The Loving Daylights

by Lynsay Sands

  "I had Abel find a curling iron and a hair dryer while you were sleeping," Gran spoke up. "Fortunately, Beatrice Goodinov had both, plus some heavy-duty hair spray. Abel put it all in the dining room with what makeup we could find. Come on out and I'll fix you up."

  Jane followed obediently to the dining room. She seated herself on a small one-step stool they found in the kitchen so that she would be at the right height for Gran to work on her, then sat patiently as Maggie Spyrus fussed over her hair.

  It seemed to take forever--not to mention an awful lot of hair spray--before Gran decided her hair was finished. She then set to work on Jane's face. She'd been working on that for several minutes before Jane recognized the compact she was using.

  "That's the knockout powder!" she said with alarm.

  "Yes, but I'm using the compressed stuff," Gran assured her. The compact had two levels. It opened naturally to a section with a powder puff and real compressed face powder, then had the secret compartment with the lose knockout dust.

  Jane relaxed a little until her grandmother picked up some lipstick. Her eyes widened in horror. "That's Lipschitz's knockout lipstick!"

  "Is it?" Gran paused and pursed her lips. "Is it safe to wear?"

  "There's a clear base coat in the other end. You put that on first. I guess it acts as a barrier or an antidote."

  "Good. It's the perfect color." Gran handed the stick and a small mirror to Jane.

  "Can't I just wear my own?"

  "Yours is dull, Janie, dear. This is hot. Evey man's wet dream. Put it on."

  Grumbling under her breath, Jane did as she was told.

  "Tuck it into your bra," Gran said when Jane had finished applying both layers of the lipstick and started to return it to the makeup pile.

  "What?" Jane asked with bewilderment.

  "Tuck it into your bra, dear. You might need to reapply it later, and I know you won't take a purse." She waited until Jane had reluctantly done so, then set to work on her eyes, applying a light layer of eye shadow and eyeliner that Jane recognized with relief was Gran's own. But when the older woman picked up a silver bottle of perfume next, Jane pulled back. "That's my truth serum perfume!"

  "Yes, I know. It may come in handy tonight. Don't you think?"

  Jane nodded after a moment. "Yes. If Dirk gets close enough to inhale it."

  "You'll just have to make sure he gets close enough." Her grandmother poured some scent out onto a cotton ball and dabbed liberal amounts of it around Jane's ears, neck, and wrists. Jane grimaced as some was dabbed in the hollow between her breasts.

  "Try to get him close enough to inhale the perfume, but don't let him kiss you. We may have trouble explaining how a kiss could knock him out."

  "As if anyone would want to kiss me," Jane muttered.

  Gran paused in putting the makeup away and arched an eyebrow. "Janie, dear, I think you'd best go take a look in the mirror. I have no doubt he'll want to kiss you."

  Jane stood and made her way back to the bathroom. She nearly fainted when she saw her reflection. Dear Lord, it was a miracle! She was gorgeous. Sexy. Hot.

  "I look...good," she said faintly as Gran rolled up.

  "You look better than good, darling. You look like a Spyrus." The woman considered Jane with pursed lips then said. "Now we just have to work on your posture and walk."

  "What's wrong with my posture?" Jane asked.

  "Nothing--if you're a bookworm techno-geek trying to hide a pair of magnificent breasts by hunching your shoulders and trying to disappear into them."

  "Don't hold anything back, Gran," Jane retorted wryly.

  "And as for your walk, you don't really walk--you scamper like a mouse trying to avoid detection."

  Jane heaved a sigh, knowing her gran's descriptions were apt. She did often try to avoid detection. She would be happy to always blend into the woodwork. And yes, she did walk around with her shoulders hunched in an effort to make her breasts smaller. Which was ridiculous, of course. Nothing would make them smaller short of a reduction, which she had seriously considered on several occasions. She simply hadn't found the courage to go through with it yet.

  "Stand up straight," Gran ordered. "Shoulders back, chest out."

  Jane hesitated, then straightened her back and thrust her chest forward...only to immediately slump back to her usual posture. She wasn't ready for this.

  "Shoulders back and chest out," Gran repeated firmly.

  Jane straightened again, grimacing. Why couldn't she have had a delicate little body with perky breasts instead of this rounded, too voluptuous carcass? She pondered, watching her back bend and her shoulders slump in the mirror.

  "Jane, stop trying to hide what God gave you! The only one you're fooling is yourself," Maggie Spyrus snapped. "Now straighten up, stick that chest out, and sashay--do not scamper--across the floor. I want to see swaying hips."

  "Gran!" Jane flushed. "I can't--"

  "You need shoes," Gran interrupted. "I'm sure Abel put them in here with the dress."

  Spotting them by the door, Jane moved to pick them up. Her eyes widened with disbelief as she looked them over. She always wore flat shoes. Always. These were not flat. They were high-heeled, strappy black sandals. She would surely kill herself.

  "No. I can't." Jane shook her head.

  "Maybe Jane Spyrus can't," Gran said grimly. "But Jane Goodinov can...for Edie."

  Jane met her grandmother's gaze and felt her spine stiffen. She could do this for Edie. She'd just think of it as playacting. If she thought of herself as someone else, Jane Goodinov, maybe, just maybe she could pull it off.

  Determination coursing through her, she slipped the sandals on then straightened, forcing herself to stand straight, chest out.

  "Good." Gran nodded in approval. "Now, show me some sashay, Jane Goodinov."

  Jane spun away on the toe of one foot and did her damnedest to sashay across the large bathroom, remembering to keep her back straight and chest out.

  "That's it!" Gran crowed. "Look at yourself. You're beautiful. You're sexy. You're brilliant. You're all those things. They're your heritage. You should be a field operative. You have been hiding out as a techno-geek, but this is the real you!"

  Jane could feel confidence pouring into her. She could feel it swelling within her.

  "You can do this."

  "I can do this," Jane echoed.

  "You are doing it."

  "I am doing it," Jane agreed with surprise.

  "A little more sway," Gran instructed. Jane forced her hips to obey.

  "Now I want you to relax," Gran said as Jane reached the far end of the room and turned back. "You're a little stiff. Think of a slinky. Slink back across the room," she instructed. "Better yet, think ooze. You are a collection of sensual lotion, oozing sex appeal."

  "Which is it?" Jane asked with exasperation.

  "Slinky or oozing?"

  "Both!" Gran said firmly, so Jane did her best to move as she thought an oozing slinky would.

  "You're thinking too hard. Don't work at it. Let it happen."

  "Easy for you to say," Jane muttered. She turned away and started back across the room. Oozing slinkies, she thought. Oozing slinkies. Oozing--She paused to kick aside the towel she'd used after her shower and the sight of it made her think of Abel. She had a sudden sharp image in her mind of him standing in the motel room, naked but for a small linen around his waist. He'd looked really good in that. Really good. She'd wanted to run her hands all over his naked chest and--

  "That's it!" Gran cackled, clapping her hands.

  Jane swung back in surprise.

  "That was perfect. You have it now," Gran told her.

  "Great!" Jane said with exasperation. "I wasn't even thinking oozing slinky."

  "Well, whatever it was, think of it all night long. It was perfect." Gran rolled over to her. "Now, you have to try to get close to Dirk tonight. Find out what you can. If you can finagle an invitation to his house out of him, even better."

  "B
ut--"

  "Agents take advantage of every opportunity," Gran lectured firmly. "Take advantage. Exploit your figure and flash a come-hither smile. You've got it; use it. Use everything you've got."

  "But what if I mess up?" Jane asked, uncertainty eating her.

  "You won't," Gran answered. "But if something goes wrong, I'll be there to back you up."

  Jane considered and nodded reluctantly. She could do this. For Edie.

  "You're ready," Gran decided. "Now I have to get ready."

  Jane helped her change her clothes; then Gran shooed her from the room and took over fixing her own hair and makeup. Jane stepped out into the hall, considered its long length, and decided to practice being an oozing slinky. Lifting her chin, she straightened her posture, thrust out her chest, and followed her breasts down the hall, a picture of Abel in his towel firmly in mind. Then she recalled Abel without the towel, then Abel with the cat over himself, then Abel with the cat up, then Abel with the cat down. It brought a wicked smile to her lips as she entered the kitchen.

  "Dear God, I almost didn't believe it."

  Jane stopped dead and glanced at Abel. The real Abel. Fully dressed in a suit and tie, looking almost as sexy as he had in just his towel, he stood by the French doors in the dining room. Apparently he'd been enjoying the view.

  "Um..." Jane started to return to her usual posture, then caught herself and straightened. She asked, "You almost didn't believe what?"

  "That you really are a spy," he admitted, moving around the half counter that separated them. "You seemed too sweet, too nice. Even a little inept. But..." He paused to let his eyes trail down over her and Jane could feel them caress her body. "Just now, when you walked into the kitchen and didn't know I was looking--I definitely see that you can do it."

  Jane felt herself smile, but before she could say anything Gran rolled into the kitchen. "Are we all ready to go?" she asked.

  "Yes." Abel took control of Gran's wheelchair and steered her to the elevator.

  The trio rode down in silence, passed through the garage, and started up the driveway. Abel was still pushing Gran, which had seemed nice to Jane at first, but she now wondered if she might not do better to push her herself. It would give her something to hold. She really wasn't used to high heels and felt a bit shaky.

  "You know, it occurs to me that we may have a problem," Gran said suddenly.

  Jane and Abel exchanged a glance, then peered down at her.

  "What?" Abel asked.

  "Your name."

  "Oh." Jane clucked her tongue impatiently. She really hadn't thought of it.

  "What's wrong with my name?" Abel asked.

  "It's not very common," Jane pointed out. "I think Gran's worried that Edie may have mentioned you."

  "Yes." Gran made a clucking sound, too. "I should have thought of it sooner."

  "I can just go by my middle name," Abel suggested.

  "What is that?" Jane asked.

  "Nathaniel."

  "Nathaniel," Jane repeated. "Nathan. Nat. Nat Goodinov." She chuckled.

  "It's too late for that," Gran pointed out. "We introduced you to Leigh as Abel."

  "Hm," Jane murmured. They all fell silent as they crested the drive and started onto the road. Then she said, "I guess we'll just have to hope Edie hasn't mentioned her brother. Or that they don't think anything of your having the same name," she added. Edie probably had mentioned him, since she'd taken a day off to pick him up from the airport.

  "And that they'll overlook the fact that you look a lot like Edie," Gran added.

  Abel did look a lot like Edie. He was a male version of her. Alarm coursing through her, Jane stopped. "Maybe you should stay home."

  "That might be a good idea," Gran agreed.

  Abel drew himself up, obviously ready to do battle over the issue, but the sound of footsteps on the road behind them made them all glance back. A couple stepped off the driveway where the Ensecksis lived and started toward them.

  "Too late," Abel announced with satisfaction. He began to push Gran forward again. "We'll just have to hope for the best."

  Jane reluctantly followed. She remained silent as they started up Leigh Senchall's driveway.

  She, Maggie, and Abel all paused uncertainly when they came to a set of stairs almost as intrepid as the ones leading up to their own front door. Jane had never considered the possibility of Leigh Senchall's having stairs. Her gaze went to Gran's wheelchair in dismay.

  "I can carry Maggie," Abel said at last. "Can you bring the wheelchair, or is it too heavy? Maybe you should just leave it and I can come back."

  "No. I think I can manage," Jane said quickly. After all, she was forever moving it to the back of the van and stowing it.

  Nodding, Abel scooped Gran's slender body out of her chair, then started up the stairs. Jane watched them for a couple of steps, but when Edie's brother didn't falter and seemed fine, she turned her attention back to the chair. She was terribly aware of the approaching couple as she picked it up. These people were all quite possibly evil villains bent on world domination. At the very least they were kidnappers. In other words, they were the bad guys.

  That thought running around and around in her mind, Jane started up the stairs with the wheelchair. It only proved that she was not the most coordinated of people. She wasn't holding the wheelchair high enough. It caught on the lip of a step, pulled her off balance, and sent her tumbling backward.

  Chapter Eleven

  "Whoa!" A pair of warm strong hands caught her upper arms, preventing Jane from breaking her neck at the base of Leigh Senchall's stairway.

  Jane--who'd been sure she was about to die--felt her heart start up again, sending blood thundering into her head. She sagged briefly against her savior's chest, overcome with relief that she would live to get herself killed another day.

  "A pretty little girl like you shouldn't be trying to cart around that wheelchair." The voice was as smooth as silk, and Jane felt a shudder run through her as a puff of warm breath caressed her ear. She tilted and turned her head to see the speaker...and felt her stomach drop right down into her toes. The man holding her was quite the most beautiful creature she'd ever laid eyes on. He had dark hair, dark eyes, long lashes, a straight European nose, high cheekbones, and full luscious lips that were lowering toward hers.

  "Oh, let the poor girl go. She's hardly in your league, Dirk."

  Jane stiffened at that caustic comment and forced herself to find her feet. Poor girl? Hardly in his league? Her mouth flattened grimly as she straightened away from her rescuer. They'd just see about that!

  Oozing slinky, oozing slinky, she thought quickly as she set her gran's wheelchair on the steps. She brought up the picture of a towelless, catless Abel in her mind and held the wheelchair in place with one hand, then turned with what she hoped was a smoldering look on her face. "Dirk? You must be Dirk Ensecksi."

  "So women tell me," he murmured with a wicked grin. Jane caught her breath. To distract herself, she turned her gaze to the woman with Dirk. Shorter. Slender. A beautiful ice maiden with blond hair and blue eyes.

  Contacts and a dye job, Jane decided cattily. She'd have to keep an eye on Abel. This woman screamed maneater. "Which would make you Lydia."

  Jane didn't bother to hide her lack of enthusiasm, but oddly enough her antipathy brought a smile from the woman.

  "Yes." She reached out. "I didn't mean to ruffle your feathers with that crack. I hadn't got a good look at you yet. Lydia Ensecksi."

  "Jane Goodinov," Jane responded, taking the offered hand. She wasn't surprised to find it cold and hard.

  "We'll see," Lydia said with amusement, obviously playing on her name. Before Jane could respond she added, "You must be the Goodinovs' niece, here to baby-sit the house."

  "News travels fast," Jane said.

  "Trixie told me this afternoon."

  "Trixie the Grapevine," Jane quipped.

  "In more ways than one," Lydia agreed with a sharp laugh. Then the woman added,
"I think we'll be friends, Jane Goodinov."

  Lord save me, Jane thought.

  Dirk moved to place his hand over hers on the wheelchair. "Can I take this for you?"

  A frisson of awareness shot up her arm and Jane--who had loads of experience with men who didn't attract her, but very little with men who did--felt her mind turn to mush. She smiled at him stupidly, then realized what she was doing. She stopped. Hoping her mind would glue itself back together if she just gave it some distance, Jane shifted the wheelchair between them and nearly knocked him off the stairs. Lydia and she both grabbed his arms at the same time to save him.

  "You'd better give me that," Dirk said with a laugh as he regained his balance. "You're obviously dangerous with wheelchairs."

  Oozing slinky, oozing slinky. Naked Abel. Jane let her lips curve the slightest bit and responded with a husky, "I'm dangerous with a lot of things."

  It was a bad line; she knew even before the perplexed expression covered Dirk's face. Apparently the oozing-slinky, naked-Abel thing didn't always work. Sighing inwardly, Jane gave Ensecksi the wheelchair and a wink, then turned to sashay up the stairs.

  She didn't look back to see if the Ensecksis followed. Jane was too busy berating herself. How could she be attracted to a criminal mastermind? How could she have done something as stupid as trip herself up on the stairs, then nearly knock Dirk off them? And what was that crack about Trixie the Grapevine? It had been cruel. She wasn't a cruel person.

  "Oh, Jane!"

  She gave up her self-flagellation and glanced up at the sound of that apologetic voice. Leigh Senchall was standing in her open front door wearing another lovely creamy yellow dress and looking as if she'd been berating herself as well.

  "I'm so sorry," the woman groaned. She looked mortified. "I never even thought of the stairs when I invited you over."

  A true smile curved Jane's lips, and she laughed slightly. "Well, better stairs than not being invited at all."

  "Oh, yes! But...Well, I could have arranged something to make it easier than Abel's having to carry your grandmother up and you having to cart the wheelchair." She paused. "Where is the wheelchair? Abel said you were bringing it."

  "Right here."