Sparks fly when a blue eyed, mysterious con man joins the payroll at the Remington Steele Agency.  

Steele Playing By The Rules - Part II

    Laura pivoted on her heel and walked back to the window.  She'd been wearing out the carpet behind HIS desk for almost five minutes.  She was nervous; as jittery as a racehorse before the gun shot.  Looking at her watch, she put a hand to her restless stomach and begged it to behave.  Pulling the sheer curtain back, she glanced haphazardly around the Los Angeles skyline.  Would he show up?  Had he changed his mind?  What if he did show up?  How would she ever get through a night with him masquerading as Remington Steele?  Laura groaned out loud just thinking of the things that could go wrong.

    "Come now, I'm not that late, am I?"  A voice said cheerfully from behind her.

    Laura spun around.  She was still holding the curtain and almost pulled it off its rod. 

    "Careful," he warned as Laura grappled with the drapes.

    "I've got it!" Laura said, testily.

    "Are you always this nervous when you meet clients for dinner?"  He smiled.

    "I'm not nervous!  I was just..."

    "Talking to yourself again, eh?"

    "If you're done with the jokes, can we get going?"  She sailed past him to retrieve her purse on the couch.

    His arm shot out, grabbing her gently.  Laura turned around, eyeing him in question.

    "You look beautiful Laura," he said, softly.

    "The compliment threw her off guard.  Of course she looked beautiful.  She'd spent hours tossing clothes around her apartment, before settling on the red crepe de chine dress that rested carelessly off her shoulders.  It was knee length, complimenting Laura's slight figure with ease.  She'd decided to wear her hair down, combing and teasing it until it was perfect.  Her lips were painted lightly in a matching hue that complimented both the dress and the charcoal gray of her eye shadow.  "Thank you," she replied slowly.

    "You don't take compliments well at all, do you?"

   Only when they're coming from you.  Laura thought.  "You look..."  Gorgeous!  Good enough to sop up with toast!  To die for!  Her mind and body screamed.  "Nice," Laura finally supplied.

    "Ah nice, one of the two most overused words in the English language.  Right next to...very."

    Laura glanced over him and had to admit, he could wear the hell out of a suit!  Her breath constricted when images of him, without it, suffused her mind.

    "Shall we go?"  She said, too loudly.

    He stepped aside and Laura retrieved her purse.  With a hand at her back he escorted her out the office and to the awaiting limo.  When they were ensconced in the elegant car, Laura settled back on the seat and ran a hand through her hair.

    He watched the movement.  "I like your hair flowing about.  It becomes you."

    Laura thanked him politely.

    "Don't tell me the great Remington Steele never gave you a compliment?"

    Laura glared at him.  "You are intent on getting a rise out of me aren't you?  You know perfectly well there is no Remington Steele." 

    "I must admit, I find it quite delightful when you throw daggers at me with your eyes.  And when your chest heaves when you're angry, like now..."

    "I'm not angry!"

    "Ok, flustered then.  The point is, I find it...extremely attractive," he winked.

    Quickly, Laura crossed her arms over her chest.  "I'm not trying to attract you." 

    He caressed her with his eyes.  "I can see that, but you are just the same."

    Laura didn't have a speedy retort for that confession, she turned and focused on the images zooming by.

***

    Laura couldn't have imagined a more uncomfortable evening if she'd tried.  Mr. Shriver's wife and daughter were in the dinner party and the latter had taken one look at him and went in for the kill.  Over dinner, Laura watched the glamorous career woman take every opportunity to laugh, flirt with and touch, her newly manifested boss. 

    Laura noticed he handled himself with the utmost decorum; expertly deflecting Miss Shriver's advances and he was always polite and pleasant.  At one point she'd leaned in and whispered something in his ear.  Whatever it was, brought a look of surprise on his face and a look of triumph on hers. 

    When she glanced Laura's way, she smiled with so much assurance Laura wanted to take her shrimp fork and stab her in the hand with it.  At that moment, Laura knew she needed to get away from the table and the bizarre group.  "If everyone will excuse me, I'm going to the ladies room." 

    "Wonderful idea Miss Holt, I'll join you," Mrs. Shriver slurred.

    "Careful darling," her husband warned.

    "Of course Phillip," she laughed weaving precariously.

    Laura walked close to the pickled Mrs. Shriver, in case she teetered on her expensive high-heeled shoes and toppled over.  In the bathroom, Laura freshened her make up and tried her best to ignore the overly loud woman.

    "Isn't this a glorious dinner party?  I told Phillip it was a marvelous idea.  I mean everyone who's anyone dines here.  Oh dear, I think Cassidy's got a thing for your boss.  Not that I blame her!  Good heavens, that accent alone makes me want to cancel my sea kelp wrap!"  Mrs. Shriver sighed loudly, before collapsing into giggles.  "Cancel my kelp wrap.  Now that was funny!"

    "Hysterical," Laura agreed dryly while escorting the elder woman back to their table.

    "Ah, I see Laura and Mrs. Shriver have returned.  Care for that dance now Miss Holt?" 

    "I'd love to, Mr. Steele," Laura said, quickly and almost dumped Mrs. Shriver in her husband's lap.

    They walked to the middle of the dance floor and began moving with the music.  It was crowded, so they were effectively blocked from their party's view.  When he put one hand on hers and the other on her waist, sparks flew.

    "So, how are you enjoying your evening?" 

    Laura snorted as he spun her around.  "It's going along beautifully," she drawled.  Did you know that everyone, who's anyone, dines here?"  Laura mimicked.

    "You don't say?  Well then we're bound to make a few contacts.  I'm sure the rich and famous would have use of our services."  He twirled her.

    "It looks like Miss Shriver's hoping you can be of some...assistance."

    "Come now Laura, just keeping the clients happy."

    "Mr. Shriver is a client, not his daughter." Laura reminded him frostily.

    "Careful Miss Holt, you're ire is showing."

     "It is not.  We are here on business and you should be conducting yourself accordingly."

    "Now I know, you're jealous."

    "Jealous!  Why would I possibly be jealous?   You don't...we're not..."

    "Involved?"  He supplied.

    "Yes.  We aren't involved.  Besides, it isn't good business to flirt with the client's daughter."

    "She was the only one making advances as you're no doubt aware.  And I think I handled myself rather admirably."

    "You did," Laura admitted grudgingly.  "By the way, what did she whisper in your ear?"

    Remington spun her around and pulled her back to his front.  Her arms were wrapped around his neck and dying to run themselves through his hair.  Laura fought the urge by locking her fingers together.

    "Nothing really."

    "Oh no you don't.  You said that a little TOO quickly.  Come on, what did the blonde barracuda say?"

    "Just that she wasn't wearing any panties and that her offices were five minutes from here."

    Laura stumbled and was instantly caught in strong, warm arms.  She cleared her throat to hide her embarrassment, but it was for naught because she was blushing profusely.

    "I see I've shocked you, my apologies for being so blunt, but you did ask..."  He smiled wickedly.

    "Did you take her up on her offer?"  She couldn't help but ask.

    "Laura!  I'm wounded.  You really think I'd be twirling you around the dance floor if I did?  Besides, Remington Steele doesn't romance the CLIENTS," he stressed.  "Now his ASSOCIATES are a different story."

    "Laura's heart skidded to a halt.  Why did he always have to say something that would throw her off kilter?"

    The music ended and Remington reluctantly escorted Laura back to their table.  Another half hour went by before Laura discreetly began to wrap of their evening.  Laura had made arrangements for Fred to pick them up from the restaurant; leaning against the plush seat, she sighed loudly.  "What a group!" 

    "They were colorful," Remington agreed.

    They made idle conversation and before long the limo stopped in front of an impressive building.

    "What's this?"

    "Just a pit stop," Laura replied and eased out of the car.

    Remington followed her into the building and an elevator.

    "Did you find another party to go to?"

    "No."

    "Oh, you're taking me to your apartment to have your way with me?"  He grinned lasciviously.

    "You wish."

    "Actually, I do."

    "Will you stop that!"  Laura chided as the bell sounded and the elevator stopped.

    Laura stepped out and rummaged through her purse.  Pulling out a set of keys, she flipped through them.  She opened the door in front of them, turned the light on and stepped inside.  Remington cautiously followed her.  Inside was a luxurious apartment that was decorated in a decidedly masculine palette; rich grays and browns added warmth, as did the fireplace that Laura flicked on.  She turned around and smiled like someone that just revealed a secret they'd been keeping.

    "Well, how do you like it?"

    "What's not to like about it?  But, who's flat is this?"

    Laura smiled genuinely.   "It's yours.  It's Remington Steele's, condo.  We use it to conduct business meetings and to..."

    "Give an address to a name," he finished for her.

    "So to speak."

    As Remington walked through the rooms, he guesstimated where things would go.  He smiled when he realized he was actually excited about it.

    "This is quite a place Laura.  This must cost your agency a fortune in rent."

    "It does, but it's worth it.  Remington Steele has an image to uphold, that image suggests, he likes the very best."

    He eyed her intently. "In everything, it would appear."

    Laura shifted uncomfortably.  Remington headed into the bedroom and the spell was broken.  She shouldn't have done it, but she followed him.  He was by the table looking out the window.

    "This is an incredible turn of events; who'd have thought I'd ever be in Los Angeles, posing as a famous detective and living in a penthouse to boot?"   Turning, he looked at her thoughtfully. 

    Their eyes held and it was impossible for either to look away.  Laura was the first to recover.  She cleared her throat and extended her hand.

    "So, we have a deal then?"

    Remington looked at her hand and smiled.  He grasped it and instead of shaking it, used it to pull her effortlessly into his arms.  She gasped but did not pull away.  "We have a deal Miss Holt."

    "Well, shouldn't we seal it with a handshake?" She whispered up at him.

    He shook his head and leaned in.  "On the contrary, I'd rather we sealed it with a kiss."      

To Be Continued...