The Loving Daylights

by Lynsay Sands

  Jane left one on the coffee table and carried the other to her grandmother's room. Maggie Spyrus was sound asleep with Tinkle curled against her side. Jane set the radio by the bedside and turned it on. Gran would know instantly what it was for when she woke up.

  Feeling better, Jane started to back out of the room, only to pause when Gran murmured her name.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," Jane whispered. "I was just putting a two-way radio on your table so that you could reach me if you need to. I have to watch the Ensecksis."

  "All right, dear."

  Smiling at the soft words, Jane left and headed back to the master bedroom. She made a quick detour to the kitchen for some instant coffee to help her stay awake.

  Settling on the couch again, Jane checked the four camera broadcasts to see that they hadn't changed. She doubted they would tonight. Surely even bad guys had to sleep. Still, she had to watch. Or thought she had to. She'd never done this before. But Gran hadn't said she needn't bother, so...The thought of Gran made her turn on the two-way radio on the coffee table. Then she sat back on the couch and stared at the unchanging Ensecksi house. Mr. Tibbs crawled out from under the bed and moved to join her. He settled up against her side, pawed at her hand a couple of times until she petted him, then closed his eyes and went to sleep.

  Jane glanced from the cat to where Abel sprawled on the bed.

  It was going to be a long night.

  ------

  Abel opened his eyes with a groan. Bright sunlight was pouring in through the window and into his face. Ugh. Leave it to California to have sunny days in November, he thought with disgust. Sitting up on the bed, brought about another groan.

  His head felt as if it were imploding. Nasty. He tried not to move it too much as he shifted to sit on the side of the bed. He was in the master bedroom and still wearing the dark clothes he'd donned to help Jane last night. Not a good sign. Had he conked out on her? It was all rather fuzzy.

  He got carefully to his feet, his eyes going to the screen door. The sight of yellow tape caught his eye. Police tape. It was wrapped around the entire little wooded area on the hill. What the hell had happened last night?

  Opening the door, he stepped outside for a closer look. A bright splash of color on the ground by the table and chairs drew him forward. He recognized the comforter from the bed when he reached it. The sight of the bloodstains on it caused him some alarm, and Abel reached instinctively to feel his head. A good whack on the head would explain his headache and fuzzy memory this morning, but his skull appeared to be intact. There were no lumps or abrasions he could find.

  He peered around again with bewilderment but, other than the police tape, there was nothing to hint at what had occurred. He turned to his own memories in the hopes of solving the mystery, but they were useless. He had a vague recollection of setting up cameras and microphones, then a rather fuzzy image of talking with Jane on the hill. He thought he might have kissed her, but couldn't be sure, and he didn't at all recall how he'd got inside on that bed.

  Bewildered, he returned to the bedroom, pausing when he noticed Jane sound asleep on the couch. Mr. Tibbs was cuddled close. He moved toward her, ready to wake her up and find out what had gone on last night, but then he took a good look at her face. There were exhausted bruises under her eyes and she was pale with fatigue. No doubt she'd stayed up all night, staring at the images being transmitted from their surveillance equipment. She'd probably fallen asleep only a little while ago.

  He would let her sleep, he decided, his gaze drifting over the faint freckles on her nose. An odd warmth welled up in him and he found himself smiling despite his aching head. He liked this girl. She was smart and funny and sexy as hell. She was also a good kisser, if the vague memory he had was true. There had definitely been some zing when their lips met.

  He brushed an auburn curl back from her cheek as he recalled some of the things Edie had told him about her over the last six months. His sister had managed to sneak at least one story of this woman into every phone call they'd had, and every e-mail he'd received from her. And with each one, a picture of Jane had grown until she'd become a faceless woman who was helpful, funny, and fiercely loyal. The reality was even more compelling.

  Abel suspected he'd seen Jane at her worst the last couple of days. First she'd been suspicious, then panicked, then worried and exhausted. All of it had surely made her true personality shine through sooner than it would have under normal circumstances. Some women would have been short and snappy; others would have burst into helpless tears. Jane had taken each new problem with equanimity, doing what had to be done with as little fuss as possible.

  Actually, he realized, she'd comported herself better than he had with his alternate panic and frustration at Edie's disappearance. Everything had been so rushed: Edie's going missing, the trip here. He remembered the few times they'd managed to forget their worries about Edie and have conversations in the van. Between those and what Edie had said about her, he already knew that they had a lot in common. Maybe--

  No, he thought. There was no maybe here. Perhaps if she really was plain Jane Spyrus, toy designer and neighbor to his sister, there would be a maybe. But she wasn't. She was an undercover agent. A spy with an exciting life and a dangerous career. Which was just Abel's luck. He'd spent the last several years concentrating on his career. Now that was going well and he was ready to settle down and pay some attention to his personal life, who did he find himself attracted to? Someone he was sure wouldn't look at a boring accountant twice.

  Abel almost wished that Edie hadn't told him all her stories. He definitely wished she hadn't been kidnapped. He turned to glance across the room to the screen door. Abel couldn't see the Ensecksi house from where he stood, but he didn't have to. Edie was in there somewhere, maybe hurt and frightened, or maybe under some form of mind control and completely oblivious.

  He hated the waiting and not knowing, and he wished he had a crystal ball. Edie was...well, she was his little sister. He'd always been protective of her, always done what he could to keep her safe and out of trouble. Abel had failed her somehow by not being there to prevent the kidnapping. He knew that was illogical but his heart didn't, and he determined there and then that he was moving to Vancouver whether he got the transfer or not. Family was too important to live far away from. Funny how losing them made it so clear.

  Edie would be happy with his decision, he knew. She'd probably push forward with her campaign to get him and Jane together. His gaze went back to the woman on the couch. Jane would be another benefit to moving to Vancouver. He could have a relationship with her, maybe see if they couldn't...

  His thoughts halted as he realized he was doing it again. It was fine and dandy that he wanted a relationship with her, but that didn't mean she'd want one with him. Edie thought she would and that they'd be perfect together, but then Edie didn't know Jane was a spy.

  His thoughts along that line died abruptly as another intruded: the police tape. He wasn't hurt. Jane didn't appear to be either, but Edie...Had she somehow escaped her kidnappers and run to the nearest house for help? Had the Ensecksis given chase and--

  Despite his earlier intentions to let her sleep, Abel found himself moving Mr. Tibbs to the floor and taking the cat's place on the edge of the couch next to Jane. He nudged her urgently, but her only response was a snuffle. She was half on her side and half on her stomach, her forehead resting on her hand and her nose squished against her wrist. She looked adorable. And he hated to wake her, but he needed to know what had happened.

  "Jane?"

  "Hmm?" She rolled back and blinked sleepily. "Oh, Abel. I was dreaming about you."

  That distracted him briefly. She was dreaming about him? "What were you dreaming?"

  "You were naked, and I didn't need to think oozing slinky to feel sexy."

  Her words disconcerted him. They also didn't make a whole lot of sense. "Er, Jane? What's an oozing slinky? And why would it make you feel sexy?"


  "It's what Gran told me to think of so Dirk would be interested," she explained sleepily. "But I found thinking of you towelless and catless in the Sonora Sunset Motel worked better."

  "Oh." Abel grimaced. That hadn't been one of his best moments. He cleared his throat and got his thoughts back on track. "Jane, what happened last night?"

  "You kissed me and I really, really liked it."

  "You did?" He was distracted again and cursed his hormones for their power over him.

  "Oh, yes. Until you passed out. Then I was sad." She sighed and stretched a little, nearly knocking him off the bit of couch he'd claimed beside her.

  "I passed out?" he asked, managing to keep his seat despite the fact that his attention had shifted to the way her breasts rose as she arched her back. The hem of her black pajama top also rose, revealing a swath of pale flesh. Abel licked his lips.

  "Yes," she answered, then added in grumpy tones, "Stupid knockout lipstick."

  "Knockout lipstick?" Abel tore his eyes from her naked flesh as those words sank in. "What knockout lipstick?"

  "Lipschitz's knockout lipstick," she grunted, as if that should explain everything. Then she raised one hand, moving it clumsily to rest on his arm so that she could fiddle with the cloth of his shirt. Abel forced himself to ignore the distraction of her touch.

  "Okay," he said slowly. "You were wearing this lipstick last night. Right?"

  "Yes. I forgot about it when you kissed me," she confessed. "I'm not a very good agent. A good agent would have remembered and not been overwhelmed by your sex appeal."

  Abel straightened with pleasure. "I have sex appeal?" he asked.

  "Oh, yes," she said solemnly.

  Abel enjoyed that for a minute; then another thought struck him. "Were you wearing the knockout lipstick when Dirk kissed you? Why wasn't he knocked out?"

  "Because I'd wiped most of it off to eat, and he got just enough that it combined with the B.L.I.S.S. TSP to make him a stupid, sloppy and grabby pig."

  "B.L.I.S.S. TSP?" Abel asked, refusing to think of the way Dirk had been grabbing Jane when he'd found them together. He'd wanted to pop the guy. Pop, goes the weasel, as a friend of his used to say.

  "Truth-serum perfume."

  "Truth-serum perfume?" He stiffened as he suddenly had a clear recollection of sniffing her neck last night on the hill. It came with a much vaguer memory of saying--His eyes turned to her sharply. "How long does this B.L.I.S.S. TSP work?"

  "About an hour or so. It depends on how much is inhaled," Jane said.

  "An hour?" He puzzled over that. "Then I didn't get any. You put it on before we went to the party, and I didn't smell your neck until--"

  "Oh. I thought you meant how long does it affect the smeller. That's an hour. It has a life of about twenty hours on the wearer unless he washes it off. "

  "Twenty hours?" he echoed in shock.

  "Certainly. I had to make it long-lasting. What if it took the agent a while to get the target to sniff her?" she asked reasonably.

  "Twenty hours," Abel repeated. It was still working, he realized, and peered at her curiously. She herself seemed to be telling the truth rather easily. There was no sign of discomfort or hesitation. And if he wasn't mistaken, her pupils were a tad dilated. "Does it affect the wearer?"

  "Not through skin contact. It has to be inhaled."

  Aha! She'd been sleeping with her nose pressed to her wrist, inhaling her own TSP for who knew how long? He could ask her anything he wanted, and she'd tell the truth. He felt a moment's guilt at what he was thinking, but it passed quickly. After all, she'd got the truth from him last night. Turnabout was fair play. But first he needed to know what had happened last night. He had to assure himself that Edie wasn't lying hurt in the hospital or dead in a morgue. "Why is there police tape and a bloody comforter outside?"

  Jane explained the events of the previous night, answering every question easily, and Abel found himself relaxing. It hadn't been Edie. She still wasn't safe at his side, but at least she wasn't dead or terribly injured...that he knew of.

  Abel glanced back to Jane. She was watching him and grinning widely. "What are you smiling at?"

  "You have the nicest eyes. I like looking at them."

  "You do, do you?" Abel grinned, too. "What about Dirk? You don't think he has nicer eyes?"

  "Yes."

  Abel winced, deflating under her candor. But he'd asked for it, he thought with a sigh.

  "Dirk is perfect looking. Very handsome." She continued to turn the screws. "But he's a stupid and selfish jerk."

  That gave Abel some hope, and he stayed silent as she continued. "You're very handsome. Not as beautiful as Dirk, but still handsome. You're also nicer than him. And you're smart, too, and I wish you'd kiss me."

  Abel groaned. He wanted to. He really did, but he suspected the TSP lowered all inhibitions, allowing its victim to tell the truth and maybe do things they normally wouldn't. He'd feel like he was taking advantage. It was like bedding a woman who'd had too much to drink, and Abel had never done that.

  "I'd like to, Jane, but--"

  "You don't want me." She gave a forlorn sigh, her lower lip popping out in a cute sulk that made him want to catch it between his teeth and tug. While Abel was trying to restrain himself Jane added, "I'm a failure as a woman and a failure as an agent." Before he could refute either and say something encouraging, she got a confused look on her face. "Well, I'm not really an agent. Or am I now?"

  Her honesty was confusing her. It was confusing him, too. "What do you mean you're not really an agent?"

  "I work in development and creation. I'm not a spy. But Y made me a spy because I was here and there was no one else here to do it."

  Abel stiffened at this news. "And Maggie?"

  "Gran?" Jane shrugged. "She use to be a field Operative--until she was paralyzed."

  "Then why the hell did you agree to do it?" Abel asked, outrage bubbling up within him. They were three amateurs stumbling around trying to save his sister's life!

  "Because Edie needed me, and I love her like a sister," Jane said simply.

  His gaze softened. "You'd do a lot for those you love, wouldn't you?"

  "I'd die for those I love," she agreed solemnly. "But I'd rather not."

  Abel felt a quirky smile pull at his lips. "Jane Spyrus, you are something else. I think I'm falling in love with you."

  "Oh, that's so nice." She sighed. "I could love you too, Abel." They smiled at each other; then she asked, "Can we have sex now?"

  Abel felt laughter bubble up in his chest. She sounded so adorable. As if she were asking for ice cream. His laughter died, however, when she added, "I've never had an orgasm, and think I could with you."

  What? That was like issuing a challenge. She'd never had an orgasm? Dear God, he'd like to give her her first. And her second and...Down, boy, he remonstrated, catching her hand as it drifted over his chest. She wasn't herself. He couldn't take advantage of her. If she still wanted him later, he would--

  "I'd really like you to make me scream and beg like you said last night."

  Abel closed his eyes as her words brought an image to mind of her naked beneath him, head thrown back, muscles straining as she cried out for him. He blinked his eyes open, eliminating the image. It was too damned exciting. He was already half hard. More than half. Why did she have to be under the influence of...? A thought struck him and he asked, "Jane, if you weren't under the influence of truth serum, would you still want me to make love to you?"

  "Am I under the influence of truth serum?" she asked in surprise.

  "Yes. I'm afraid you are."

  "Oh." She nodded. "That explains why I feel kind of floaty."

  "Um, yes. But, Jane--if you weren't under the influence of the truth serum, would you still want me to make love to you right here and now?"

  "I think so. I wanted you last night and I wasn't under the influence then. Besides, the truth serum doesn't make you do things you don't want to do. It's designed to low--"


  That was enough to salve Abel's conscience. He silenced her by bending over and covering her mouth with his own. It was very handy catching her midword like that. He was able to deepen the kiss at once and slip his tongue inside her mouth.

  Abel had lived in various towns in Ontario and England, and hoped to live in Vancouver, but right there on that couch he was sure he'd found home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jane sighed as Abel kissed her. Yes, this was as good as she remembered from last night. The man could kiss, and she had the compulsive urge to tell him so, but couldn't with his tongue in her mouth. Besides, she reasoned a bit muzzily, if Abel was right and she was under the influence of her own truth serum, then that was what was causing the compulsion.

  She forgot about wanting to tell him anything. His hands slid to cover her breasts, closing over them through her black silk pyjama tops so that she shuddered and arched into his touch. Oh, this was nice. No groping or grabbing. This was what was meant by a caress. The heat of his hands bled through the cloth separating them, and he began to rub his thumbs back and forth over her nipples that pebbled and pressed against the silk.

  "Oh, that's so nice." She sighed as his lips left hers and traveled down her throat. Then she gasped and arched upward again when his hot mouth closed over one nipple. He nibbled through the suddenly damp cloth. "Abel?"

  "Hmm?" He lifted his head.

  "I like that, but I think I'd like it even better if you were to do that without my top on."

  A slow smile spread across his lips. "I think you're brilliant," he announced. He began to work on the buttons. "And I definitely think your truth serum is going to make this an incredible experience."

  "It is?" Jane asked curiously.

  "Oh, yes. It is. Especially if it makes you tell me exactly what you want." He finished with the buttons and spread the cloth apart to peer down at the naked flesh he'd revealed, he added, "And there won't be any faking it." He raised his head and asked, "What do you want, Jane?"