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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Original content ©2000 by Nancy Eddy