As the limo neared the Davenport estate, Daniel tried once more. "Why don't we wait until the copy of the Monet is ready?" he asked. "And then I'll return it to her- as you suggested, Harry."
"And give you time to slip out of town?" Remington asked, shaking his head. "Don't think so."
"But Harry-"
"Face it, Daniel," Laura said. "Daniel Chalmers needs to disappear for awhile. What better way than for you to become Harold Davenport again? Renew your roots, as it were?"
"My roots are in London," Daniel informed her, frowning as the car came to a stop before the house.
The door opened, and Effie appeared, a smile lighting her face as she saw Daniel. "Are you certain about that, Daniel?" Remington asked. "Just give it a chance. Who knows? You might even find that you like living here, helping Effie with Clyde's estate."
Daniel's eyes took on a decidedly avaricious gleam. "You hadn't thought about that, had you, Daniel?" Laura asked as Fred opened the door for them.
"No," he admitted. "But now that you mention it-" he smiled as he got out of the car to greet the woman. "Effie, my dear. I have wonderful news for you."
"You've found my Monet?" she asked as Daniel tucked her arm through his and turned toward the house.
"Yes- and you will have it back where it belongs tomorrow."
"Oh, that IS good news, Harold. I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you," she said with a suspicious sniffle.
Daniel handed her his handkerchief again. "There, there, my dear. Why don't we discuss it inside? Over a cup of tea?" Daniel said, smiling as he led her to the front door.
"What about Mr. Steele and Miss Holt?" Effie asked, looking back at the couple, who was standing beside the car. "Why don't you join us? After all, if it hadn't been for you, Miss Holt, I might never have found Harold again."
When Remington would have moved to join them, Laura held his arm to stop him. "Mr. Steele and I have a discussion of our own to attend to, Mrs. Davenport. Another time, perhaps?"
"Anytime you like," Effie assured her. "Anyone who's a friend of Harold's is welcome here."
"You're too kind, my dear," Daniel said, wiping a non existent tear from his cheek as he opened the front door for her. "Later, my boy," he said to Remington.
Remington looked at Laura. "About this- discussion, Laura," he began, but she merely smiled enigmatically and turned back to the limo, leaving Remington no option but to follow.
Once Fred closed the door and was behind the wheel, Laura said, "Mr. Steele's apartment, Fred. And take the long way."
Fred nodded as Laura's finger found the button to raise the privacy screen. "Uh, Laura- I thought we were going to talk?" Remington asked, eyeing her uncertainly. He couldn't quite recall having seen that particular look in her eyes before, wasn't entirely sure that he knew what it meant.
"Later, Mr. Steele," Laura told him. "First things first," she said, sliding her arms around his neck to pull his lips to hers for a long kiss. "Welcome home, Mr. Steele."
Remington pulled her closer, returning her kiss with one of his own. "When I got off of that plane and you weren't there- what ever possessed you to follow someone like Valmont alone?"
Laura slipped her hand inside his jacket. "Probably the same thing that made you face down a cold blooded hit man," she returned. "You took a big chance that he wouldn't just shoot you and then Daniel."
"He would have anyway, if I hadn't gotten him first," Remington said, his blue eyes revealing how uncomfortable he was with what he'd been forced to do. "Valmont wouldn't have let us walk away after he killed Daniel." His arms tightened around her. "I missed you, you know."
"And I missed you," Laura admitted in a soft voice, her eyes on the top button of his shirt.
"What was that? I'm not sure I heard you correctly."
"I missed you, too," she said again, looking at him this time. "I was afraid that-"
"That I wouldn't come back?" he finished when she stopped, and Laura nodded her head. Remington smiled, touching her cheek with a gentle finger. "I know how you feel. All the way home, I kept thinking how wonderful it would be to see you again- and then you weren't there-" a shudder when through him, and Laura pulled him closer.
"I know the feeling, Mr. Steele," she reminded him. "Only too well."
Remington brought her hand to his lips. "You called me 'Remington' while I was gone," he reminded her.
Laura smiled nervously, shrugging. "It's easier on the phone," she tried to explain. "Without you actually BEING here-"
"I see. Well, conducting a relationship over the telephone might be a bit tricky, if we want it to continue moving forward," he pointed out, then looked at her. "You DO want it to continue moving forward, don't you?"
Laura turned so that she was sitting on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. "What do you think, Remington?" she asked in a breathless voice as she loosened the top buttons of her blouse before pressing herself tightly against him. "Today made me fully realize that we might not have the time to take things slowly. Today might be all we have. And I, for once, don't want to waste it." Her lips found his, and Remington brought his hands to her waist, pulling her even closer.
"Neither do I, Laura," he assured her, as the limo began to slow. "I believe we've arrived at our destination."
"Tell him to drive around the block," Laura said.
Remington shook his head. "I think a moment like this deserves to be celebrated in a far worthier setting than the backseat of the agency limo," he told her, dropping a quick kiss onto her lips before lifting her from his lap just as Fred opened the door for them. "Thank you, Fred," Remington said, helping a slightly mussed Laura from the car as well.
"I don't think we'll be needing your services for the rest of the night, Fred," Laura informed the chauffeur as she sailed past him and toward the building.
"Night, Fred," Remington said, trying and then giving up his attempt to read the chauffer's impassive expression.
"Good night, Mr. Steele."
Once in the elevator, Remington pulled Laura into his arms again and gave her a long kiss. "You're not going to- change your mind again, are you, Laura? I mean-?"
Laura smiled at him, untying his tie. "Not this time," she promised him, pulling his head down with the tie to kiss him again as the elevator doors opened.
Remington's smile was more than a little bemused as he pulled the keys from his pocket to unlock the door, then stopped as he realized that it was open. "Good Lord."
Laura followed him into the apartment to survey the damage. "I forgot that Jonathan probably searched here for the Monet," she said as Remington closed the door behind him. "We can clean it up later," she told him, sliding her arms around his neck. "Why don't we go see what shape the bedroom's in?" Pulling his tie free, she dragged it behind her as she moved toward the other room. "Coming,- Remington?" she asked, her dark eyes filled with promise.
Remington dropped the ashtray he'd picked up onto the sofa and stepped over it to join her. "One can only hope, Laura," he commented, trying to ignore the mess that was his bedroom. The dresser drawers had been pulled out and dumped unceremoniously on the bed, which was missing its sheets. The closet doors were open, and his clothes were in a pile on the floor in front of them. "Bloody hell," Remington muttered, going to pick up his tux and examine it for damage. "Bugger didn't even have the decency to hang things back up."
"Remington-"
He turned to find Laura, wearing only her pale pink teddy, lounging on the bed, having pushed the pile of clothing that had been there to the floor. Remington dropped the tux. "Needed cleaning, anyway," he told her, taking a step toward the bed with a smile of anticipation, only to find himself distracted by a small photograph laying on the floor at his foot. "What's this?" he asked aloud, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Laura wrapped her arms around him from behind, nuzzling his neck, her hands working on the buttons of his shirt. "Who cares?" she asked. "We can talk about it later."
But Remington didn't move as he studied the photograph of a petite, smiling blonde standing between two men. Turning it over, he read the writing. "Clyde, Effie and me, April, 1945." Remington shook his head. "Daniel must have dropped it when the two of you were here."
"Probably," Laura agreed, not really concentrating on the photograph, but on freeing Remington's shirt from his pants.
He turned to show the photograph to Laura. "Look at this. That one's Daniel," he told her, pointing to the shorter of the two men. "Who does the other one look like?"
Laura sighed and peered at the picture in Remington's hand. "It looks a little like- you, I suppose."
"It looks a LOT like me, Laura," Remington corrected her. "Effie Davenport said that I was the image of her late husband," Remington told Laura. "Not just once, but several times. Yet Daniel said that there were only- similarities. But this picture would tend to lend credence to Effie's statement, wouldn't it?" He stood up and grabbed his jacket.
"Where are you going?" Laura asked, watching as he tried to tuck in his shirt.
"To talk to Effie Davenport- and Daniel," he told her, grabbing his keys.
Laura sighed again and grabbed her clothes. "Wait for me!" she yelled after him, scrambling to put on her skirt as she ran to catch him.
"What do you think you're going to find out?" Laura asked as Remington steered the Auburn through the traffic laden streets. "So you look like Daniel's brother. He and Effie didn't have any children. The report that Mildred did on them revealed that much."
"But Clyde might have had an illegitimate child, mightn't he? He spent a lot of time in Europe and the British Isles on business. That would explain Daniel's taking care of me once he found me in Brixton, wouldn't it?"
"Well, I'm sure that if Clyde DID have an extramarital fling, Effie would be the LAST person to know about it," Laura insisted, diverting the energy from her sexual frustration toward the mystery that Remington had discovered.
"But he might have confided in Daniel," Remington told her. "When they met in London at Valmont's. Since Daniel was there, it's possible that Clyde asked him to keep an eye out for his son, isn't it?"
Laura looked at the picture again. The way Clyde's arm was around Effie, the look of happiness on their faces, she doubted that Remington's scenario was the truth. "What if-" she stopped, shaking her head.
"What? Go on," Remington prompted as he braked behind a slower car as it changed lanes and blew the horn. "Bloody fool! You've got a turn signal!" he muttered.
"Nothing. Just a thought. Probably not important."
"Laura-this is possibly my past we're talking about here. EVERYTHING'S important."
"If I remember the report, Clyde was involved in a very high profile case in the early fifties. He and Effie couldn't make the move without a reporter following them. Mildred mentioned that the Davenports had gone to Europe every year except for those two."
"Then who else is there?" Remington asked. "I mean, if Clyde wasn't in the British Isles during that time, then-" His eyes widened as he realized what Laura was trying NOT to say. "Daniel? You're saying that you think that- Daniel?"
"It makes sense. He WAS in England- and possibly Ireland during that time," she pointed out. "We KNOW he was there five years later, when Clyde asked him to steal the Monet from Valmont."
"A dark period in his life that was best left unopened, isn't that what he said?" Remington recalled, his face setting in anger.
Laura watched a muscle twitch in his cheek- something that only happened when he was VERY angry, and searched for a way to douse some of that fury before they reached Effie Davenport's house. Sliding across the seat as much as she could with a gear shift in the floorboard, Laura placed her hand on his thigh and squeezed gently, then shivered slightly. "I'm glad you left the top up," she told him. "It's getting a bit cool now that the sun's going down." He didn't respond to her words, merely gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as he wove through traffic. Laura's fingers fluttered ever closer to their goal, finally touching him gently.
Remington braked too hard at the contact, and glanced at her. "Laura-"
"Just drive, Remington," she said softly, "Leave everything else- in my hands," she told him with a smile as her fingers found the zipper of his slacks.
"This isn't a good idea, Laura," Remington began, but Laura ignored his attempt to push her hand away, and placed his back on the wheel.
"I think it's an EXCELLENT idea," she replied as her hand touched his warm flesh, and she bent closer, her warm breath on his penis as she pulled the foreskin back causing him to gasp.
"Umm, Laura," Remington said, trying to concentrate on the traffic. It was an impossible task, and when his glazed eyes cleared a bit, he noticed a sign and turned off of the road, barely managing to stop the car in a secluded glade before he was totally unable to think at all. "Oh, God, Laura," he murmured, his hands locked on the steering wheel of the Auburn as she brought him to a powerful release with her mouth and hands. "Oh, yes. Yes. Oh," he sighed, sitting back as she raised up in the seat, her lips meeting his in a kiss. Remington felt her tongue exploring his mouth, and returned the favor, tasting his own essence as one of her hands found the lever to release the seat, pushing it back from the steering wheel. Laura quickly finished unfastening his trousers, and helped him push them down to his ankles. He heard a soft "snap" and then she straddled him as she had in the limo, only this time, there was nothing between their most private, intimate parts.
Laura lowered herself onto Remington slowly, adjusting to his size, and sighed in satisfaction when his penis was fully inside her. She kissed Remington slowly, letting it build as she began to ride up and down. Remington's hands found her waist, and lifted her, taking some of the weight from her knees. "Oh, yes," she sighed as he moved one hand to her clit, rubbing it. "Yes. Oh, Remington, YES!" she cried out, and began to shake, her back arching, her head back, before collapsing against him.
Remington's hips lifted as he pulled Laura tightly to him as he came again, panting her name over and over again, like a prayer. "LauraloveLauraloveLauralove..." He held her afterward, rubbing her back. "Thank you," he said. "It's not nearly enough-"
Laura looked up at him with a smile. "I'd always wondered how anyone made love in this car, hadn't you?"
"I guess we found out," Remington said, returning her smile and kissing her again.
Laura looked around. "Where are we?"
"McCullum Park," he told her, and they both started to laugh. "Rather appropriate, wouldn't you say?"
"A worthy setting, Remington," Laura agreed, "Absolutely perfect," she added, wanting to cuddle against him like this for a little longer. But Remington tilted her head back.
"The thank you was for more than-" he gestured at the two of them, their "connection". "It was for keeping me from doing something I'd regret later." He kissed her again. "Come on." He helped her back into her seat, then pulled his trousers up and fastened them while she straightened her own clothing and ran a hand through her hair.
"Where are we going?"
"To see Daniel," he told her as he started the engine and put the Auburn into reverse.
To Be Continued---