OPERATION BABE-MAGNET / OPERATION BEAUTY

by Kristin Gabriel

  To top it off, he was no closer to getting his hands on the Seductress bra. When he'd mentioned it again to Lauren, she'd called Mrs. Chavez, who had assured her it was on its way. At least Lauren seemed to have put their disastrous date completely out of her mind. She hadn't mentioned Sam's name once in the last week.

  But she'd certainly been on his mind. The more he got to know Lauren McBride, the more he liked her. And the worse he felt about deceiving her. Sam headed for the door, not wanting to be late meeting Travis at the hot-dog stand.

  Maybe the kid could give him some advice about girls.

  "I can't believe you ate three hot dogs," Sam said, as he and Travis sat on a park bench near the hot-dog stand.

  "You had four," Travis countered, unconcerned of the ring of ketchup smeared around his mouth.

  Sam handed him some paper napkins. "Time to come clean, kid. Why aren't you in school?"

  Travis stared down at the sidewalk, the napkins crumpled in his hand. "'Cause."

  "'Cause why?"

  "'Cause school is stupid."

  "Is there anything in particular about school that's stupid or just all of it."

  His mouth tightened. "All of it."

  "Even recess?"

  Travis shrugged. "Okay, mainly my math teacher is stupid. Mr. Hansen."

  Now they were getting somewhere. "And what kind of thing do stupid math teachers do?"

  Travis looked up, his cheeks red. "Embarrass you in front of the whole class. Just 'cause I told a secret to Ashley."

  "Who's Ashley?"

  "That girl who used to bug me all the time," Travis replied. "But she doesn't really bug me as much anymore. Anyway, I told her a secret and Mr. Hansen saw me and made me stand up and tell it to the whole class. Only I wouldn't."

  "How come?"

  Travis looked at him like the answer was obvious. "Because the secret I told her was that I liked her. Everybody would have made fun of me. And made fun of her, too. She would have hated me forever."

  Sam's heart ached for the kid, who was riding the roller coaster of his first romance. "So you didn't tell the secret?"

  Travis shook his head and tears gleamed in his clear green eyes. "But Mr. Hansen just kept looking at me, making me stand there in front of the whole class forever."

  Sam could remember a time when he'd been the center of attention, standing up in front of his fifth-grade class, a book of poetry in his hands. He was supposed to read "A Brook in the City," and was ready to do it, having memorized the passage after checking out an audiotape of Robert Frost poems from the public library. But at the very last minute, his teacher changed her mind and wanted him to read "The Cow in Apple Time." So he stood up there like an idiot, unable to read the poem. Too damn proud to tell anyone the reason why.

  Not only had Sam received an F for the assignment, but his teacher had called his mother to the school to discuss her concerns about his reading ability. He could still remember the hot flush of embarrassment on his mother's face. The way she had looked at him. It wasn't long after that meeting that he and Dexter had been sent to live with their grandfather. He'd never admitted to his brother that their exile had been his fault.

  "I'm never going back there," Travis proclaimed, tilting his chin up.

  "Okay."

  Travis blinked. "Okay?"

  Sam shrugged. "You've got to do what you think is right." He let that sink in for a moment. "Although, I bet Ashley will sure miss you. Especially now that she knows you're a boy she can trust."

  "But I looked stupid."

  "Not to her," Sam assured him. "Do you think she wanted you to tell everybody in the class the secret?"

  He slowly shook his head. "No."

  "Do you think your teacher was right to embarrass you like that?"

  "No."

  "So are you going to let him chase you out of school? And keep you away from Ashley?"

  Travis scowled. "No, cause I didn't do anything wrong."

  "Sometimes, it's hard to do the right thing," Sam said, ruffling the boy's hair. "But I'm real proud of you, Travis. I think you did the right thing."

  His face brightened. "You do?"

  Sam nodded, determined to have a private conference with Mr. Hansen. "And I'll be even prouder when you're brave enough to walk back into that school."

  Travis took a deep breath. "I think maybe I could go back this afternoon. But can we stop for ice cream on the way? That always helps me feel brave."

  Sam grinned, then gave him a high five. "Deal."

  After he dropped Travis off, he drove back to his apartment to transform himself into Philomena once again. It was becoming more routine each time he did it, although he still chafed at all the makeup he had to wear. Sam stopped to check his telephone messages before heading out the door. He was shocked to hear Lauren's voice.

  "Hi, Sam, this is Lauren McBride. I wanted to thank you once again for our date the other night. I had a lovely time."

  So lovely she'd cried her eyes out, Sam thought to himself, feeling like a heel once more.

  "And just in case you're interested, I have a couple of tickets to a Steelers game next Sunday afternoon. It's not a big deal," she said hastily, "but I thought it might be fun to get together again."

  She hesitated, and he could almost see her working up her courage in his mind. "Give me a call if you want to go. My number is 555-6740."

  Then he heard the dial tone and just stood there, letting the sound fill the air until he finally hung up the phone. He knew how much courage it had taken her to call him again. How much she feared rejection. Was that the reason she hadn't told Philomena about her plan to call him for another date?

  Despite Sam's better judgment, he knew he couldn't let her down. He'd already made her cry once. He'd be damned if he'd do it again. And if he was honest with himself, he wanted to see her again—as a man. To kiss her again. No matter what the risk.

  Sam picked up the phone.

  * * *

  11

  « ^ »

  Lauren and Sam cheered as the final seconds ticked off in the football game. The Pittsburgh Steelers had pulled off an exciting win with an interception in the last two minutes. She shivered as a brisk north wind blew through the stands.

  "Cold?" he asked, as they headed toward the exit.

  "A little."

  He unzipped his coat, then took it off and wrapped it around her shoulders, enveloping her in his warmth. "Is that better?"

  "Much," she murmured, smiling up at him. Their date had been magical from the moment Sam had picked her up at her apartment. They'd exchanged funny stories of past football games on the way to the stadium. Then discovered they both shared a passion for Polish dogs and beer. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun.

  Or been so attracted to a man.

  She just wished he felt the same. Sam had been a perfect gentleman. Too perfect in her opinion. He hadn't held her hand, or put his arm around her or tried to kiss her once. Even when she'd dropped a hint about the Texas A&M tradition of couples kissing after the home team scored. The Steelers had racked up thirty points, but Lauren hadn't received one kiss.

  "You must be freezing," she said, as they reached the parking lot. "Here, take your coat back."

  He shook his head. "Believe me, freezing is not my problem at the moment."

  Her own cheeks warmed at the implication, which gave her hope. Maybe he simply didn't like public displays of affection. They dined on burgers and fries at a local sports bar, playing a game of pool and three games of darts. She was surprised at how comfortable she felt with him. It was almost as if they'd been friends forever.

  They arrived back at her apartment close to midnight and Lauren was as apprehensive as a teenager on her first date wondering if she'd get a good-night kiss.

  But although Sam walked her to her door, he kept his distance. "I had a great time, Lauren."

  "Me, too."

  "Maybe we can get together again sometime."

&nb
sp; She'd heard that line before. Why did he even agree to go out with her if he wasn't interested? Of course, a free football ticket might be hard to refuse. She gave him a polite smile. "That would be nice."

  "How about tomorrow?"

  Lauren looked up, surprised. "Tomorrow?"

  Sam took a step closer to her. "I meant what I said. I'd really like to get together again. Soon. Can we meet for lunch?"

  "I have class all day."

  "Okay, then how about tomorrow night? What time do you get out of class?"

  "Five o'clock. I should be home by five thirty."

  He grinned. "I'll pick you up a five thirty-five."

  "I'll be ready," she said, still feeling a little confused. She said good-night, then walked into the apartment, hoping Philomena could give her some insights on her cousin's unusual behavior. But the spare bedroom door was closed, her roommate obviously asleep already.

  Tomorrow would have to be soon enough to find out if she could risk falling in love with Sam.

  Sam paced back and forth outside the door to Lauren's apartment, telling himself he was crazy for even showing up here again. He should have gone straight back to his apartment, transformed himself into Philomena and put Lauren out of his mind until their date tomorrow night.

  Right. He might as well tell himself to stop breathing. Setting his jaw, he rapped sharply on Lauren's door.

  A few moments later, she opened it a crack, the chain still attached. "Sam?"

  "Hi." He was surprised to see her already in her robe. How long had he been driving around? "I couldn't sleep. I hope I didn't get you out of bed."

  "No, I was just working on a crossword puzzle. I couldn't sleep either." She unhooked the chain, then opened the door wider. "Come on in."

  He hesitated. "It's late…"

  "Please," she entreated, giving him the beautiful smile he found so entrancing. "I need help with ten down."

  He walked inside, his pulse beating a rapid warning signal that he chose to ignore. What could it hurt to stay for a few minutes? She closed the door behind him and locked it again. Then she turned to face him.

  Sam swallowed hard, aware that only one lamp burned in the living room, casting cozy shadows around the small room. From the damp curls on Lauren's shoulders and the provocative scent of honeysuckle in the air, he knew she'd just emerged from a bubble bath. The honeysuckle bath beads were her favorite. Funny how living with a woman gave a man intimate knowledge of her world. Taught him so many of her secrets.

  But there was so much more about Lauren that he longed to know.

  She walked over to the sofa and sat down, picking up the folded newspaper and pen setting on the coffee table. "Okay, the clue for ten down is arboreal primate. And it's five letters long and ends with an R."

  "Lemur," he replied, moving closer to her.

  "You're right," she exclaimed, neatly penciling the word in the squares. "How did you know that?"

  "I watch a lot of National Geographic on television."

  She patted the sofa cushion beside. "Sit down. You look tired."

  He felt exhausted. Juggling two identities had proved much harder than he'd ever imagined. Especially when he had to put so much energy into resisting the charms of Lauren McBride. It had been sheer hell keeping his distance from her during then-date. So what was he doing here now? "I really can't stay long."

  "Just help me finish this crossword puzzle. I'm almost done."

  He couldn't resist the entreaty in her deep blue eyes. He sat down next to her, sinking into a deep spot on the old sofa.

  "Here," she said, scooting over to make more room for him beside her. "Move a little closer. You'll be more comfortable."

  He seriously doubted it, but he moved anyway. For some inexplicable reason, he'd left all his willpower at the door. Along with his better judgment.

  She studied the crossword puzzled, chewing on the end of her pencil. "I'm not sure if fifteen across is right." She turned the paper toward him. "What do you think?"

  He took the newspaper out of her hand and tossed it on the coffee table. "I think you need a break." Then he drew her into his arms. He told himself it was just a defense mechanism. One he'd used a hundred times before to keep from revealing his secret.

  But in his heart he knew the truth. Another secret he didn't intend to admit to anyone—including himself.

  "I think you're right," she said, snuggling against him. Her lips grazed his jaw, then skimmed over his neck. "Hmm. You taste good."

  He closed his eyes, relishing the softness of her body against rum. The way her voice soothed his raw nerves. She felt so right in his arms. So right in his life.

  Then her mouth captured his in a sweet, hot kiss and he stopped thinking at all. Her hands slid under his shirt, eliciting a groan from deep in his chest when her fingertips brushed against his flat nipples. She leaned back, drawing him down with her on the sofa.

  Sam's whole body tightened at the sensation of Lauren beneath him. Blood pounded in his veins as his tongue sought entrance into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, her tongue tangling with his. All of Sam's good intentions to keep their relationship platonic burned away in a fiery blaze of heat and passion.

  Her robe gaped open, revealing the creamy swell of her breasts. Sam lowered his head, dropping kisses along her delicate collarbone, then lower. She arched her neck as he encountered the lacy border of the pink camisole she wore under the robe. He pushed the thin fabric aside, seeking the treasure underneath.

  A moan escaped her throat as his mouth closed over her breast. Sam had never wanted to please a woman more than he wanted to please Lauren in this moment. To fulfill her every desire.

  She pulled him up to her again, her kisses more demanding now. Her hands tugged at his T-shirt, and they stopped kissing just long enough for her to pull it off over his head. Then they fell together again. Kissing. Touching. Exploring.

  "I want you so much," Sam breathed against her mouth.

  "Me too."

  He felt her fingers fumbling against the fly of his jeans and groaned aloud. The sudden blare of a radio made them both jump.

  Lauren sat half up on the sofa, her cheeks flushed. "That sounds like it's coming from Philomena's room. She must still be awake."

  Sam closed his eyes as the strains of classical music echoed down the hallway. He'd forgotten about that damn clock radio. He'd set it this morning so he could use Philomena's presence as an excuse to put an end to their date, if need be. Only their date hadn't turned out exactly as he'd planned. And now he didn't want it to end.

  Lauren leaned toward him and kissed him again, her hands caressing his bare chest. "Maybe we should go to your place."

  He looked into her lambent blue eyes, wanting to carry her off to his bed so damn bad that his body literally ached. But then she'd see the makeup that he'd left strewn on his kitchen table. Along with a thousand other clues that might lead her to the inevitable conclusion that he was Philomena.

  But that wasn't the only reason. Sam pulled away from her, disgust at himself washing over him. Hell. He couldn't do this. He couldn't make love to Lauren at the same time he was deceiving her. Not if he ever wanted to look at himself in the mirror again.

  "What's wrong?"

  He pulled away from her, sitting up on the sofa and burying his face in his hands. He had to think of a way out of this mess. A way that wouldn't hurt Lauren. But he needed time to come up with just the right words.

  "Sam?"

  He resisted the urge to hold her one last time. "I should go. I never meant for this to happen…"

  She leaned toward him and gave him a kiss to stop his apology. "I know. Will I see you tomorrow night?"

  He gave a jerky nod. The solution came to him in that moment. A desperate answer to his problem, but Sam didn't see any other option. And he knew it would work.

  By tomorrow night, she'd never want to see him again.

  * * *

  12


  « ^ »

  Sam walked into the kitchen the next morning to find Lauren singing to herself and flipping pancakes. It had taken him longer than usual to transform himself into his Philomena persona, thanks to a pounding headache and a wig that refused to cooperate.

  After leaving Lauren's apartment last night, he'd sprinted up the fire escape and climbed in the bedroom window just in time to hear her knocking on Philomena's door. He'd shut off the radio, then assured her in his Philomena voice that she was just fine.

  But that was just one more lie.

  Sam had to end this today. Before he hurt her. Before he forgot all the reasons he couldn't let himself fall in love with Lauren.

  "Good morning, sleepyhead," Lauren chimed when she saw Philomena walk into the kitchen. "Hope you're hungry."

  "Actually, I have a bit of headache this morning. I think I'll just have coffee."

  Lauren's brow furrowed as she walked over to her and placed her smooth hand on his forehead. "Do you feel sick?"

  "No," he said, drawing away from her touch. "I'm fine."

  "Sit down," she ordered," I'll get you a cup."

  Five minutes later, they were both seated at the table. Sam cradled a warm mug of coffee in his hands, watching Lauren consume the towering stack of whole-wheat pancakes in front of her.

  "You must be hungry this morning," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

  "I always eat when I'm nervous … or happy."

  "Which is it today?"

  She grinned. "Definitely happy. I have another date with Sam tonight."

  His stomach clenched. "Really."

  She smiled. "He's so wonderful, Philomena. Handsome. Smart. Warm. Funny."

  Sam stared into his coffee mug, knowing what he had to do. And dreading it at the same time. In a few moments, he'd see the light fade from her eyes. See her beautiful smile turn to a frown.