Trading Places

Without a word, Alice stripped off her jeans and T-shirt. Beneath them she wore a thong—which was driving her crazy—and a demibra of lace and satin, artfully constructed to make the most of her assets. The underwear was new, selected and purchased by Sharlayne.

“You can wear my clothes and my shoes,” she’d said. “You can even wear my jewels. But no way will anybody wear my undies. Since you have a penchant for cotton underwear and no one on the planet would believe Sharlayne Kenyon would wear such a thing—”

“But no one will see my underwear,” Alice had protested. “What difference does it make?”

“Plenty,” Sharlayne snapped. “You’ll know and you won’t feel like me in cotton underpants—trust me. Besides, what if you got hit by a car? Then everybody at the hospital would see. It would ruin my reputation.”

“I’m not going to get hit by a car.”

Sharlayne had got that sneaky gleam in her eyes. “There are other occasions to show one’s underwear. You could have a mad passionate affair with your bodyguard.”

“I had a mad passionate affair with one of your gardeners. Remember that? It didn’t work out so well. I won’t be trying that again any time soon.”

“José was cute,” Sharlayne said, “but the language thing was a problem. I’m still not sure if he was kissing you off or inviting you to go back to Mexico with him.”

“Whatever. I was sorry I ever got involved.” Alice stepped into white jeans and hauled them up over her hips. She had to take a deep breath to get them snapped, then to pull up the zip.

She’d never worn anything so tight in her life. “Good grief,” she gasped. “How do you move in these?”

“They’re denim. They stretch.”

“I hope.” Alice tugged the black T-shirt over her head. Short and just as tight as the jeans, it reached only to a couple of inches above the waistband, baring her navel.

She stared in the mirror at her exposed bellybutton. “You’re kidding,” she said faintly.

“You know better. You’ve seen me practically every day for two years. You’ve seen me wear that, as a matter of fact.”

“Yes, but…I don’t know.” Alice shook her newly blond head.

“Good,” Sharlayne said approvingly. “That petulant look is dead-on. Hurry up, put on the shoes. Your bodyguard should be arriving any minute and you’ll have to greet him.”

Alice’s stomach clenched into a knot of terror. “Sharlayne, I don’t know—”

“The hell you don’t! Put on those shoes!” Sharlayne pointed with a stiff finger. “Then put on that ruby tennis bracelet and the diamond earrings I laid out for you.” The roar of an automobile engine interrupted and she frowned. “What the…?”

Alice, closer to the second-story windows, walked over to peer out. “It’s an old pickup truck,” she reported.

“Probably a delivery,” Sharlayne grumbled, coming to check for herself. “Tabitha must have authorized it.”

The driver’s door opened and a man stepped out. And what a man: slim hips and shoulders to die for. When he looked up unexpectedly, both women leaped back as if caught doing something they should be ashamed of.

They faced each other, wide-eyed.

Sharlayne said, “The bodyguard. Got to be.”

“Do you think so?” Alice whispered, wondering how she got so lucky.

“I’m sure of it.” Sharlayne grinned. “Maybe I should hang around and send you off to finish my book.”

“Maybe you should,” Alice agreed, wondering if what she felt beneath her feet was really quicksand.

“Go on, Alice,” Sharlayne scoffed. “I mean, Sharlayne. That guy’s a real hunk and his only interest in the next several weeks will be guarding your body. Let him earn his money. Remember, you’re me, so don’t pull any of that fainting-virgin stuff. I’m not suggesting you do anything you really don’t want to, but in public ask yourself, ‘What would Sharlayne do?”’ She turned toward the door with a wink. “Then don’t do anything I wouldn’t, okay?”

Alice groaned. That certainly left a lot of leeway.

A FIFTYISH WOMAN with the charm of a goatherd let Jed into the old villa. He automatically catalogued what he’d seen so far: a tall brick fence, an enormous and elaborate wrought-iron gate at the street entrance to the property, a long curving drive leading up to the white-walled, red-tile-roofed mansion nestled among palms and flowering shrubbery.

All very substantial and prosperous. A nice place to visit, but he wouldn’t want to live here.

The woman, a stereotypical old-maid school-teacher if he’d ever seen one, offered her hand. “I am Tabitha Thomas,” she said in a chilly tone. “I am Ms. Kenyon’s personal assistant.”

“Jed Kelby.” He took her hand in a firm but brief grip. “S. J. Spade Insurance Agency.”

“The bodyguard.”

He grimaced. The agency preferred insurance agent or security expert or even personal security consultant. Nevertheless, he said, “Yes, ma’am.” He glanced around the majestic entryway, noting the antique tile, the Moorish shapes of windows and doors. “Is Ms. Kenyon available?”

“She’s—”

“Right here.”

The low timbre of the new voice sent shudders of anticipation down Jed’s spine. He was watching Tabitha and therefore caught the look of shock that touched her face before it was quickly gone. For a moment he couldn’t be sure of the identity of the newcomer, but then he turned, bracing for this first encounter with his employer.

He had no idea why until he saw her standing there—posing there, actually—in the arched doorway. Pictures of Sharlayne Kenyon didn’t do her justice, had not prepared him for the reality. Blond and beautiful and sleek and sexy would do for starters. She simply took his breath away, which annoyed the hell out of him.

This was business, damn it. He wouldn’t let her distract him from his duty.

He stepped forward, thrusting out his hand in a businesslike manner. “Ms. Kenyon? I’m Jed Kelby. The agency sent me.”

She batted those clear blue eyes. “Ms. Kenyon?” She duplicated his questioning tone. “Are you suggesting you’re not sure?”

Tabitha Thomas stirred. “Not to worry, Mr. Kelby,” she said with perfectly flat inflection. “She often has this effect on strangers.”

“Yeah, well…” Jed almost felt left out of the conversation, for some reason. “I’ve only seen pictures.”

A fast smile tilted Sharlayne’s lips. “I shouldn’t tease you,” she said. “I’m really quite relieved you’re here. Please, come into the living room, where we can talk.” She half turned. “Tabitha, could you send Juan to make drinks. It is almost cocktail hour.” She tossed Jed a mischievous glance.

“Not for me,” he said quickly. “I don’t drink on the job.”

“But you’re not on the job yet.” She gave him a pretty pout. “You don’t officially start until tomorrow.”

He simply shook his head: no.

“Wine, then.” Those soft lips set in a stubborn line. “Surely you can have a glass of wine. We—I’ve just put in a case of fabulous Kelby-Linus chardonnay—” She stopped short, her beautiful eyes widening. “But—are you connected to those Kelbys?”

This wasn’t going the way he expected. He didn’t want any personal relationship with this woman. Neither did he want to lie to her, so he simply said, “Yes.”

“Then that’s what we’ll have,” she said happily, clasping her hands with pleasure. A bejeweled bracelet encircled her wrist, and her nails were long and gracefully shaped. “If you please, Tabby?”

Tabitha’s mouth turned down at the corners, but she nodded and walked briskly away. There was nothing for Jed to do but follow Sharlayne wherever she might lead.

ALICE THOUGHT she might faint, she was so anxious about this first test of her false identity. Tabitha hadn’t helped, either. The woman had made no secret of her dislike for Alice, but to snipe in front of the bodyguard was completely uncalled for.

Then there was that bodyguard himself. If she’d sat down to outline her ideal man, she’d probably have come up with Jed Kelby.

In the first place, he was tall. She liked tall. Tall, dark and handsome, just like the stereotype. Great, athletic body; easy way of moving, erect posture that hinted of a military background.

If all that wasn’t enough, he had close-clipped black hair and clear hazel eyes that showed a changing pattern of green and gold. The guy was, quite simply, a knockout. And that body…

She picked up two glasses of wine and offered one to him. “Cheers,” she said, sipping.

“Cheers.” He barely sipped the wine before setting the glass on the huge carved wooden coffee table. Apparently, he really didn’t intend to drink on duty.

To hell with that. Alice needed all the courage she could get, however false. She took another swallow. “Did you have a nice drive?” she asked.

He nodded brusquely. “Why do you need a personal security specialist, Ms. Kenyon?”

She blinked in surprise. “Why…I don’t know. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

He frowned. “Are you in any kind of danger?”

“Not at all.” She got hold of herself then, and switched back to the official line. “That is, unless you call the press a danger. To be perfectly frank, I’ve become such a media target that sometimes I feel I’m in danger just appearing in public.” That much was true; she had no idea how Sharlayne stood the constant scrutiny and interference.

He shrugged, broad shoulders moving beneath navy-blue knit. “Guess it goes with the territory,” he said without so much as a trace of sympathy. “I understand you’ve only recently moved into this house.”

“That’s right. A few days ago, as a matter of fact.”

“Then the first order of business is for me to check out your security system.” He stood up abruptly. “If you’ll tell me where to stash my gear—”

“Wait a minute. Not so fast.” She frowned. “There’ll be plenty of time for that. Let’s talk about the rest of it.”

His dark brows rose. “What rest of it?”

“How we’re going to…relate to each other.”

“You lost me,” he said. “You’re my employer. I’m here to do the job you hired me for—protect you.”

“That’s all well and good, but I don’t want anyone to know I’ve hired a bodyguard. That would be like inviting every crackpot in town to take a shot at getting through my security.”

“Okay. Then we won’t tell anyone.”

“Exactly. But sooner or later someone will wonder who the handsome man living in my house might be.” She gave him her best come-hither look, which obviously wasn’t all that good, judging by his lack of response.

If he noticed the compliment, he failed to let on. “Okay, tell ’em I’m your cousin. I don’t care.”

“Really, Jed. Do you think anyone would believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Because I’m Sharlayne Kenyon, silly.” She drained her glass. “If someone asks, you’re my new boyfriend. Since I’m between close personal friends at the moment, they’ll believe that. Can we use your real name?”

“Sure. Why not? But I don’t think the boyfriend story will fly.”

“It’s the only story that will fly. With it we can spend every minute together and no one will think anything about it. You see? It’s the only way.”

“I see you think it’s the only way. I’m not so sure.”

She patted his strong jaw. “Lighten up, Jed. This will be a walk in the park for a man in your line of business. I wouldn’t want to think you’ll find it too difficult to pretend to have…feelings for me.”

“I never lighten up on the job,” he said. “Your safety is my only concern.”

Was that a challenge?

ALICE MADE IT all the way into Sharlayne’s master suite and collapsed on the chaise longue before succumbing to a bad case of shakes. “I’m dying!” she gasped. “That’s the scariest thing I ever did. I kept waiting for him to stand up and shout, ‘Imposter!’”

Sharlayne and Tabitha regarded her with varying degrees of sympathy: none from Tabitha and very little from Sharlayne.

“Brace up,” Sharlayne said. “He bought it, didn’t he?”

“Apparently, although he did give me a start or two.” Alice pulled herself together sufficiently to stare at her employer.

“My God.” She gaped. “Is that a wig?”

Sharlayne touched the nondescript brown head covering and frowned. Her face was free of makeup and she wore sensible shoes and a dress that actually fit like a dress, not a banana peel. “Awful, huh?”

“Not really. In fact, you look a lot like me.”

“I guess that’s the point.” Sharlayne turned her laser gaze on Tabitha. “What do you think? Did she do all right?”

Tabitha’s lip curled. “She barely got by. If she’d been trying to fool anyone who actually knew you—”

“That won’t happen,” Sharlayne cut in impatiently. “Now, both of you listen. Wilbert’s waiting for me at the service entrance. If you have any questions, this is the time to speak up.”

Alice asked quickly, “Where will you be?”

“That’s strictly top secret.”

“But what if I have to get in touch with you?” Alice felt a touch of panic at the prospect of being completely stranded and on her own.

“Tabitha will always know where to find me. She’ll also handle all the credit cards. Anything you want, up to but not including a mink coat, go to her.”

That didn’t sit well. Not that Alice had a hankering for a mink coat; she just didn’t have a hankering to go begging to Tabitha. “I don’t like it,” she said unhappily.

Tabitha said with malice aforethought, “Too bad. That’s the way we’ve worked it out.”

“Easy.” Sharlayne gave her senior assistant a warning glance. “Try to get along, will you? We want Alice to enjoy this experience, after all.”

“She’s already enjoying it too much.” Tabitha’s gaze was malevolent. “Flirting with that bodyguard—”

“Great!” Sharlayne looked delighted. “That’s exactly what I want her to do—act just like me.” She smiled at Alice. “Relax, honey. You did just fine or Tabitha wouldn’t be so annoyed.”

“This time,” Alice conceded. “But when I run into someone who already knows you—and I inevitably will—all the artful makeovers in the world…all the designer clothing and glittering jewels and fabulous surroundings…won’t get me through. I have to admit, I figured this could be fun—”

“Not to mention profitable.”

“That’s true.”

“Well, stop worrying about it,” Sharlayne said as if her mind had already turned around in another direction. “Do the best you can. Any time you can gain for me will help. I’m going to finish that book if it kills me.”

“Okay,” Alice said, “but this seems even crazier now that we’re into it.”

“Alice, listen to me.” Sharlayne leaned down to peer into eyes nearly identical to her own. “People see what they expect to see, not what’s actually there. If they expect to see Sharlayne Kenyon, they will.”

“But what if—”

“Alice, you’re whimpering.” Sharlayne straightened, her manner stern. “Let me remind you what’s at stake here—a brilliant tome detailing my brilliant life, and a debt-free future for you. Isn’t that worth a little stress and strain?”

“I suppose, but what if I’m found out? What if—”

“Hush and listen to me. You’re also getting a chance to live a fantasy most women would kill for. A mansion, a good-looking man at your beck and call, servants, a good-looking man, designer clothes, a good-looking man—”

“Okay, I catch your drift. A good-looking man.” Alice, who had never in her life been free of money worries or had any male, good-looking or otherwise, at her beck and call, was putty in Sharlayne’s hands. But one question still remained. “Why do I even need a bodyguard, good-looking or otherwise?”

“You don’t,” Sharlayne said calmly. “Let me explain this one more time. He’s just around to keep people away, so they won’t get wise to the switch.” She glanced around the bedroom, clearly impatient. “Now, I really have to get out of here. Last chance for questions.”

Her words reminded Alice of the part of the wedding ceremony where the minister asks if anyone present knows why this couple should not be joined together. This was definitely a now-or-never moment.

She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged.

Sharlayne said, “Good. In that case—ta-ta, ladies. Tabitha, keep me posted. Alice, enjoy yourself.” With a final conspiratorial wink, she was gone.

Alice turned to Tabitha, who was staring at the door through which her boss had disappeared. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “Nobody with a grain of sense or an eye in his head would ever accept you as Sharlayne Kenyon.”

“You better be wrong,” Alice said, “because if you’re right, we’re both up the proverbial creek without a paddle.”

This time, she didn’t flinch before Tabitha’s glare. She was, after all, Sharlayne Kenyon.

CHAPTER THREE

Nothing ventured, nothing gained; or,

my greatest creation is me

By the time I was twelve years old, I was five foot four and measured 25-22-23. I guess you could say I became something of an overnight sensation in Hog Jaw, Arkansas….

That Book About This Body,

Sharlayne Kenyon

TABITHA JOINED Alice and Jed for dinner at the big hand-carved Spanish table in the formal dining room. This might have thrown a lesser woman into a rage, but Alice was more grateful than anything else. As cute and sexy as this man was, better not to take chances, even in the guise of a wild-and-crazy adventuress.

A maid served the meal: an enormous salad, broiled chicken and assorted veggies. Dessert was an incredibly light lemon mousse. Watching Jed devour the food, she began to wonder if he would starve to death before this job was over.

Meals were planned with Sharlayne in mind: heavy on fruits and veggies, light on meat and carbs. But with Sharlayne out of the picture, Jed could use a little consideration.

At the conclusion of the meal, she leaned forward with a deliberately inviting smile. “Would you care to join me for coffee in the living room?” she asked Jed.

He hesitated, then nodded in his usual brusque manner. “Good idea. I need to report on the results of my security check, anyway.”

As if the pleasure of her company wasn’t nearly enough.

Tabitha looked spitefully pleased. “I believe I’d like to sit in on this, too, Sharlayne. I’m naturally interested in anything that pertains to your safety.”

“Naturally.” Alice gestured to the maid, who indicated with a nod that she understood.

In the living room, Alice took a seat on the overstuffed red sofa; Jed chose a chair opposite, while Tabitha hovered near the heavily carved fireplace, her eyes narrowed and watchful.

“Tell us, Mr. Kelby,” Tabitha said as the maid poured coffee from a silver pot, “is Sharlayne safe here?”

Jed waited until the coffee had been served and the maid departed before answering. Then he said, “Ms. Kenyon is safe only if there’s no threat. There is no security system.”

Alice gasped. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish. There’s no alarm system, the entry gate doesn’t lock, the fence has a number of breaks and none of the windows can be properly secured. There are enough vines and shrubberies around the windows, even on the second floor, that a child could reach them.”

Tabitha and Alice eyed each other in confusion. Alice said, “I don’t understand.”

Jed gave her a long, level look. “Were you told there was a full-fledged security system here when you bought the place?”

“Well, no, but…I just assumed, I guess.” Or the real Sharlayne had assumed. Or maybe she knew the truth and didn’t consider it important. “This place had stood empty for several years and there were a lot of repairs before we—before I could move in.”

Tabitha set her cup on the mantel. “And you were in a hurry and pushed the refurbishment through,” she said. She added to Jed, “Would it be very expensive to install what we need?”

“Yes.” There was no softening of the word; Jed simply announced his opinion.

Alice felt a cold chill down her spine. “Of course, there’s no real threat,” she ventured. “Just a media circus to be kept at bay…maybe an occasional groupie. I don’t see that this presents a major problem, do you, Tabby?”

“Let me think about it.” Tabitha retrieved her cup. “My instinct is that it will be all right for at least a while—perhaps as long as Mr. Kelby is in residence. Speaking of which…” She was obviously trying for a pleasant expression. “Which room will Mr. Kelby occupy?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“I have, and I have a suggestion,” Tabitha said. “In light of these new findings, I feel strongly that he should sleep as close to your suite as possible. Perhaps the room across the hall from you?” She added for Jed’s benefit, “That room is quite pleasant, actually…of reasonable size and not too feminine.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. I agree I should be close, though. The lack of security leaves me concerned if not alarmed.”

“Maybe while you’re here, you could prepare a security plan for us,” Tabitha suggested.

“Good idea.” He finished his coffee and rose. “If you’ll direct me, I’ll pull my stuff inside now.”

“Up the stairs.” Tabitha pointed. “Turn left. Your room is the first door on the right.”

“Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Alice seethed until he’d had plenty of time to get out of earshot. Then she snarled at Tabitha, “What the heck are you up to?”

“Me? Not a thing.” Feline malevolence colored her voice.

“Don’t give me that. Why did you suggest that room?”

“Because the man makes you nervous and I like seeing you nervous,” Tabitha hissed. “Installing you in her place is probably the stupidest idea Sharlayne ever had. If I’ve got to be a party to it, there should be something in it for me, too, even if it’s only watching you squirm.”

Alice looked at her with pity. “Tabitha, that’s mean. Even for you, that’s mean.”

Tabitha caught her breath, her cheeks flushing. “How dare you speak to me that way!” She uttered the words in a hoarse undertone. “If she heard you, you’d be in a ton of—”

“I’m sorry,” Jed said from the doorway. “Am I interrupting anything?” He stood there with a long canvas bag over his shoulder and a newspaper in his hand.

Had he overheard anything he shouldn’t have? A glance at Tabitha revealed that she, too, was concerned about that possibility. His expression was closed and unreadable and giving nothing away.

“You’re not interrupting a thing,” Alice said with false carelessness. “What can I do for you, Jed?”

“You can explain this item in the newspaper.” He shook out a copy of the U.S. Eye, already turned to the page he wanted, and read: “‘We hear that the scrumptious Sharlayne Kenyon is holed up in her new Beverly Hills digs with a bad case of laryngitis. Fortunately for her, she’s also holed up with a new main squeeze, a mystery man with the physique of a…”’ Here Jed’s voice dripped with scorn. “‘Of a’…well, let that go. Either of you care to explain this item?”

Alice turned to Tabitha, incapable of making any plausible explanation. Fortunately, Tabitha was equal to the task.

“That’s what we call a planted item,” she said calmly. “We want to keep people away from Sharlayne. That will help us do it. If she’s sick and being attended by a new boyfriend, no one will expect to see her out and about. This sort of thing is done all the time.”

Jed’s taut expression didn’t relax. “Lying’s a way of life, huh? Do me a favor and leave me out of any future flights of fancy.” He pivoted, disgust in every line of his body, and stalked out of the room.

ALICE DIDN’T SEE Jed again that night before retiring to her suite. Restless, she prowled through the beautiful rooms, turning the television on and off a half-dozen times. For a while, she sat on her balcony, which overlooked the glistening swimming pool below, and wondered why she felt as edgy as a criminal anticipating the long arm of the law.

Finally, she decided that what she needed was a snack. In Sharlayne’s small refrigerator behind the wet bar, she found soda, bottled water, three candy bars—bad Sharlayne!—and a small bunch of shriveled green grapes.