- Covert Steele
- Part Three
- After closing the door behind the
smiling bellhop, Remington realized that Laura was not in the
main room of the luxuriously appointed suite
"Laura?" he called, moving toward the bedroom doorway.
Giving the satin covered king-size bed a lingering smile, he
noticed that the sliding glass door that led out onto the balcony
was open. "Laura?" he said again, cautiously approaching
the open portal to find Laura standing near the railing, surveying
the ocean below as the sun's light faded. "Nice view, isn't
it?" he asked, sliding his arms around her waist to draw
her against him. He felt her tension.
"Umm," she murmured noncommittally.
At least she hadn't pulled away from him, Remington thought to
himself. A good sign. "I swear to you, Laura, I had no idea
those gems were here. I hope you believe that. If I had wanted
to, I could have stolen them in San Francisco."
"Why didn't you?" Laura asked in a soft voice. "Why
turn your back on something you had been after for months to
become Remington Steele?"
"I could say that it was because I couldn't resist the challenge
I saw in your lovely eyes," he told her, and smiled when
she half turned to look up at him. "But that wouldn't be
the entire truth. I think it was because I sensed a chance to
find something I'd been after my entire life." Seeing her
curiosity, Remington continued. "A home. A place where I
felt as if I belonged. That's much more important than those
gems could ever have been."
"And do you?" she asked. "Feel like you belong,
I mean?"
"I've lived in so many places over the years, Laura,"
he confided. "But none of those places have been home-and
would you like to know why?" he asked. She nodded as he
turned her fully into his arms. "Because you weren't there."
He touched her face, then framed it between his hands. "Even
if someone were to offer me every last jewel on the plant, they
couldn't possibly compare to the one I'm looking at right now."
He slowly lowered his head, touching his lips to hers. He felt
her arms slide around him, pulling him close
And then the telephone rang. Remington groaned, and pulled back
as Laura murmured, "Mildred." He thought he detected
not a small hint of frustration in her voice.
"It was YOUR decision to bring her along," Remington
reminded her as she moved away to pick up the still ringing telephone.
He remained on the balcony, listening to her through the doorway.
"Hello?Mildred. All settled in?SplendidNo. You're not interrupting
anything," she insisted, as Remington peered into the room
to smile at her before moving to open the suitcase that lay at
the end of the bed. "We're unpackingYes. We noticed that
tooThat's a good ideaJust keep your eyes openYes, I will. Goodnight,
MildredTo you and yours, too." She hung up the telephone,
and watched as he carried his hang up clothes into the closet
area. "She wanted us to know that she's in room 115 in case
we need her," she said.
"never know. I suppose she noticed the Lavulite as well."
"She thinks it's romantic," Laura told him, rising
from the bed as he picked up the empty case and placed it inside
the closet. "The gems that brought us together, being here."
Remington looked at her with an uncertain expression. "It
almost sounds as if you agree with her, Laura," he said,
watching as she placed a hand on his shirt front, running her
finger along the buttons.
"Maybe it's a- sign."
"A sign? I thought you didn't go in for that sort of thing."
"Can't a person change?" Laura asked. "Start believing
in fate? Kismet?"
"And where do those bloody gems come into this?"
Laura's hands slip up to his shoulders. "You're really upset
that they're here, aren't you?" she asked.
"The last time they crossed our paths, Laura, we nearly
lost the agency's license- and I came too close to losing you
when you and Clarissa fell from my balcony. Let's just say that
I've seen the dark side of fate, and I don't like to tempt Her."
"What could possibly happen here in Paradise, Mr. Steele?"
she asked.
"That's what worries me. Everytime those gems come into
our lives, something happens."
"But they brought us together," she reminded him.
"The only good thing they've done, in my opinion,"
he muttered, looking down at her. Her lips were ready, waiting,
but a hairs breath from them, Remington paused and glanced at
the telephone. "Why don't we go for a walk on the beach?"
he suggested. "Recapture the mood without fear of being
interrupted by a call from Mildred?"
"Sounds wonderful," she agreed. "Let me unpack
and then we can go."
"I'll help," he offered, releasing her and watching
as she unfastened the catches on her luggage. Taking the hang
up clothes, he carried them into the closet, putting them beside
his. Stepping back, her surveyed the scene.
Laura finished her own chores, then joined him. "What are
you looking at?"
"Oh, just how-right your things look next to mine,"
he told her. Ready to go?"
She slipped her arm through his. "Ready-John," she
said.
***
He was still in the lobby, paper held before his face, when the
elevator doors opened and he saw them again. They were laughing
at something, and the woman smiled, nodding in agreement as Harry
drew her to the desk.
"My wife and I will be out for a little while. Could you
please have a magnum of champagne delivered to our room to be
chilling while we're gone?"
"Yes, Mr. Robie," the clerk said with a smile. "Shall
I call for a car?"
"No. We're going to take a walk on the beach."
"Enjoy yourselves, then."
So the woman was his wife. Not just his current girlfriend. "Wonder
if she knows what her husband does for a living?" he wondered.
Probably not. She didn't look like Harry's usual type. He'd always
preferred big blondes with few brains. Probably a rich man's
daughter that Harry was scamming. That would be like him. Although
he'd never known Harry to go so far as to marry his markBut then,
it had been a long time since he had last seen Chalmers' protege.
The couple was no more out of the front doors when he saw the
white coated man pushing a service cart containing the requested
champagne on ice, heading for the elevator. Quickly folding his
paper, he moved across the lobby to join the young man, smiling
at him as they waited for the lift doors to open. "Looks
like someone's doing some celebrating."
"Apparently." The doors opened, and he held the doors
open for the young man to push the cart inside.
"What floor?" he asked helpfully, his finger hovering
over the buttons.
"Fourth."
"The Honeymoon floor, eh?" He pushed the appropriate
button, then the one for the next floor as well. "I'm on
five, myself."
The waiter smiled again, fussing with the tablecloth and bucket
until the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. Again,
he held open the doors, then watched as the man went down the
hallway to Room 402 and pulled out his passkey. He let the doors
close, went up to the next stop and then got off, ducking into
the stairway. If Harry were indeed after those gems, there would
be something in his room to give him away. Plans, perhaps. Blueprints
of the hotel, notes on the security system.
He waited in the stairway until he saw the waiter come from the
room and return to the elevator. Once the doors were safely closed,
he came into the hallway and walked to the door of Room 402.
Knocking, he waited, just to be certain this was the correct
room. Then, after glancing both ways, he pulled a leather case
from his pocket and drew out two lock picks. "Piece of cake,"
he thought as the lock clicked open. Opening the door, he slipped
into the room
***
The wave stopped only inches from Laura's bare feet, as she stood
there. In the distance, she could hear the sound of a steel guitar
playing softly. She could feel Remington close behind her, feel
the heat emanating from his lean body. The breeze from the ocean
ruffled her hair, and shivered at the sudden temperature change,
wrapping her arms around her waist. Without a word, Remington
removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. "Better?"
he asked.
"Better," she agreed. "This is nice," she
told him, leaning back against him. His arms went around her,
and she felt his lips on her hair before he rested his chin on
her head. It always amazed Laura that they fit together so well.
"And that's even better," she said.
"I suppose we should talk about the case," he said.
"We could-" she agreed. "But Mildred's going to
keep an eye out around the hotel- I think that the best way to
handle this case is to ACT like the honeymoon couple we're supposed
to be so not to attract undue attention, don't you?" she
asked, turning into his arms.
Remington's eyes searched her face. "I would agree- but
isn't this a rather drastic turn around from your attitude on
the flight over?" he asked. "I thought you didn't like
the idea of having to pose as a happily married couple?"
"I've reconsidered," she said. "Maybe it's being
here, in Hawaii. Maybe it's because the Royal Lavulite is here-
I don't know. But things just seem to be- right somehow."
She looked up at him. "Would you prefer I maintain my distance,
Mr. Steele?" she wanted to know, moving so that there was
hardly ANY distance between them at all.
"Oh, far be it from me to look a gift horse in the mouth,"
he said with a smile, and Laura gave him a surprised look. "It
might bite," he added with a wicked gleam in those eyes.
"Think you could survive a nip or two?" Laura returned,
laughing softly at his surprised expression.
"I think I might be able to manage," he admitted at
last, lowering his head until his lips were close enough for
Laura to feel his breath on her own lips. When he made no move
to meet her, Laura raised up and pressed her lips to his, her
arms going around his neck. She buried her fingers in his dark,
thick hair, felt his fingers caressing her back.
When the kiss finally ended, Laura looked up at him. "Why
don't we go back to the hotel?" she suggested. "I think
that champagne should be properly chilled by now, don't you?"
"An excellent idea, Mrs. Robie," he agreed, giving
her another quick kiss that threatened to last longer. "But
we don't want it to cool off TOO much, do we?"
Laura smiled suggestively. "I don't think there's any chance
of that, Mr. Robie. Not tonight."
He put his arm around her shoulders and led her back toward the
hotel's beach entrance. The lobby was still relatively busy,
as they crossed the room, laughing and talking softly, neither
noticed the white suited man sitting in a nearby chair, newspaper
opened before him. "Well, well, is it isn't my old friend
John Robie," he said in a voice that carried a French accent.
Remington stopped in his tracks, and Laura felt him tense immediately,
and for a moment thought he was going to ignore the man's words.
But he finally turned with a wary smile. "Phillipe,"
he said. "It's been a long time."
"Oui," Phillipe agreed, shaking the offered hand briefly.
"At least ten years. Paris, was it not? When you and Daniel
and I-?" He was several years older than Remington, Laura
guessed. Heavyset, with dark, hawk-like eyes that made her want
to take a long shower when he looked at her.
"Wish we could talk over told times, Phillipe," Remington
began, "but it's been a long day-"
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your wife, my friend?"
Phillipe asked, and Laura hated herself for moving closer to
Remington.
"Uh, Laura, this is- Phillipe DeMoray. An- old friend."
Phillipe took Laura's hand and bowed over it, bringing it to
his lips as he examined the golden wedding band on her finger.
"You have not been married long, surely."
"Five years," Remington said quickly, practically pulling
Laura's hand from Phillipe's grasp as he stepped back. "Excuse
us, Phillipe."
"Tomorrow," Phillipe said, his eyes on Laura, "tomorrow,
we must talk. I am very- curious about the woman who finally
managed to capture- Johnny." He said the name with a French
accent, and Laura could hear the implied threat as those dark
eyes moved to Remington. "And you and I must catch up on
old times, my friend. I have been- out of touch for the last
few years. I insist that you both be my guest for lunch tomorrow."
"We'd love to," Laura said quickly, aware that he wasn't
going to let them go without the agreement. "I just LOVE
meeting Johnny's old friends, don't I dearest?" She smiled
at his worried look. "If you'll excuse us, Phillipe, Johnny
and I have to go."
He took her hand again. "Until tomorrow, then, Madame."
Remington shot him a warning look before Laura allowed him to
pull her toward the elevators. Another guest entered the carriage
as well, giving them no privacy to discuss what had just happened.
So Laura decided to wait until they were in the room.
As soon as the door closed, Laura whirled to confront Remington.
"So much for not running into any of your old friends here,"
she said.
He raised his hands. "Before you say anything, Laura, I
don't suppose that you'd be agreeable to the idea of catching
the next flight home, would you?" He sighed at her set expression.
"I didn't think so."
"We're not going ANYwhere!" Laura told him. "We're
here on a case, remember? Now, who the HELL is Phillipe DeMoray?"
To be continued...
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content ©2000 by Nancy Eddy