ReJoined Steele Part 9

ReJoined Steele
Part Nine

"Jack-," Laura began to call out, but Harry pulled her close. "Icy calm, Miss Holt. We don't want to attract undue attention, now, do we?" He pulled her down onto a bench at his side. A moment later, Jackie Crawford sat on Harry's right, a magazine in his hands. He opened the magazine, then pretended to read it. "Hey, Harry," he said quietly. "Miss Holt. How's it going?" "YOU'RE the operative?" Laura asked in a whisper. "How long have you been working for Harry?" "Oh, ten years, I guess." "Did Jeannie fill you in?" Harry asked, keeping his eyes on the doorway. "Yeah. As much as she could. Said you were playing this pretty close to the vest." His dark eyes moved to Laura. "Now I see why. Got it, Harry?" Harry put his right hand into his pocket as her left arm fell across the seat behind Laura. He pulled out the small velvet pouch, dropping it to the seat between himself and the young man. Jackie's left hand fell easily to the seat, taking the bag and putting it into his own pocket. "Well," he said as a departing bus was announced. "Guess that's my call to go." "Let me know when you get there," Harry told the younger man. "And check in with Jeannie. You know how she worries." "Yeah. About you, mostly," Jackie returned with a grin that revealed those white teeth. "See ya, Miss Holt." And he was gone. Harry remained in the terminal for another few minutes, watching the other people getting on the bus that Jackie boarded, then he extended an arm. "Shall we, Miss Holt?" "He's leaving on a BUS?" she questioned as they went to her car. "For a start, yes. After the first few blocks, he'll change his mind, get off the bus and find an alternate means of transport that will ultimately take him to South Africa." He pressed the button to deactivate the alarm, then unlocked the doors. "An alarm for your car but none at your house," he mused. "Doesn't make sense to me." "It's a safe neighborhood," Laura told him as he started the car. "How did you and Jackie meet up again?" "I happened to be in New York- so was he. Don't ask me how he got there after leaving that reform school they sent him to. I have no idea." "Was he still up to his old tricks?" Laura asked, recalling that the first time they'd met Jackie, he had been a younger version of Harry- a pickpocket. "Of course. I stopped him from picking a pocket and once he was over his anger at that, I offered him a job." "Nice of you." He nodded. "I thought it would be a good idea to return a bit of what Daniel gave me." "But keep him out of the life." "Wanted him to realize that he had a choice. Either continue picking pockets and conning people, probably ending up alone, or in prison, or dead- or get a legitimate job that put his natural gifts to good use." Laura smiled. "I bet he was furious that you stopped him." "Slightly. Had to chase the bugger down again." He glanced at her. "He-uh, told me that I was crazy to have left you," he said. "Really?" Another nod. "I told him that if I hadn't, then I wouldn't have been there to stop him from picking a police detective's pocket. So maybe there was a reason for my leaving after all," he suggested. He turned the corner that would take them back to Laura's house. "Maybe we each had to be on our own again to find ourselves. To become comfortable in our own skins, as it were." Uncertain about what to say, Laura found the remote for the garage door and pressed the button. Harry drove the car into the garage, then followed her into the kitchen. "Your keys," he said, holding them out. Laura took them, placing them on the counter. "Thanks. Would like some more wine? Or maybe some coffee?" The blue eyes lit with humor. "YOUR coffee?" he teased gently. "I'll have you know that it's improved since you left," she told him as she turned toward the counter. "Tony's never complained about it," she said in deliberate tone. Harry leaned against another counter, watching her measure the coffee. "Yes. I got the impression that Antony's been a frequent visitor over the last twelve years. Certainly knew where everything was." "Tony's been a good friend," she said, pouring water into the coffeemaker with easy movements. "Whenever he's in town, he stops by, makes sure things are going okay." She moved to pass him on her way to another cabinet, but Harry stopped her with a hand on her arm. "And what else?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice. "If I go into your closet, will I find another white belt?" he asked, referring to the time he'd found Wilson Jefferies' white belt and slacks in her closet. Laura jerked her arm away, continuing toward the cabinet to get the cups. "If you did, it wouldn't be any of your business," she pointed out, then turned to look at him. "What makes you think that you can come in here and ask me about my personal life? You gave up the right to know that, remember? Twelve years ago, when you walked out without a second glance!" Laura paused, knowing that she had said too much, that her words revealed more of her hurt and pain than she wanted him to see. He stood there, watching her. "I looked, Laura. But it didn't appear to me that you missed me very much. From the articles I read in the Los Angeles papers, you were doing quite nicely on your own. But no matter what else was between us, I thought we were still friends, at least. And friends worry about each other." Laura's head was bowed as she spoke. "I read the papers, too. Looking for any mention of you. Any thefts, arrests." Harry shook his head slowly. "Couldn't risk getting caught and having someone recognize me as Remington Steele," he told her. He lifted a finger to touch her cheek. "You see? I was thinking of you. Of how that would hurt you here, in Los Angeles." Laura knew she should move away from Harry's touch. But she couldn't move. "Laura, the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. I tried to make my leaving as painless as possible--" he said, but Laura met his gaze with narrowed eyes. "And you think that gives you the right to barge back into my life and ask who I've been sleeping with?" she questioned, moving past him at last and going back to the coffee, which was now ready, and poured two cups. "I don't see YOU volunteering any information on who you've been with over the last twelve years," she said. Harry sighed, took his cup of coffee and sat down at the table. "The last twelve years are an open book, Laura. Anything you want to know- just ask." Laura looked at him, wondering if this was some kind of trick. He certainly sounded serious. "Anything?" she asked. "Anything," he assured her, taking a sip of the coffee. "This IS good," he said, sounding a bit surprised. "Thank you," she said, sitting across from him. His offer had thrown her for a loop. "Why didn't you call, Harry? Or at least send a postcard. SOMEthing to let me know you were still alive." The humor was back in his eyes. "Why, Laura. That almost sounds as if you were worried about me." "Friends, remember?" she asked, and he lifted his coffee in a silent toast to the idea. He placed both hands around the cup when it found the table again. "I thought you needed the space. I don't know how many times I picked up a telephone, intending to call, but something always seemed to stop me. Another call, or Jeannie coming in. Fate, I suppose." "Who's- Jeannie?" she asked, hoping that she didn't sound TOO curious. "Jeannie?" Harry smiled, and Laura wondered why his expression softened as he thought about the woman. "Well, she's--" His voice trailed off as Tony entered the room. "Laura?" he paused upon seeing them sitting at the table, drinking coffee. His eyes found Laura's. "I called from Mildred's and there wasn't an answer. I got worried," he explained, finding a mug and helping himself to some coffee. Harry's gaze sharpened as he noticed that the ceramic mug was emblazoned with the name TONY. "Harry and I had to meet his operative and give him the gems," Laura explained as he sat down beside her. "Oh. I thought maybe Hepplewhite might have gotten an early lead on things," he said, taking her hand as it lay on the table. Harry released his cup and stood up. "If you'll excuse me, it's getting late. I'll call a cab to take me back to the hotel." "I thought you were worried about reporters?" Laura asked, pulling her hand away from Tony's- too late for Harry to notice, since he had turned away. "I'm sure I can manage to avoid them until I'm ready to talk to them." She rose from the chair, as did Tony. "We still haven't discussed what you're going to say." He turned to look at her as he took out his telephone. "Let me handle that, okay?" "It's just that I might have to back up your story. I suppose you could stay here for the night," she began. Harry noticed Tony's arm around Laura's waist and shook his head. "I don't think that's a very good idea," he told her. He dialed a number and ordered a cab. Turning off the phone, he told her, "There's one just around the corner. I'll just wait outside. Good night." "Harry," Laura said, following him to the door, aware that Tony was right behind her. "I've got a spare room- you're welcome to--" "And where's Antony going to sleep?" he asked, wishing he could wipe that smirk from Tony's face. Tony put his arm around Laura's shoulders, pulling her close. "Where I always sleep when I'm in Los Angeles," he said, then smiled down at Laura. "Right?" "Right," she agreed slowly, returning his look. There was a honk from the street. "There's my cab," Harry told them. "I'll see you tomorrow morning. Early." He left the house, trying to keep his mind off the scene he'd just witnessed- Laura and Tony waving him off and closing the door of her house as if they belonged there. Maybe they did. Maybe he SHOULD go back to Ireland, Harry mused, give up the dream for good. But something told him that he'd be making the biggest mistake of his life if he did. He had the uneasy feeling that if he didn't fight for that dream now, he'd lose it forever. The cab was already around the corner and a block away when he leaned forward. "I've changed my mind," he said, holding a twenty-dollar bill out for the driver. "Let me out here." "Here?" the driver questioned, looking at him as if he had taken leave of his senses. Maybe he had. But Harry felt that he had to take the chance. He pulled out another bill. "Thanks. Sorry for the trouble," he said, getting out of the car. It pulled away from the curb, and Harry started walking back toward the corner. No way was he going to leave Laura and Tony alone in that house. He'd take her up on her offer of a room.
***
"Do you think he bought it?" Laura asked. "Hmm," Tony murmured noncommittally. "Maybe. Hard to tell with him." But he'd seen the look in the other man's eyes. He was jealous. "Maybe I should call him," Laura said. Tony pulled her away from the phone. "This was your idea, remember?" "I know." Tony gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, then picked up his coat. "Guess I'd better get back to my place. I'll talk to you tomorrow morning, okay? Get some sleep." Laura nodded, walking with him to the front door, then waving as he walked down the sidewalk to his rented car. She closed the door, then turned, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off a sudden chill. She'd never noticed how empty this place was before. She went to her room, unfastening her blouse, kicking off her shoes as she moved. Tony was right. She needed to sleep. But the memory of those blue eyes as he'd seen Tony's hand on her waist haunted her. Yes, he deserved to be taken down a peg or two, but she didn't want to see him hurt. Removing her clothes, she was about to find a nightgown when there was a knock at the door. Frowning, Laura grabbed her robe and slipped into it, tying the belt at her waist before she went back into the living room. Thinking that Tony had returned, she peered out the peephole. "Who's there?" she called out. "It's me, Laura," Harry replied though the wood. Laura grabbed the lapels of her robe, then opened the door slightly. "I thought you were going back to the hotel?" "Changed my mind," he told her. "Can I come in?" Laura hesitated for a moment, closed the door again and removed the chain before opening it for him. "Thank you. I realized that I hadn't answered your question earlier." Laura frowned up at him in confusion. "About Jeannie," he prodded. "Oh," she said, closing the door, then turning expectantly. She saw his glance toward the bedrooms. "Where's Antony? In bed already? I DO hope I didn't-interrupt anything," he commented in a wry tone. "You didn't," Laura assured him. "What about Jeannie?" "She's probably the most important woman in my life these days," Harry said, removing his jacket. "Couldn't keep HCR operating if it weren't for her help and support." "I'm-very happy for you," Laura managed, wondering why he was telling her this. Because he was jealous of her "relationship" with Tony and wanted to dig in the knife a little? See if she bled green herself? "Sounds as if you're a very lucky man." "I think I am. The day I ran into her was a godsend." His blue eyes bored into her dark ones. "Laura, Jeannie McNamara is sixty years old and a grandmother. Her late husband was an associate of Daniel's years ago. He helped her out whenever he could- and when I needed someone to take care of the office, Jeannie offered her services. Reminds me of Mildred in some ways." "I see." Harry touched her cheek. "Do you? I somehow doubt it. Do you want to know why I really came back?" he asked, then didn't wait for her answer. "I realized that I hadn't wished you a proper goodnight." Laura didn't move as his head lowered. Her lashes fluttered closed, and then she felt as if she were floating. Her arms slid around his neck of their own volition, and Laura pressed herself against him, reveling in the way he made her feel. When the kiss ended, she realized that she was securely in Harry's arms. What was it about this man's kisses, she wondered with the small part of her brain that was left functioning. He'd walked out on her, abandoned her to make it on her own. She should be furious with him. And if he thought Tony was in the other room, waiting for her to return, for him to be trying to seduce her now was-well, it was crazy- and flattering at the same time. "Where's the spare bedroom?" he asked in that soft voice that sent shivers down Laura's spine. "That-that way," she said, pointing, then she frowned. "You don't have to--" she began, but Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to force you into a physical relationship, Laura," he told her. "And besides, I don't think Antony would like sharing your attentions." He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Pleasant dreams," he whispered, then turned and entered the guestroom with a final glance back at Laura as he closed the door. Leaning on it, he sighed. He knew Tony wasn't in the house. He had seen the other man leave just as he neared the house and had ducked behind a hedge until the car had turned the corner. How many times had Laura insisted on separate rooms during their long, tumultuous courtship? He wondered. Perhaps it was time for him to give her back some of her own, he thought as he moved toward the bed, tossing his jacket over the back of a chair and unbuttoning his shirt. The soft tap on the door brought a smile to his face that he quickly hid as he said, "Yes?" Laura opened the door and looked in as he removed his shirt, then sat on the side of the bed to remove his shoes. "I- wanted to let you know there are more blankets in the closet over there if you need them." "I'm sure I'll be fine," he said. "You forget that I'm used to a much cooler climate in Ireland." He rose from the bed. "Thank you, anyway." She didn't move, just watched him as his hands moved to the top button of his jeans. "Should you be keeping Antony waiting, Laura?" She blinked, once, twice, before answering. "Tony's- not- here," she admitted slowly. "He left right after you did. I'm surprised you didn't see him . . ." her eyes widened as realization dawned. "You DID, didn't you? You knew Tony wasn't here when you knocked on that door!" "I just wanted to see how long you'd play the game," Harry told her. "Good night, Laura," he said firmly, undoing the rest of the buttons on the jeans and turning his back on her before removing them. The door closed, and Harry sighed- then froze as he felt Laura's hand against his back. "Laura--" Her arms slid around him as she pressed herself against his back. "What's wrong, Harry? Afraid?" He turned in her arms, looking down into her face. "Yes, I am. Of myself. And THIS. I have to know that there's more than just sex between us, Laura. That there's something more. Something deeper." She stood on tiptoe to touch her lips to his, then stepped back, and for a moment, Harry thought that was going to turn and leave the room. But her hands went to the belt of her robe- and slowly untied the knot. Slowly, Laura allowed the soft fabric to slide from her shoulders to pool around her ankles on the floor. "I think we both know that there is, Harry. There's been something between us ever since that day that you walked into that office as Ben Pearson. I'm tired of fighting it, Harry. I've missed you. And not just THIS," she said, leaning toward him, "but having you around. Dammit, Harry Chalmers, I love you. Doesn't that mean anything?" Harry groaned softly and pulled her into his arms. "The world, Laura. It means the world," he murmured against her flesh as they fell onto the bed . . .

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