Steele Romance

Part 3

By Nancy Eddy

When Laura came downstairs the next morning, it was to find Daniel already in the dining room, pouring a cup of coffee. "Good morning, Laura," he said brightly. "Coffee?"
"Thank you," she said, looking over the buffet.
"Help yourself to whatever you like. If there's something you don't see here, I'm sure Cook would be more than glad to prepare it-"
Laura picked up a plate and put two fresh croissant rolls on it. "This will be fine. I'm not much for breakfast." She sat down across from him.
"Did you enjoy your outing with Harry last night?"
Laura looked apologetic. "Yes. I'm sorry, Daniel. I never thought that we might disturb you -"
"You didn't. I wasn't asleep. Where did you go?"
"Piccadilly," she said, her eyes glowing.
'"I might have known. Harry's always had a fondness for the place. Never could understand it myself."
"I guess Harry's not down yet."
Daniel picked up his cup. "No. Not much of an early riser. At least not since I met him."
"He told me about that. Did he really pick your pocket?"
He smiled at the memory of that day. "He did. And very well, I might add. I saw he had talent from the first moment I laid eyes on him."
"Why take him in? Why not just leave him to his life? I'm sure you met others like Harry -why him?"
"There's never been anyone else quite like Harry, Laura. And there never will be, I'll wager." He met her look squarely. "Would you have preferred that I have left him there in Brixton to fall in with the gangs and drugs that would have ultimately killed him?"
"Of course not. I guess just don't understand why you felt that you had to teach him how to be a crook."
"Such a harsh word, Laura," Daniel said. "I simply wanted to give him the necessary tools he needed to survive. The only tools that I had to give him. Consider it the passing on of knowledge from one generation to the next."
Laura watched him over her cup as she lifted it. "Like father to son?" she asked, eyes narrowing as Daniel paused. It wasn't much of a pause, and if Laura hadn't been watching, she would never have noticed it.
He laughed softly, recovering immediately. "I shouldn't mention such a thing to Harry, Laura. He has no good reason to remember his father with any kindness."
"He told me about that," Laura admitted.
Daniel put down his cup in surprise. "He- told you?" Harry NEVER talked about his parents. "What did he say - exactly?"
Laura shrugged, tearing apart the flaky roll before her. "That he thinks he was born in Ireland, that his mother likely died when he was born or soon after, that he was raised in foster homes- and that he's never met his father and had no desire to do so."
Daniel shook his head. "You learned more last evening, Laura, than I did in six weeks. He came up with a different story every day, it seemed, usually something out of a movie he'd seen - I suppose he told you about that, as well?"
"About the movie house? He did."
Daniel lifted his cup. "To you, my dear. You're simply amazing. To have gained Harry's trust so quickly is no small feat. I stand in awe." He was taking a drink of the dark, bracing liquid when Harry entered the room.
"Good morning, Daniel." He smiled at Laura. "Did you sleep well?"
"Wonderfully," she told him, watching as he began piling a plate with food. Daniel poured another cup of coffee for himself and one for Harry.
"You're up early this morning," Daniel commented, watching as Harry began to eat.
"I promised Laura that we would go horseback riding this morning," he said between mouthfuls.
"I see. And where are you going from there?"
"It's up to Laura," Harry said.
Laura smiled. "You're the tour guide, Harry."
"And you couldn't have a better one," Daniel pointed out. "Make sure you take her to see the Crown Jewels, Harry. No one should ever visit London without seeing them."
Laura's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Do you think he can be trusted around them?"
Harry's eyes widened as Daniel laughed. "I think so, Laura. He gave up on any plans to steal them long ago, isn't that right, my boy?"
Harry nodded a bit sheepishly as Laura turned a disbelieving gaze on him. "I'll explain another time," he promised.
Daniel rose from his chair, folding his napkin neatly beside the plate. "Well, I have some business to attend to - you two enjoy your day." He left the room.
Harry put his napkin on the table. "I'll be right back," he told Laura, following Daniel out, catching him at the open door. "Daniel-"
"Yes, Harry?"
"You're not- planning anything, are you? I mean, with Laura here- "
Daniel laughed softly, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry. I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize your budding relationship with Laura. But I will warn you - if you let this chance get away, then I'm just liable to make Laura Holt forget all about you." He smiled. "Have fun, my boy." He closed the door and left, leaving a surprised Harry standing there.
"Harry?" He turned to find Laura in the doorway of the dining room.
"Coming." He put an arm around her as they returned to the dining room, still wondering what was going on. It wasn't like Daniel to accept someone so easily. Especially someone not in the life. "What was that all about?" Laura asked as Harry sat back down.
"Nothing. Just needed to check on something," he told her. "Let me finish my breakfast and we'll go for that ride."
"What was that about the Crown Jewels?" she asked, refilling both of their coffee cups.
"Right after my first heist - I guess I was about sixteen or so, Daniel took me to see the Crown Jewels. I spent the next six months trying to come up with a foolproof plan to steal them. And I almost had it- then Daniel reminded me that I wouldn't be able to unload them anywhere - so they were basically worthless to me- unless I returned them for a finder's fee. I ultimately decided that it wasn't worth the risk."
"Good thing. They would have locked you up for the rest of your life."
"Exactly," he agreed, his eyes shining with humor. "But I still dream about it sometimes, wonder what it would have been like to have pulled it off -"
"Harry -"
He reached out to take her hand. "I'm only joking. I'm learning to like that little frown you get when you disapprove of something."
"I don't frown."
He put down his napkin. "Yes, you do," he said, pulling out her chair. "Let's go find a horse for you. How well do you ride?"
"Moderately well, I suppose."
He pulled her arm through his. "I have the perfect mount for you, then. Come along."

Harry showed her the boundary of Daniel's property as they rode. "Exactly how much land does he have here?"
"Around a hundred acres, I think. Give or take." He pulled his horse up beside hers, reaching over to grab her reins as well. "Feel comfortable on the horse now?"
Laura nodded, curious about the light in his blue eyes. "I think so. Why do you ask?"
"How about racing back to the stable?"
She smiled, examining the long legged black stallion on which he rode, silently comparing it to the roan mare that she had decided on. In a fair contest, she didn't stand a chance. But if she could get a head start- "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Harry," she told him, "What do I get if I win?"
"I think we could come up with something-" he said, smiling, leaning closer to her.
"And if you win?"
He leaned nearer, and Laura let him think she was going to meet him halfway, then grabbed her horse's reins and kicked the animal into a hard gallop.
Harry righted himself on his own horse. He laughter flowed over him as she opened an impressive lead. "You little minx-" he muttered, smiling, urging his own mount to follow.
He caught up with her just as they reached the stable yard, barely edging past her . He dismounted and was ready to lift her from the saddle when she brought the horse to a stop. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glowing as she looked up at him. "I guess I lost," she said breathlessly.
Harry shook his head as he kept his hands on her waist. "I think we both won, Laura," he told her, lowering his lips to hers. He pulled her head to his chest, holding her tightly. "What are you doing to me, Laura Holt?"
She managed to smile up at him. "I don't know. But when you find out, would you tell me? Because I think you're doing the same thing to me."
He smiled back, then swallowed her soft laughter with his mouth on hers again. "I'm almost tempted to say to tell with the tour, that we'll just spend the day here -" He brushed her cheek with his fingers. "Do you like picnics, Laura?"
"I love picnics," she told him.
"Good. So do I. Let's go start our tour and then I know the perfect place for us to have lunch."

In the hall between their rooms, Harry hesitated. "Can you be ready in- thirty minutes?" he asked uncertainly.
"Make it fifteen," Laura told him.
"Fifteen, then," Harry nodded, watching her door close. Fifteen minutes? Most of the women he'd known would have asked for at least an hour if not considerably more. Harry shook his head and went into his room. After a quick shower, he was getting some clothes out when his eye fell upon the camera case in his closet. Every tourist needed pictures of their trip to London, he decided, lifting the bag onto the bed and inspecting the equipment.
Laura was already in the drawing room when he came downstairs, and she looked surprised to see the camera bag on his shoulder. "A camera?"
"Thought you might like some pictures to take home with you. Prove to Bernice and Murphy that I didn't keep you a prisoner here during your visit."
"I don't think Bernice would think that," Laura assured him.
"But Murphy would. Shall we go? London awaits."

He took her to Buckingham Palace, where he snapped endless pictures of her trying to make one of the red coated palace guards respond to her. He was seeing a new Laura Holt, one not afraid to have some fun, to let her hair down, as it it were. And he liked what he was seeing. At last, after another photograph session at St. Mark's, he began to think about buying some more film. He had already used up two full rolls and it was only lunchtime.
With that thought, he turned the car toward a small restaurant and went inside, returning a few minutes later with a wicker picnic hamper, much to Laura's delighted surprise. She watched him put the hamper into the trunk atop a blanket. "When did you order that?" she asked as he got behind the wheel again.
"When we went back to the house after our ride," he told her. "I know the owner of the restaurant - a Frenchman who decided it was safer to cook for other people than to try and scam them out of the money."
"I see. And where are we going to have our picnic?" she wanted to know.
"Just wait," he suggested. He didn't drive very far before he saw Laura smile.
"What a lovely park," she commented, then saw the sign. "Hyde Park?" He brought the car into a parking space and turned to look at her. "We're going to picnic in Hyde Park?"
"It's still a nice place- as long as you come in the daytime. At night, it's the last place you want to be." He sounded like he was speaking from experience, Laura thought, getting out of the car to join him at the trunk. He lifted out the hamper. "Could you get the blanket?" he asked.
They went through the park to a small, sheltered little glade, where Harry put the hamper down and reached for the blanket, frowning as something fell to the ground as he opened the square of fabric.
"What's this?" Laura asked, picking up the dogeared tablet before Harry could.
"It's nothing," he said, reaching out to try and grab it, but she kept it out of his reach, lifting the cover back
"Nothing? Harry, did you draw these?" she asked, looking at the sketches on the pages.
"Just a hobby," he told her, continuing to spread the blanket, then laid out the food as she continued to look at his work. He was opening a bottle of wine when she finally sat down.
"I had no idea you were so talented, Harry," she said, then went still as Harry's eyes met hers.
"You've no idea HOW talented I am, Laura," he said softly, pouring a glass of wine for each of them.
"I meant- " she sipped the wine, hoping that he wouldn't notice that she was blushing. She held up the book. "This. Have you ever tried to paint-"
"You look adorable when you blush. Did you know that?"
Laura closed her eyes,then opened them to flip another few pages. She shook her head. "That's me. You drew me?"
He shrugged, laying back on one arm. "Last week. When I couldn't concentrate on anything else, I came here, walked, sketched. And found myself doing that one when I wasn't paying attention, just letting my mind wander." His eyes were on her, wondering what she was thinking. "Sounds a bit corny, I suppose-"
"Not at all," Laura assured him, still trying not to look him in the eye. "What's for lunch?"
Harry smiled, well aware of her tactic. Well, he could afford to let her get away with it this time, he decided, handing her the plate of food with a slight flourish.

After the meal, Laura packed the remnants of their picnic back into the hamper, then watched as Harry picked up the tablet to look at the drawings. When he finally took the pencil from the wire at the top and found a clean page, she smiled, sitting back to watch him working. Before long, she laid back to close her eyes against the sun. Next time she would bring a book to read, she told herself, then frowned as she wondered when the next time would be.
"Why the frown?" Harry asked.
She opened her eyes to find him leaning on one arm, watching her. "Nothing, really. Just thinking about how much I liked this-"
"And that caused you to frown?" he questioned.
"No, of course not," she insisted, raising a hand to trace his chin. "I was just wondering how long it would be before we could have another picnic. And that I need to bring a book with me when it happens."
Harry captured her hand, bringing it to his lips. "Maybe tomorrow," he suggested, bending to lower his head toward hers, only to sigh as a soccer ball came to rest between them. He looked in the direction that the ball had come from, watching as a little boy came running toward them. Harry sat up, as did Laura.
"Excuse me, may I please have my football?" the child asked. He couldn't have been more than six, Laura guessed, but his accent made him sound much older.
Harry tossed the ball onto the grass, where the boy kicked it between his feet back to where he and his friends had been playing. "I give up," he told Laura, shaking his head. He turned to move the hamper off of the blanket and heard a noise behind him. Laura was laughing, trying to do it quietly, but in the process, she had fallen onto her back once again. "You think it's funny, do you?" Harry asked, laying beside her again. "Every time we kiss, it seems something interrupts us."
"Not last night," she reminded him. "Or this morning -"
"Or now," Harry finished, completing the movement he'd begun earlier to press his lips to hers. Laura's laughter stilled and she lifted her arms around him. He looked up, halfway expecting something to happen. Nothing did. "Well, what do you know? Another one without an interruption." Laura's laughter bubbled to the surface again, and this time, Harry joined her.

As they left the restaurant after returning the hamper, Harry asked, "Where to now?"
"How about- Brixton?" she suggested slowly, watching his reaction. "You DID say that you needed to go back there and find out about the old man who ran the theatre, remember?"
"Yes, but-"
"You didn't expect to have company when you did it," she suggested.
"That, and- it's not a very nice part of London, Laura. Not the usual tourist stop, if you take my meaning."
"Harry, I'm a private detective, remember? I can take care of myself."
"But you shouldn't have to. Not on holiday." He looked at her. "You're not going to let up about it, are you?"
"Nope."
"Alright. But I've warned you."
"Fair enough," she said, sitting back as he drove the red car down the avenue a bit faster than he had earlier. She could tell that he was angry, but Laura refused to back down. Something told her that he needed this visit to Brixton.

She knew the moment they entered the area known as Brixton. It reminded Laura of similar areas in Los Angeles - areas which she tended to avoid if at all possible. Too many people, not enough work, too many drugs, too much violence. They drove past a storefront at which a man was trying to board up a plate glass window, and Laura felt herself shudder. Harry glanced at her, shaking his head. "Hard to believe that I ever made it out of this place," he said. "And I'm grateful every day that I did."
Laura reached over to touch his arm. "So am I." He brought the car to a stop before an empty, to all appearances, abandoned old movie house. There was a faded, tattered sign indicating that "It's A Wonderful Life" was the current feature, along with "The Man Who Knew Too Much". "So this is it?" she asked as Harry sat there, looking ruefully at the old building.
"Sal's probably dead," he said. "See that window up there, third level?"
Laura's eyes searched the building for a moment before she found the tiny little window he was talking about. "I see it."
"The room where I stayed was just behind that. Over the projection booth."
"Where did the owner live?"
Harry looked down the street. "In those apartments down there. At least, they USED to be apartments," he told her, looking at the barred windows and graffiti on the building. "Now they look more like a war zone."
"We could ask around, see if anyone knows anything about him," Laura suggested.
Harry shook his head. "I can find out another way. No need to take that kind of risk."
Laura looked back up at the movie house. "I wonder if we could get inside?"
He smiled then. "There used to be a way - it's been years, though. Sal probably sealed it up after I left. If he didn't, then someone else might've gotten in there - and the place is probably a shooting gallery if that happened."
"Doesn't look as if anyone's been in there in ages," she told him. She turned teasing eyes on him. "Wouldn't you like to see the place again?"
Harry finally brought his eyes down to her. "Not really - "
"Help! Someone help me! My purse!" Laura was out of the car in a heartbeat, running toward the alley where the young man who had cut the old woman's purse strap was heading.
"Laura!" Harry called out, then was following her. If she thought he was going to let her run down a blind alley, chasing a cut purse, she was crazy. And SHE didn't even know it was a blind alley.
He caught up with Laura as the mugger brandished a knife threateningly in her direction. It wasn't much of a knife, Harry thought. Wouldn't do much real damage. But it was enough to make him wish that he still carried a blade. If he'd known he would be coming here today, he would have. Stepping between her and the frightened, desperate young man, he said, "Get back, Laura."
"Harry-"
He didn't turn to look at her. He kept his eyes focused on the knife wielding man. "I said get back." Now that he'd had a chance to get closer, Harry could see that the mugger wasn't even a man. Couldn't be more than fifteen- maybe sixteen years old, Harry guessed. "Now, take it easy, mate. We don't want anyone getting hurt - just drop the purse and you can go."
"No coppers?" the boy asked.
"No coppers," Harry assured him, slipping back into street slang.
"You'd just let me go?" he asked, his dark eyes narrowing his his dirty face.
"All you have to do is drop the purse and put the knife in your pocket." He jerked his head toward the street. "Better make it up quick, mate. Before someone else sets the coppers on you."
Without warning, the purse was flung toward Harry's head, and he ducked in time to see the knife being hastily stuffed into a pocket, still held tightly, before the young man ran past Laura and Harry to vanish around the corner. Harry bent and retrieved the purse, holding it out to Laura.
"Here you go."
She didn't take it, simply shook her head. "You got it back," she said. "I think you should return it."
"Laura-" he began, but she grabbed his arm to lead him from the dim alley back to the brightly lit street where the woman was waiting beside his car, wringing her hands.
She took the purse gratefully, her hands shaking. "Oh, thank you, young man," the soft Irish lilt of her voice causing Harry to smile. She opened the money purse and sighed with relief, satisfied, before looking at him again. "I know you. Those eyes- never seen any like them."
Harry examined her lined face, then grinned in recognition. "Maudie?"
Her own face split in a wide smile as well as Harry drew her into his arms for a hug. "The boy from the movie house," she recalled at last.
Harry stood for a moment, staring down at her face. "Maudie." Seeing Laura's curious smile, he grinned. "Laura, this is Maudie. She used to sell tickets and popcorn at the movie theatre."
The woman stepped back to take a look at him. "Looks like Sal was right," she said cryptically. "You look like that smooth talker that you left here with. Made something of yourself, apparently."
"Well-" Harry said, a bit uncomfortable with the subject, and was grateful when she took his arm.
"Can I offer you both tea? T'thank you for rescuing my pocketbook."
"Laura?" Harry asked.
"Sounds lovely," Laura told him, following them to the barred apartment building that Harry had pointed out earlier.

Maudie's small flat was extremely tidy, the walls decorated with old movie posters. She indicated the threadbare sofa. "Just give me a sec t'put th'kettle on."
Laura sat down as Harry examined the photos on the table. "She seems very nice," Laura commented.
"I didn't think she'd still be here," he admitted as Maudie returned.
"And where else would I be, lad?" she asked, letting him help her to a chair. "Lived in this flat most of my adult life. Nowhere else t'go." She smiled at Laura. "Are you his wife, dearie?"
Laura gave Harry an embarrassed glance. "No. We're - friends." She winced, knowing how far that fell short of their relationship.
"Oh," Maudie said, reaching out to pat Laura's hand. "I understand, lass. It was like that with me and Sal, too." She looked up as the kettle began its insistent summons.
Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't stir yourself, Maudie. I'll get it. If you still keep things in the same place-"
"More or less," she told him. "I don't doubt you'll find whatever y'need. Always did." She smiled at Laura. "Such a good lad. Always was. Even when he was scrawny little thing. Never failed t'help me carrying things. Came up here for tea quite a bit. Glad t'see that he filled out so nicely."
Laura smiled in agreement, looking at the photos that had grabbed Harry's attention. She picked up one of a young boy and a tall, white haired man. "Is this -"
"It is. Taken just before he left the last time." She looked up as harry returned with the tray and set it down before her. "Thank you." She poured three cups. "So. Did y'ever settle on one name, lad?" She smiled at Laura. "Never saw the likes of one so ready with a new name. And always from t'movies, it was."
Harry scratched his ear, only to turn his gaze on Laura as she answered. "Remington Harrison Steele," she said, smiling at Harry's lifted brow. "His friends call him Harry."
Maudie sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Remington Harrison Steele, is it? Grand name, lad. Sal always said you had what it took to get out of this place, turn your life around."
Harry put his cup on the table. "What happened to Sal, Maudie?"
Her blue eyes became damp. "Someone surprised him at the movie house one Friday night while he was countin' receipts. Put a knife into him. Cut him up real bad before, though."
Harry rose and went to the windows, looking down on the dirty street below. "Who did it?"
"No one ever found out."
"When did it happen?"
"Not too long after you left the last time, lad." Harry returned to put an arm around her stooped shoulders. "I'm sorry, Maudie. If I'd know-"
She patted his hand. "I know. And so did he, I think. No regrets, lad. Sal lived a long, happy life, doing what he liked to do, helping those he could along the way. No one could ask for more than that."
Laura wiped a bit of moisture from her eye. "You're right, Maudie. No one could."

They stayed another hour as Harry tried his best to charm Maudie into letting him find her a flat in a better part of town. She stubbornly refused to consider the idea, insisting that she was where she wanted to be. As they left, Laura saw Harry press some money into the gnarled hands. "Take care, Maudie."
"I will, lad. You don't be worrying about me. You see to that young woman. Got a good head on her shoulders, that one has."
She gave Laura a hug, then Harry waited to hear her lock and bolt the door before leading Laura back to the car. He started the engine before giving her a sideways look. "Remington- Harrison - Steele, Laura?"
She shrugged, her smile void of any guilt. "She needed a name. And to know that you were successful. It sounded good to me. It DID sound impressive, you have to admit."
Harry smiled and shook his head. "Let's go back to the house and change before dinner, shall we? And it will give me a chance to develop some to the photographs we took earlier."
"You -"
"Darkroom in the basement," he told her.
"Oh."
Harry reached out and took her hand. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For insisting that we come to Brixton this afternoon."
Laura couldn't meet his eyes. There was too much in them. "Where are we going for dinner?" she asked.
He let her hand go and put the car into gear. "I think you'll like it. Dinner and dancing- and after that-"
"After that?" Laura asked when he paused, a bit uncertain.
"I suppose you don't approve of gambling, either, do you?"
"I don't know. I've never really - I mean, I went to Las Vegas last year on a case, but I never even set foot in a casino-"
Harry shook his head. "Willing to give it a try?" he asked, smiling at her.
She shrugged. "Why not?" she asked, returning his smile.

She knew what it felt like to dance with him. After all, they HAD danced in Los Angeles. But she had been so furious at his deception that she hadn't allowed herself to think about how nice it felt. Even the night before, in Piccadilly, Laura hadn't really paid full attention.
But as they moved across the dance floor, she couldn't help but notice how right his arms felt around her. Just as she couldn't help but notice the envious looks she was receiving from almost every other female in the room. "I think I'd better watch my back around here," she commented softly.
"Why?" he asked, looking down at her.
"To make sure that none of the other women here stick a knife in it."
He frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"You haven't noticed the looks I've been getting all evening?"
He shook his head, his blue eyes serious. "Can't say as I have. I haven't looked at anyone except you all evening."
And he hadn't, Laura, realized. And there were far more sophisticated, beautiful women in the room. She took a deep breath. "Take my word for it."
"We'll leave for the club after this dance, then," he decided.

Everyone seemed to know Harry on sight, Laura thought as they moved through the crowded room. A couple of women approached, but Harry never acknowledged them as he led Laura around, explaining the various games of chance. "I won't even begin to try and explain Baccarat," he told her, after they watched a few hands. He led her to the black jack table, then to the roulette wheel. Giving her some chips, he told her what to do, then watched as she placed a bet - and won. An old friend approached, and glancing at Laura, Harry moved away a space. "Daniel told me that you had a friend in town," Charlie said. "Real looker."
"A real lady, Charlie," Harry said.
"Think you could get away to let me try and recoup some of my last losses at Baccarat?"
Laura was still winning. Harry turned back to her, not wanting to break her concentration. "I'll be over at the Baccarat table, Laura. Let me know if you need anymore chips."
"I will," she said, not really listening to him. Harry sighed and moved to follow Charlie.

Twenty minutes later, he rose from the table apologetically. "Sorry, but I guess my luck's still holding, Charlie," he said. "Seems to have taken a turn upward since I met Laura."
"If so, my friend, I'd make damn sure I didn't let the lady out of my sight." He smiled. "Guess I'll head home. Tapped out." His head turned as there was a shriek from the roulette wheel. "And sounds like your lady might be as well."
Harry moved toward the table, pushing his way though the crowd that had gathered, prepared to offer Laura some sympathy. Instead, he found her laughing as she told the croupier to let the stack of chips ride once again. Harry watched, wide eyed, as the wheel came to a stop on her number and the chips rose higher. He looked at the croupier. "How much has she got there?"
"A little over a thousand pounds, sir."
"A- thous-" He grabbed Laura as she would have let it ride again. "The lady retires."
"Harry-"
"She retires," Harry insisted, watching the dealer pick up the chips to carry them to the window.
"I was winning, Harry," she insisted, trying to free herself.
"Believe me, Laura, you'll thank me for this someday," he muttered, lifting her onto his shoulder to carry her to the window.
"No!" There was a ruffle of laughter among the onlookers as Laura tried to convince Harry to let her go back to the table.
When he put her back on her feet to collect the money, he found himself forced to keep an arm around her waist. Talk about beginner's luck! He'd given her a little over fifty pounds in chips - and he was holding over a thousand pounds in his hand. "Time to leave, Laura," he told her, dragging her out of the club.

Once in the fresh air, Laura began to regain her sense of balance. "Sorry," she said at last. "I don't know what happened to me back there-"
"Happens to a lot of people when they first gamble and hit a streak. Just remind me to keep you away from Monte Carlo, okay?" he asked with a smile.
Laura smiled back. "I must have been a sight in there. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you around your friends-"
"You could never embarrass me, Laura," Harry assured her. He brought some money from his pocket. "This is yours."
"But- it was your money -"
"Only fifty pounds of it. The rest you won. Buy yourself something outrageous with it," he suggested.

He opened the door of the house and let her inside. "How about a nightcap?" he suggested. She nodded and went into the drawing room with him, sitting down as he poured two drinks. "You've gotten awfully quiet," he said as he sat down."
"Just thinking about today. I had fun, Harry."
"I'm glad. Would you like to see some of the pictures?"
"Are they ready?"
"I left them drying. I won't be a moment." He put down his drink and left the room, returning quickly carrying several photographs. "Here we go." He spread them on the table for her to look at.
"Sketching, photography - what other hidden talents do you have, Harry?" she asked, still looking at the pictures.
Harry put an arm around her, nuzzling her neck. "I'd be glad to show you PRECISELY, Laura. All you have to do is say yes."
She forced herself to keep breathing. "Where is the one that we had that cabby take of the two of us?"
He found it and gave it to her. They had been standing before Trafalgar Square, and Laura had insisted that her pictures wouldn't be complete without at least one of him. So Harry had asked a passing cabby to snap the photo. "I made two copies of that one," he told her. "That one's yours. In fact, I made two copies of all of them. Except this one-" He pulled the last photo out and handed it to her.
Laura looked at the only one she'd taken - this one of Harry when he hadn't known she was shooting him. "Thank you, Harry."
"Just don't throw darts at it, okay?"
"Never," she promised, picking up the pictures to put them into a neat pile as Harry rose and went to turn off the light and close the door. Laura smiled as she heard him turn the lock.
He came back to pull her against him. "Now. Do you often go berserk like you did this evening, or was it just the thrill of winning?"
"I used to. I don't anymore, though."
"Why not?"
"The last time I did, it cost me a relationship that I'd invested a lot of time in."
"The one you mentioned last night? Wilson?"
She nodded. "I told you he was a banker- Well, I was a bit of a free spirit in those days - always looking for a way to surprise people, shock them a little-"
"What happened to change that?"
"There was a banker's conference in Acapulco," she told him, her voice low, so low that he had to dip his head to hear her words. "Wilson asked me to go along- we'd been down there a couple of times - Some of the other bankers decided to party at a nightclub called Pepe's."
"I've heard of it," he said.
"They had too much to drink, I had too much to drink, I guess- the next thing I knew I was doing a fan dance on the bar."
"A FAN dance?" Harry asked, not certain he heard right.
"I thought it was a kick. Here were all these staid, conservative bankers going crazy over a silly fan dance."
"But Wilson wasn't pleased?"
"He didn't really say anything about it. I knew he was worried about going to work the next Monday - I assured him that they had all been so drunk that none of them would remember anything."
"But you were wrong."
She nodded. "I guess so. I went shopping that afternoon, and when I got back to the apartment, he was gone. His clothes, everything. And no note."
"He just- walked out without any explanation?"
"I should have seen it coming. He was always talking about how much he liked the way I was- but he also insisted that I had to be careful, to remember his position -"
"And you think it was your fan dance that sent him running?"
"It MUST have been," Laura said. "Embarrassing him in front of his friends and co workers-"
Harry understood her silence on the way home now. She'd been afraid that he would react the same way as Wilson had. Pulling her into his arms, Harry held her tightly. "I told you that nothing you could do would ever embarrass me, and I meant it. I loved seeing that side of you. Just like at the palace today when you were trying to get that guard to smile - the man can't be human if he could resist that sprite that put on such a performance for his benefit. Keeping such a tight control on your emotions isn't the answer either, you know."
"What am I supposed to do, then?"
"Be yourself."
"And what if you don't like the real Laura Holt?"
"I'm sure I'll love her," Harry answered, his head on hers. He kissed the top of her head, then rose to refill their drinks.
"What about you?" Laura asked, watching him in the flickering firelight. "Have you ever been that- involved with anyone else?" She thought she saw a flicker of pain cloud his face as he came back to her. She chewed on her lower lip when he remained silent for a long while. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked -"
"It's all right," he said softly, and now it was Laura's turn to move closer to hear him. "A few years ago, I met a woman- her name was Anna. She was beautiful, and she knew how to work a con, or steal a painting - we planned to steal a necklace off a yacht - things went wrong - Anna fell overboard. I never saw her again."
Laura sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said, knowing it wasn't enough. "You must have been devastated-"
"The only good thing it brought about was to bring me back home to Daniel -" He took a drink and saw her confusion. "Daniel didn't entirely approve of Anna. I never knew why. I thought at first it was jealousy - he was afraid she would take me away from here - from working with him. We had a terrible argument about it -"
"And you left?"
"For almost a year. But when Anna died, I needed somewhere to go - and Daniel was the only person I could think of that wouldn't ask questions, wouldn't offer interminable sympathies - "
"So you came back."
"For a year after she drowned, I would wake up in the middle of the night, certain I heard her, calling my name, begging me to save her-"
Laura put her arms around him, holding him as her lips found his. His response was immediate, and she found herself lying back on the sofa, looking up into those blue eyes. "Harry-"
"Hmm?" he asked, as his lips moved from her lips to her neck.
"Yes."
His head came up, and he looked at her. "Yes? You're certain, Laura? You won't change your mind-"
"No." He kissed her again, harder, deeper than he had before, then trailed kissed down her neck to the top of her evening dress before standing and and pulling her with him. "Let's go upstairs, shall we?"

He took her to his bedroom, but Laura didn't have any time to look around as he drew her into his arms for another long kiss as his fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress and lowered it slowly.
Laura unfastened the buttons of his silk shirt and slid her fingers inside, tangling her long fingers in the curling hair she found, her nails grazing a nipple, causing him to deepen the kiss even further. When he lifted her into his arms, Laura met his eyes. "Oh, Laura. I'd given up on ever finding anyone like you." He laid her gently on the bed, joining her there to run his hand over her. "You're the most beautiful, wonderful, enticing woman I've ever met-"
"Harry-"
"Yes?"
"Shut up and kiss me." He smiled and lowered his lips to hers. . .