bite me there. Yes. Oh yes. Yes.” Then on a breathy moan, she opened the safe. The sight of the red velvet bag had her heart leaping.

  Chance reached for it before she could, and a second later, the largest and most beautiful diamond she’d ever seen caught the light. To the naked eye, at least, it appeared to be real.

  But Chance was already examining it with a jeweler’s loop. Without taking his eyes off of the diamond, he mouthed, “Keep the scenario going” and stepped up close to her.

  She let out a long breathy moan. It wasn’t hard, not with Chance’s thigh pressing hard between her legs. “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  Only seconds ticked by, but to Natalie it seemed longer. Then Chance shook his head.

  Swallowing her disappointment, she watched as he slipped the fake diamond back into the red velvet pouch and replaced it in the safe. As he rehung the bronze sun, she replaced her tools in the small pouch she wore. Then before she could even breathe, Chance had her pressed back against the column.

  She didn’t even have time to absorb the sensation before he rained a string of kisses along her cheek to her ear and whispered, “Before we leave, we have to play out this little scenario to the end. Otherwise, they’ll wonder why suddenly everything got so quiet.”

  Then in a louder voice, he said, “I love to touch you here. And here.” He ran his hands from her throat to her breasts and then slowly, lower and lower, until he slipped his finger beneath her panties and found her.

  “And especially here.” His mouth was so close that she could feel his breath on her lips.

  And he was barely touching her. His finger hardly entered her before withdrawing.

  “I love to touch you here.” His eyes were so focused, so hot. His fingers pushed into her—

  not far enough, not nearly—then withdrew.

  She should push him away. In some far corner of her mind, she remembered that someone was listening to every word he said. And they still had to get the real diamond from the safe in Carlo’s office. But with the pleasure streaming through her, she couldn’t find the strength to raise her hands.

  “Come for me, Calli. I want to see you come. Now.”

  Afterward, she would wonder if he could have made her come simply by commanding her to. There was something in his voice, something in the way he was looking at her…

  But he didn’t leave it to chance. As the heat of his words coursed through her, he slipped his fingers into her again—deeper this time. “Steven.” That one gasp was all she managed before the orgasm that had been building since she’d started the strip tease slammed into her.

  He held her there, propped against the column until the last wave of it receded, then he whispered against her ear. “Get dressed. We have to go now.” She took some satisfaction in hearing that his voice wasn’t quite steady.

  She pulled on the clothes he handed her, a flood of emotions pouring through her. Shock, wonder—those were the only ones she could identify easily. And just below the surface, racing through her veins, was fear. No one had ever had this kind of effect on her, this kind of power over her. What was she going to do when their adventure was over?

  “Ready?”

  The whispered question had her dragging her thoughts back to the present. Chance was stooping at the open window, planting a listening device. If and when Carlo sent security to check the room, they’d have some advance warning.

  At least that was the plan as he’d described it to her in the bathroom.

  Chance crossed to the chair he’d been seated in and tucked a small tape recorder under it.

  For as long as the tape lasted, all anyone would hear would be a couple making love. The plan had been to play the tape from the moment she’d finished her striptease and blocked the camera. But Chance had decided to improvise.

  There’d be time enough to worry about that after they’d finished what they came here to do. She moved to the window.

  As he joined her, she became aware for the first time that he was wearing a cape and a mask.

  On some level, she’d been aware that the clothes he’d handed her fit like a second skin, but it was only when he handed her a mask that she realized they were wearing new costumes. A quick glance down at her own confirmed her suspicion. Batman and Cat Woman.

  Clever, she decided. The outfits would help them blend into the darkness of night and if they were caught, the new costumes should buy them a little time.

  Chance said nothing as he threw one leg over the window ledge. His movements were smooth as he twisted and drew his other leg out. Then he was gone.

  The only sound in the room came from the tape as she murmured Steven’s name. Even above the scent of flowers from the garden, she caught the smell of sex. Anyone entering would have to be convinced that someone had made love in this room. Was that why Chance had made her come? Was it simply his way of being thorough? Or had it simply been to buy them extra time?

  Later, she promised herself. Later, she’d not only have answers, she’d have revenge.

  Natalie threw one leg over the edge of the sill, twisted, wiggled and let gravity pull her until only her fingers were gripping the window ledge. Then she dropped.

  The impact was still singing up her legs when Chance grabbed her hand and they began to edge their way along the wall of the house.

  CARLO SCANNED the ballroom as he listened to the report from his chief of security through the small receiver in his ear. The shooter they’d been interrogating all day had finally named the man who’d hired him. Hassam Aldiri.

  The news confirmed what Carlo had already suspected. Aldiri had a reputation for ruthlessness and Carlo had heard that the man would do anything to get what he wanted.

  Lifting a hand, Car
lo rubbed at the knot of tension that had settled at the back of his neck.

  Soon it would turn into the same raging headache he always got when he had to suppress his anger.

  He was angry—furious—because Aldiri had hired someone to shoot a guest on his estate.

  And he was also angry at himself for not anticipating that a man with Aldiri’s reputation might try something like this.

  “Before you dispose of the shooter,” Carlo said into his microphone, “I want to know how he got past my security system.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Carlo let his gaze sweep the room again.

  “And about the other matter, sir?”

  A couple dressed as Oliver and Hardy had slipped into his gallery fifteen minutes ago and were currently making love. Carlo knew from an earlier report that the couple was Steven Bradford and Calli. Thanks to his security staff, he knew the identity of every person in the main salon.

  He also knew about Calli’s striptease. Evidently, Bradford and Calli weren’t as upset by the shooting as he was. His gaze rested on Risa Manwaring and Armand Genovese.

  They’d arrived together as Napoleon and Josephine, and currently they were dancing.

  As far as he knew, they’d met each other for the first time at dinner last night. Had they teamed up to buy the diamond? That would surely make tonight’s auction more interesting…and profitable.

  Carlo rubbed at the back of his neck again. Part of his tension was due to the fact that he still wasn’t sure if one of his new guests was Chance Mitchell.

  “Should I send someone into the gallery, sir?”

  Carlo dragged his attention back to the voice in his ear. “You haven’t lost the audio in the room?” he asked.

  “No. They’re getting that loud and clear.”

  Carlo bit back a smile. He could imagine that the volume was turned up high in the security room, and there must have been a loud groan of protest when they’d lost the video. For a moment, he debated whether or not to send guards into the gallery. Doing so might embarrass the couple, and they’d already been shot at today.

  Glancing at his watch, he said, “I’ll handle it in about fifteen minutes. But let me know if you lose the audio.”