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.”
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
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.
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 pImages** arranged on the page. They were his favorites. The first was