Steele In the Know3

Part 3

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Remington was just putting the final touches on the place settings when he heard the front door open. Glancing at his watch, he quickly returned his attention to placing the silverware just so as she came into the room.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized. "I had a visitor waiting when I got to the loft."

"Your mother?" he asked, "Frances, perhaps?"

"No, as a matter of fact, it was Murphy."

"Ah, yes. Good old Murphy. I'm sure the two of you had a great many things to discuss. Dinner's ready," he told her. "I'll just bring it in. Would you light the candles, please?"

"Hold it," Laura said, causing him to stop in the doorway of the kitchen. "I think we need to talk, Remington."

He turned at last to look at her. "About anything- specific? Or just general chit-chat?"

"You're jealous," she accused.

"Don't be ridiculous, Laura," he said. "Why on earth would I possibly be jealous of Murphy?"

"He told me that he came by the office this afternoon," she said softly. "And what you talked about."

"Mmm. Dinner's getting cold," he said, suddenly not wanting to take the subject any further. He continued into the kitchen where he picked up a the lemon chicken he'd prepared.

"You can heat it up, then," Laura told him, following him. "I think we need to settle this."

"Come now, Laura." Remington moved smoothly past her to carry the dish to the table. What's there to be settled? It's over and done with," he pointed out. "What use is there in rehashing it?" he asked, turning around to find Laura standing before him.

She took his hand. "Come here," she said, leading him over to the couch. "Sit down."

"Laura, really. I-." He grunted as she gently pushed him onto the leather cushions.

"I suppose I should have told you about what happened then, but- I suppose I was afraid to."

"Afraid?" he questioned. "Afraid of what? That I would go chasing off after Murphy and beat him to a pulp?"

Laura sighed. "Partly," she admitted. "There was no real harm done," she insisted. "I really felt sorry for him after -," she said.

"After what- precisely? After he kissed you? Or after he tried to-," his voice trailed off. He had promised himself to remain calm. He'd amazed himself with his control when Murphy had admitted trying to force himself on Laura that last day. But Murphy had been apologetic, even offering to step back, remove himself from the wedding party and return to Denver. Remington hadn't given him an answer, wanting to talk to Laura first.

"It wasn't what you think," Laura insisted.

"Then what was it, Laura?" he asked. "Suppose you tell me YOUR version of what happened that day before Murphy left and I arrived?"

Laura sighed and sat down near him. "There's not much TOO tell, really. I was at home, waiting for you to arrive when Murphy knocked on the door. He said he had decided that it was time for him to leave the agency. I asked him why, asked if he was unhappy at the agency, if he needed more money. He said it wasn't the money, -that he wasn't really needed at the agency anymore. That you'd learned as much in the few months you'd been around as he had in two years at Havenhurst." She managed a wan smile. "He didn't want me to tell you about that. Said he'd deny ever having said it if I did. I still tried to talk him out of it, tried to convince him to at least stay for a little longer- just to- make sure that you weren't going to -."

"Take off," Remington finished, rising and going into the dining room to retrieve the glasses of wine he'd poured earlier. He returned and handed one to her.

"I hoped you wouldn't," she said, gazing into the white wine. "But with my track record, I couldn't rule out the possibility. But Murphy asked why I wanted you to stay. If it was for the agency- or because I was starting to care about you. As usual, I tried to deny the second reason, said it was only for the agency's sake. He said that he couldn't stay and watch me get hurt again. That he couldn't pick up the pieces again, not feeling the way he did about me." Remington's blue eyes moved from the stem of his glass to look at her. "I knew he -cared- hell," she said, rising to pace the room. "How could I NOT know that he thought he was in love with me? I guess it was unfair, but I suppose I used him as a guard against- facing my feelings for you."

"What happened, Laura?" he asked in a softer voice.

"That's when he showed the report he'd had done on the names that were on those five passports. He said it was filled with information about you and your- mysterious past."

"A report." Remington repeated. Murphy had told him about the report, but the words hadn't registered. His mind had been on the other things that Murphy had been admitting to.

"Right after you stepped into Remington Steele's shoes, Murphy started badgering me to run a check on those names- see if you were wanted for some heinous crime. I refused to consider it. I mean, how would we ever able to carry on with your being Remington Steele if we found out that Murphy was right and that really WERE a suspected axe murderer or something?" Her smile wasn't returned.

"But Murphy went behind your back and did it anyway," he realized.

"Yes. He handed it to me, started to tell me what was inside the folder, but I told him I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to read about your past. I wanted to hear it from you." She went to the table and refilled her glass. "I was furious with him for doing something like that. In my mind it was like his having done an investigation on Bernice- or me. He insisted that I had to read it- that it would prove that you weren't the right man for me."

"And he thought he was, of course."

She nodded. "That's when he- it wasn't anything really terrible," she insisted. "Nothing I couldn't handle. Not much worse than when Derek Vivyan made that pass at me. He kissed me, and when I didn't respond, he kissed me again, told me that he loved me."

"And what did you do?"

"Told him that he was right: It WAS time that he move on, open his own agency. You called about that time to tell me that you were on your way, so he left." Sitting down again, she looked at her hands as they clasped the nearly empty glass. "He called a few months later, apologized for everything. We agreed to forget that it ever happened."

"And you decided not to worry me with all of this out of concern for Murphy?" Remington asked her. "Yet you told me about what Derek had done- or tried to do?"

"It was different," she insisted. "You and I were still- walking on eggshells as far as a relationship away from the office went. And then there's the fact that I'd known Murphy for years. I knew that he'd regret what he'd done. The last thing any of us needed was for you to go all jealous and macho on me and -Well, like I said, there was no real harm done."

"What happened to the report?"

"I put it under a cushion on the sofa," she told him. "I couldn't very well leave it laying there when you arrived, could I?"

"Did you read it?"

"No."

He looked at her, disbelief in his tone as he spoke. "You're telling me that you had all of that information right there, in your hands, and yet you weren't tempted to read it?"

"I didn't say I wasn't tempted," Laura pointed out. "Just that I didn't let that temptation lead me to do something that I had already taken Murphy to task for doing. Like I said, I wanted to hear it from you."

"Where is it now?" he asked.

"It was still at the house when- they blew it up." She looked at him. "Should I call Murphy and tell him to go back to Denver?"

"Why did he come over to the loft?"

Laura heard the slight thread of jealousy in that voice. "To warn me of what I was walking into this evening."

"He can stay- I suppose." Laura smiled at his acceptance.

"Now. Let's go see how much longer dinner is going be," he said, but instead he took Laura in his arms and gave her a kiss. "Come on. You can help me reheat dinner."

But Laura wouldn't let him go. "Why don't we have dinner later?" she suggested, one finger playing with the top button of his shirt.

Remington brought her hand to his lips. "If the chicken's left too long, it won't be edible," he told her. "Besides, I have a feeling that I'm going to be needing the extra strength," he said with a half smile.

Laura's grin was wicked. "What's the matter? Having trouble- keeping up?"

"Not at all," he assured her smoothly, hiding his surprise at her double entendre. "Just trying to get used to the new, improved Laura who can't seem to keep her lovely hands off of me."

Laura sighed. "Is it MY fault you're so addicting?" she asked.

"Addicting, eh?" he asked, rather liking the idea for some reason. "Then it IS just that you can't resist me and not-," he broke off, uncertain of how to phrase his question without sending her back into her shell.

Maybe he was too late, he thought as he saw a hint of the old wariness in Laura's brown eyes. "Not- what?"

He turned toward the kitchen. "I- uh, think I'll get the chicken back into the oven," he told her, stopping to pick up the casserole dish on his way, aware that Laura was close behind him.

"Not- what?" she asked again.

Remington kept his movements slow and deliberate to give himself time as he replaced the lid on the dish and put it back into the oven, setting the temperature and timer. Wiping his hands on a dish towel, he turned to face her at last. "I don't want you to think that I'm complaining- your sudden about face regarding our- physical relationship delights me to no end. Knowing that after all this time you want me as much as I want you is a continual journey of discovery for me."

"How come I hear a 'but' in there?" Laura asked, watching him.

"I can't help but wonder if you, uh, if you were this- uninhibited with Wilson," he finished quickly.

"You mean, wanting to get you into a bed for an entire week at least?" Laura asked, coming forward to link her arms around his neck.

"Umm- something like that. Making love at the office- in the back seat of the limo the other day- those are things you would never have done before."

Laura smiled at him. "I don't know if I should tell you. I mean, what incentive do I have to tell you something so- personal about my life before we met?"

"What kind of incentive did you have in mind?" he asked, looking down at her.

"Oh, you come up with something."

"Laura, love," he told her gently, placing a hand on her cheek, "My life before I stumbled into Remington Steele's shoes is an open book now. All you have to do is ask."

"About anything?" she asked.

"Anything."

"All right. I'll answer YOUR question," she agreed. "If you'll tell me about- Anna Simpson." He saw her eyes move over his face, and didn't try to hide the pain that thinking about Anna brought to him. He'd misjudged her so badly. Thank goodness Laura had been here to help him, never once taking him to task or saying "I told you so" when she had discovered that Anna had intended for him to kill her first husband so she could marry another man. "If it's too difficult," she began, but Remington shook his head.

"No. I'll tell you all about it," he told her as the timer on the oven went off. "Over dinner, though. Would you mind taking the salad from the fridge and carrying it in?"

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As he took a bite of the lemon chicken, Remington tried to decide how best to tell Laura about his first meeting with Anna, about their trip to the South of France and the reasons for it. "We met in London," he told her, seeing her look up at him, as if surprised that he was giving her what she wanted. "I was at loose ends, having just finished a- job. Daniel was off with a friend, taking care of something they had been planning, leaving me alone in the flat that he and I shared whenever I was in town. I went out to sketch, needing to unwind, I suppose, and I saw her."

Laura put down her fork as he began to speak, watching his face as he told her about seeing Anna again later, an a restaurant. They had danced, and arranged to spend the next day together. It was several weeks later that she had told him that she had to go to the South of France to talk to an art collector about a painting he owned, and had asked him to go with her to help her authenticate the masterpiece- or prove it wasn't a forgery as she suspected.

But he had realized early into the meeting that she wasn't there for a magazine as she had told him- but to scam the old collector. He had gone along, helping her, even going to collect the money the man had paid them- but Anna hadn't been with him.

"Where was she?" Laura asked softly.

Remington picked up his glass. "Unknown to me, Raymond Marleau had arrived in town- intending to complete the insurance scam that they had set up. On the day we were supposed to deliver the 'real' painting to the collector and get out money for it, she left me a message that I should go on and continue with our plan, to get the plane tickets back to London, and she would meet me later."

"But she never came."

"No. I waited all night, cash and tickets in hand. A newsboy came by the next morning, selling the newspaper, and I bought one, thinking to read until she arrived. That's when I found the obituary. 'Anna Simpson Marleau, honeymooning with husband on private yacht, dead by drowning.' According to what little I was able to find out, she fell overboard and her husband was unable to find her body."

"So you went back to London alone."

"I realize now that what I felt for Anna wasn't love. Or maybe it was- after a fashion."

Laura reached across the table and stilled his hand on the stem of his glass. "You don't have to rationalize the way you felt, Remington," she told him. She looked at him. "The answer to your question is no."

Remington looked at her uncertainly. "No?"

"I will admit that I did TRY to convince Wilson to take a few chances," she told him, grinning. "I remember going to his office at the bank one day and - well, let's just say that he made it very clear that his office was NOT the place for that sort of thing. I mean, he had a reputation to maintain. What if Harcourt or someone were to walk in?" Remington grinned. "Right after that, we went to Acapulco- and you know the rest."

"Ah, the infamous fan dance at Pepe's," Remington recalled, his grin growing wider. "Big dance, small fans."

"Something like that. Wilson was shocked, worried that what I'd done would hurt his chances for a big promotion at the bank. We barely spoke to each other on the way home. I tried to tell him that Harcourt and everyone had been so drunk that they would never remember what had happened at Pepe's." Her eyes fell to the table. "I was wrong, I guess. I knew Wilson was angry, so I went out to get him something special- When I got home, his things were gone."

"And you didn't see him again until the day he came to the office," Remington said.

"Nothing. Not a letter, not a phone call or anything. He just- dropped out of my life."

"Didn't you try to get in touch with him?"

"I called the bank once- the woman who answered said he was in conference and couldn't be disturbed."

Now it was Remington's turn to offer comfort. He took her hand in his. "The man was blind as a bat, Laura, not to see the prize he walked away from. I know that I offer a prayer of thanks every day for my having found you."

Laura smiled at him. "You do?"

"Uh hmm. I'd spent my entire life looking for who I was, a place I could belong. The day I walked into that penthouse suite and into Remington Steele's shoes, I was home." He rose and came around the table, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. "I love you, Laura, and I don't ever plan to stop." His lips found hers.

When the kiss ended, Laura tried to pull him toward the bedroom, but Remington shook his head. "You go on in. I just want to clear the table, rinse the dishes."

"I could help," she offered.

"No, that's all right. I won't be a moment." He turned a picked up the plate before him, until she entered the bedroom. Then, with cat like reflexes, he followed, pausing in the doorway as Laura picked up the blue velvet box that was on the bed. She glanced up.

"What's this?"

"A little- early wedding present," he told her, remaining in the door.

Laura gasped as she saw the blue stones surrounded by diamonds on the bracelet. "Oh, my."

"It's not Royal Lavulite," he told her. "But they are sapphires and diamonds," he said, coming forward at last to take the bracelet from its white satin bed and place it on her wrist. "I'd planned to wait until Saturday to give them to you. But I thought you deserved them now."

Laura looked at the stones as they sparkled in the lamplight. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

"They couldn't possibly be more beautiful than you are," Remington said softly, his lips finding hers again. . .

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Saturday dawned fair and sunny, a perfect Southern California day, a perfect day for a wedding. Before a gathering of their family and friends, Laura and Remington pledged their undying devotion and love for one another, becoming husband and wife.

At the reception, Remington watched Laura talking to an old friend as he and Daniel shared a drink. "Well, Harry, my boy, you did it," Daniel commented with a smile. "I must say that for a time I wondered if I would ever see this day."

"You mean my marriage to Laura? Oh, it was in the cards, Daniel," Remington assured him, glancing at the shiny new wedding ring on his left hand. "Just needed to deal them out until Laura recognized that fact."

"At least you're happy. And that's what's important." Daniel's eyes glanced behind Remington. "Don't look now, Harry, but Murphy is heading this way."

Remington had managed to avoid Murphy the previous day, and had only spoken briefly to him earlier, before the wedding. Now, there was no way he could possibly keep from talking to Laura's ex-partner without creating a scene. Smiling, he turned to face the other man. "Murphy."

"Just wanted to offer my congratulations, Steele," Murphy said, holding out a hand. "I guess the best man won after all. Laura told me you and she discussed-."

Remington lifted a hand to silence him. "Water under the bridge, mate," he insisted with a smile that wouldn't quite reach his eyes. "Just remember that she's taken now, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry. I- uh- have something for you," he said, pulling an envelope from his pocket and handing it to Remington. "Another copy of the report I gave Laura that day."

He took it, handed it to Daniel. "Thank you." He lowered his voice. "But let me ask you, what could possibly have been in that report that was so damning, Murphy? There were no arrests, no facts linking me to any crimes."

"No," Murphy agreed. "But I guess I thought that the fact that you'd been questioned for suspicion of some of those things would be enough to make Laura think twice about letting you step into further into her life. I know now that it wouldn't have mattered. I want to give you that- and to offer to try and make it up to you."

"How?"

"By trying to find out your real name. I've already done some preliminary work on it-," he was saying as Daniel interrupted.

"Excuse me, Harry, but I believe Laura's trying to get your attention."

Remington glanced to where Laura was still talking to James Jarvis and Bernice. "She is?"

"Well, she was. Besides, my boy, it's almost time for you and she to leave if you're going to make that flight to Zurich."

"Mmm," Remington nodded in agreement. "I suppose you're right." He looked back to Murphy. "I'll be in touch after we get back, Murphy."

"Okay. Should I keep working on it?"

"By all means."

Daniel took Remington's arm. "Let's go, my boy. Don't want to be late for your honeymoon, now, do you?" He nodded in Murphy's direction and steered Remington to Laura, who was just turning away from Jarvis.

"Hey there," Remington said, reaching out to take Laura's hand in his. "Hello, Bernice," he said, but his eyes never left Laura.

"Hey there yourself," Laura replied.

"I'm sure you two won't miss me if I go talk to - never mind," Bernice finished. "Congratulations," she said, shaking her head as she turned away.

"Daniel's just reminded me that if we're going to make it to the airport we have to leave soon."

Laura nodded. "I guess we'd better go change clothes, then," she said, and Remington recognized the reckless look in her eyes before she took his arm. "This way."

Remington glanced over his shoulder at a beaming Daniel, who was joined by Mildred and Abigail on either side. "Won't be a moment," he said as Laura opened the door of the dressing room and pulled him inside behind her.

She was immediately in his arms, her lips finding his. Even having known she was going to do this, Remington found himself slightly off guard. "I've been wanting to do this all afternoon," Laura sighed, "Do you have any idea how incredibly sexy you are in a tuxedo, Mr. Steele?" she asked, sliding the jacket from his shoulders.

"Apparently not as sexy as I am without it, Mrs. Steele," he replied with a smile, his nimble fingers finding the tiny buttons that held Laura's gown in place. "You, however, are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life," he said, lowering his lips to her shoulder. He felt a shiver go through her as his lips caressed the sensitive flesh. "Sexy, unpredictable, loving." Their lips met again. "But- as much as I would love to consummate our marriage, we're going to miss our flight- and then the connection to Zurich. And that means it will be even longer before we're sitting before that roaring fire with hot-," he dropped a kiss onto her nose, "buttered," another kiss on her eyes, "rum. Just you and I in that chalet for an entire two weeks. No phones, no cases."

Laura sighed. "Sometimes, Mr. Steele, you can be TOO tempting."

He gave her satin covered hip a playful slap. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive," he whispered, then set about changing into another suit while Laura changed into something more suitable for traveling.


Laura threw the bouquet before she got into the limo, laughing when both her mother and Mildred caught it together. She noticed Remington's glance toward an uncertain Daniel, then ran toward the car as they were pelted by rice. Inside, they waved, watching as Daniel was again flanked by both women. Laura laughed again, sitting back as he rolled up the tinted window. "I think Daniel's going to regret having decided to stay on here until we get back."

"I doubt it. Daniel's very good at keeping his options open," Remington said, pulling her close to nuzzle her neck. His other hand reached for the privacy shield between the driver's compartment and them.

"It was nice of the Earl to let him have so much time off," Laura murmured, her mind not really on what she was saying. She was far too busy turning to slide into her husband's lap.

"Umm," Remington agreed, "Remind me to thank him the next time I see him," he said, then his lips were on hers, and everything else was forgotten: Daniel's problem about Mildred and Abigail, Murphy's attempts to trace Remington's roots, and Daniel's decision to stay in Los Angeles for awhile. The only thing that mattered to the two people in the back seat was each other.

And that was the way it should be.

The End
To be Continued in "Steele In The Know4"

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Original content © 1999 by Nancy Eddy