The Rabbit darted down the Cabrillo Highway, somewhere south of Monterey and a smudge on the map called Lucia.  The top was down and Remington was only half-paying attention to the road.  He was bored with the trees, the cliffs and the pounding surf.  Why did I let Laura talk me into this?  Ah, yes, because when she looks at me with those lovely chestnut eyes of hers and suggests--begs, really-- that driving to and from Monterey would be a treat for the pair of us. ...  And I’m stupid enough to want as much private time with her as possible even if it’s in a car--therefore, I agreed to this folly.  He rubbed his forehead before letting his elbow resume its position on the door frame.  He could have made the trip alone and caught a quick flight in an out of the little city in a day.  But when have I ever been able to deny her?

It certainly hadn’t been a wasted trip.  Last night had brought interesting revelations that the pair had yet to fully comprehend.

The drive to Monterey had been uneventful and rather pleasant.  He and Laura had taken Highway 5 on Tuesday morning to supervise the final touches on a security system for a client’s home.  Conversation was always easy for them and even the occasional silences were pleasant.  Remington had always found Laura’s company to be enjoyable, whether they were sparring or sight-seeing.

Last night, after a long day of inspecting and testing the new system, they had accepted the client’s gracious invitation to stay for dinner and the night.  The pair had been very careful to keep things strictly professional--even going so far as to decline a late night walk on the beach.

But declining the walk didn’t mean not going on one.  Well after the house had shut down for the evening,    he’d discovered Laura near the craggy shore, sitting alone on a rock with her feet in the water, letting the waves splash over them.  He couldn’t help admiring her profile.  As he drew closer, he noticed that the salt spray had dampened her shirt enough to give it an attractive cling.

She’d appeared unsurprised to find him standing next to her.  “We both seem to be attracted to the ocean,” she mused without preamble.

“Mmm.  Yes.  What do you suppose is the draw?”  He took off his own shoes and sat beside her, taking advantage of the fact that the rock was narrow enough for him to be near her and still large enough not to crowd her.

“It’s peaceful.  No work.  No demands.  No expectations at all.”

Remington noted her pensive mood and wondered what to make of it.  “Expectations from whom?” he asked cautiously.

“Me, mostly.”

“Why are you so hard on yourself, Laura?”  His voice was soft and lyrical as he posed the question.

“I wish I knew.”  She frowned and rubbed her face before resuming her stare into the dark ocean.  “That’s not fair.  I know exactly why.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“Well, I’m not sure how much enlightenment you’ll get.”  She rubbed her hands on her thighs.  “You nailed most of it at the spa last month.  You’ve given me a great deal to think about.”

Damn.  We’re not still talking about that, are we?  “Laura, we fought.  It happens sometimes.”

“Not like that.”  She turned her head to look him in the eye.  “I’ve gone to bed any number of times knowing that you were irritated or frustrated with me.  I’ve never gone to bed knowing you were truly angry with me.  Or knowing I’d hurt your feelings.”  She pulled her hair back with one hand and let the strands fall.  “Apparently, your good opinion of me is far more important than I’d been admitting to myself.”

She drew her feet out of the water and shook them off before crossing her arms and resting them on her drawn-up knees.  “Which, whether I like it or not, puts you in the same category as my mother, Frances, my father, and even Donald.”

“People who irritate the hell out of you?”  Remington wryly interjected.

Laura chuckled.  “No--people whom I love and can’t bear the idea of disappointing.”  She shifted again, dropping her legs down in front of her and fiddling with her fingernails.  “What I can’t figure is where along the way I fell in love with you.  I’ve had the same feeling about you since the day we met.  I think  I’ve been waiting for that magical moment.  I thought I needed some kind of sign or declaration from you so that I would know I was in love.  But it’s been that way all along and I’ve missed it entirely.  Some detective I am,” she added with chagrin in her voice.  The splashing of the waves filled in the silence as she stopped speaking.

The moment he’d feared for so long was here.  What do I say?  I love you too?  As if she would believe me.  As if I would believe me after the spa.  At last, Remington took her hand in his and kissed the back of it.  “I rather think it must be the same feeling I’ve had for you all along as well.”  That’s honest enough and entirely accurate.

Laura caressed his cheek with that same hand and Remington shifted on the rock so that she sat between his legs.  You’ve no idea what you’ve just done to me, Laura.  It’s utterly ridiculous that a mere slip of a lass can lead a bloke around the way you do.  But I can do this. … The pair indulged in long, promising kisses.  Neither of them restrained their rising ardor and they broke away smiling as they realized where they still were.

“You had to tell me this on a rock in the ocean at a client’s house,” he admonished.  “Not at our homes.  Not on a nice, sandy beach somewhere.”

She laughed openly.  “I’ve never had the best timing in these things, Mr. Steele.”   

That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.  “Romance.  I must teach you a thing about it if it kills me.”  And it might.

“We have a long drive home tomorrow to talk about it.”

He raised his brows.  “You’re not going to take all this back as soon as it’s daylight?”

“No.  I suppose I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

“Come then, Laura.  We will virtuously go to our beds yet again and, for you, I will wake early and discover exactly how fast the Rabbit can go on the freeway.”  Hopefully very fast.  Ninety at the least.



But they didn’t take the freeway.  Their client had insisted they stay for brunch and then Laura had talked Remington into poking around the little shops in Carmel-by-the-Sea for nearly half the afternoon.  A unique beaten gold bracelet with red-stained glass that suited Laura caught his eye.  He surprised her with it over a late lunch.  She accepted the gift with an arched brow and an embarrassed smile.  Later, he noticed her fingering and stroking it when she thought he wasn’t looking.

And the kisses afterward … she hadn’t been locking lips with him such as that yesterday and he wasn’t sure if it was the bracelet or the declaration.  He’d already had to have a conversation with a certain body part about what wasn’t going to be accomplished today, and that same body part sulked--letting it be known how unhappy it was with the entire situation.  Remington shifted uncomfortably several times during the afternoon.

Afterward, Laura had waxed sentimental about the little road fronting the ocean, and he now found himself driving south on the Cabrillo Highway.  It was sure to add a full hour to the drive to LA.

Her declaration had completely changed the rules of their game, and he’d discovered he had no ability to resist her whims whatsoever.  So now it was late in the afternoon, and Remington had the prospect of the long-drive home while sitting next to the woman he dearly wanted to get behind a locked door with and stay there for a week.  He was driving a bit fast for the narrow road, but having spent too many years navigating the winding roads of Italy, he didn’t notice, and the car scooted along the highway at a fair clip.

An hour later, as the sun arced low in the sky, Laura closed her eyes and dozed in the passenger seat.  Twice a bump jolted her awake.

“Laura?”

“Hmmm?”

“You can put your head in my lap if you like.”  He reached in the back seat and came up with his black jacket.  Laying it across the console between them, he patted it.

With a quizzical look, Laura shifted so that she was lying on her back with her head on his lap.  She leaned her head against his torso and rediscovered how much she liked the way he smelled--all man with an overtone of his favorite cologne.

He dropped his left hand to stroke her hair.  Ah, love, that feels entirely right.    

Sometime later in the twilight evening, Laura sighed in her sleep, moments before waking.  Upon opening her eyes, she looked up and said simply, “I love you.”  Startled, Remington jerked his foot off the gas pedal, a movement that probably saved their lives.

The loud pop a fraction of a second later shocked them both and the little car veered hard to the right.  Although Remington was an excellent driver, he had little control over the blown front tire.  He braked hard as they slipped off the road and Laura gasped, “Oh, God, the cliffs!”  before turning her head fully into his body.  With both hands, he jerked the wheel one last time, aiming for a sturdy tree.  They smacked into it with a hard jolt that crushed the front end of the Rabbit, killing the engine and spewing radiator fluid across the rocky ground.

“Good Lord.  Are you all right?”  Remington slid his hands under Laura and helped her to sit up.

She rubbed the back of her head and shoulder where they had connected with the dash.  “Yeah, I’m okay.  You?”

He nodded and let his hand rest on her waist.  Laura turned and they took in the crumpled hood together.  She winced.  “So much for the Rabbit.”

Remington opened the car door and his eyes widened.  “Ah, I think we’d better climb out the back.”  Laura looked across his lap and saw that the ground sloped away under them.  Not knowing if the car was stable, she grabbed her purse and he his jacket and they scrambled over the trunk in short order.  Once out, she dug for her own keys and popped the trunk.  From the safety of terra firma, they each grabbed their overnight bags.  She retrieved a pair of blankets and an extra tote she kept there for emergencies.

All of it lay in a pile behind the Rabbit while the couple assessed the circumstances.  Laura stood at the precipice rubbing her hands up and down her arms, with the last of the sun washing her face with a dull orange glow.  Remington came up behind her and covered her arms with his.  He noted there were a fair number of trees on this section of sea cliff, but any number of the smaller ones or the outright gaps could have let the little car slip through and crash on the rocks below.

“Nice reflexes, Mr. Steele,” Laura said softly.  She turned and laid her head on his chest for a moment.

Good Lord, Laura, why are we always a hair’s breadth from losing everything?  He held her tightly and when he couldn’t look anymore, he led her away from the edge.  While they walked, darkness came in earnest in the sudden way it does when the sun drops into the ocean.

She dug in the tote bag and came up with a flashlight while Remington walked back to the road.  He stood at the side with his hands stuffed into his pockets while Laura looked over the tire.  “It didn’t seem as if the car traveled that far,” he commented after a moment when she joined him, holding out the nail that had embedded itself in the sidewall.

He took it from her as she replied, “No, but it was a good thing.  You had time to slow us down, anyway.”  Still cool and collected, Laura continued, “We’ll have to set out flares or no one will find us.  The skid marks aren’t very obvious and the rocky ground doesn’t show many tracks.”  She turned away from the road and Remington caught her arm.

So damn controlled.  “Laura?  Doesn’t this bother you?” he said hoarsely.

She looked at his hand and back into his eyes.  “Of course, it does.”

“You’re a damn sight better at hiding your emotions that I am.”  He jerked her into his embrace and held her.  “Bloody hell, Laura,” he muttered, “one minute you’re telling me you love me; the next I’m picking you up off the dash.  It’s a wonder you don’t have a concussion.”

Wryly, Laura leaned back in his arms.  “Actually, I think my shoulder hit first or I would.”

Wrong thing to say, love.  He immediately began unfastening her shirt.

She caught his hands against her chest.  “Mr. Steele!”

He brushed them away and continued to unbutton her blouse.  In a harsh voice he ordered, “Laura, if you can tell me you love me, do you think you can call me Remington?  And damn it--I’m not making a pass at you--I want to see how badly you’re bruised.”

Catching himself, he modulated his tones and brushed her cheek with the back of a hand.  “You’ll know when I’m making a move on you, Laura.  Now turn around and let me see.”  She hesitantly turned and let the shirt fall to her elbows.  With the flashlight, he could see that her shoulder had a deep red mark on it that was sure to purple later, but beyond that her skin was unblemished.  Tenderly, he dropped kisses across the spot before slipping the fabric over her shoulder again.  Truth was he’d seen worse on her after any number of cases.

“Feel better?” she asked as she buttoned up the blouse.

“Perhaps.”  He put his arm around her and led her toward their luggage.

Laura knelt down and dug through her tote for the flares.  “I only have two.  They’ll last for about an hour before they burn out.  We should probably put them out now; traffic is only going to get lighter as the night goes on.”

“I’ll not argue with you, but I will tell you that I hardly passed a soul on the way down here.  Apparently, your scenic route is a little too remote on a Wednesday night for tourists.  We’ll have to hope a resident comes through.”  He placed the flares on the edge of the road, stacking them end to end so that the first would light the second before exhausting itself.  Returning to the car, he found that Laura had made a pallet with the blankets and was sitting in the middle of it with the largesse from her tote bag.

“Water and granola bars.  Sorry.  I know you despise them.”

“Ah, well.  Did our sandwiches survive?”  They’d picked up a light dinner to eat along the way.

She looked up at him, startled.  “Oh--I forgot about them.”

“Hang on; I’ll get the bag.”  He leaned over the side of the car and retrieved the sack.  “You know, after this, we really need to think of getting a car phone installed in whatever we get to replace the Rabbit.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Mr. Steele.”  He shot her an arched brow as he laid out the sandwiches and she rolled her eyes.  “Remington.”

“Better.”

“When did my calling you Mr. Steele start bothering you?”

“Sometime around midnight.  Surely, if two people are to have a committed relationship, they should have progressed beyond last names--at least in privacy.”

“Then you don’t mind if I call you Mr. Steele at the office?”

“No, but I do claim the privilege of doing this much more frequently there.”  Warm lips covered hers for a sweet, breathy moment.  Deliberately, Remington broke off the kiss before Laura could.  “Now, Miss Holt, let’s eat while we wait for our rescuers.”



An hour later, the last of the flares fizzled and not a single car had come their way.  The quarter-moon shed some light over them, creating odd shadows in the night among the trees.  He’d watched Laura during that time and discovered that she was more affected by the accident than she let on.  Typical of Miss Holt, who could handle anything from dead bodies falling into her lap to bad guys shooting at her, she sat on the blanket, sending only the occasional glance at the car and the cliff.  When Remington sat behind her so that she could lean on his shoulder, she hadn’t resisted in the slightest, and once there, had made no effort at all to move away.

Several clues from the past four years clicked together all at once.  He couldn’t remember a single time that Laura had rejected comfort when it was offered.  Only once had she asked for it and it was under extreme circumstances.  But as long as I’m offering, she’s not going to decline.

Unaware of his thoughts, Laura's mind was working her way through the problem at hand.  “Now what?” she wondered.  “We’re nearly two hours away from the next real town, and we could wander for a day and not find a house in these hills in the dark.”

“Well, I suppose we can sit on the side of the road and try to wave someone down, or we can get some sleep and try again as soon as it’s daylight.”

“Think we can sleep on these rocks?  It’s been hard enough sitting on them for the past hour.”

Remington grinned broadly.  “Leave that to me.”



Laura looked over the pallet he’d created a short distance from the car.  It offered a small amount of privacy from the road, being tucked into a tiny copse of trees.  He’d cleared the worst of the rocks and then layered the leaves lying about with ones he’d stripped from a nearby tree.  Next, he’d layered on every bit of their clothing from their luggage and then topped it all with a blanket.  Experimentally, she sat down.  “We’ve slept on worse, I suppose.”

“This is a far sight better than an underpass.”  He kicked off his shoes and stretched out.

She chuckled.  “Or a porn theatre.”

“Oh, I don’t know about the latter.  The seats weren’t too bad and the entertainment was, while questionable, at least creative in its execution.”

“Do you see the bright side in everything, Mr. S--Remington?”

He flashed a grin, stretched out and put his hands behind his head.  “Laura, it’s a beautiful spring night.  The woman I want to be with most is next to me.  We’ve survived what could have been a terrible accident, and we’ve the wits about us to make the best of the situation and still go home tomorrow even if we have to walk a fair amount of the way.  Now, I can think of any number of pleasant ways to pass the time until morning if you’re game.  If not, then I claim the privilege of sleeping with you in my arms at the very least.”

She scrunched her whole face up and put the heel of her hand to her forehead.  “You’re not going to like this.”

“Now, what?”  Comically, he crossed his arms and pretended to sulk.  Here it comes. …

A couple of her fingertips trailed up his arm while she spoke, “I think I like the first idea quite well, but I’m not on the Pill.  So unless you’re carrying protection, we’ll have to stick with the second.”

Mentally, Remington nearly choked.  Laura?  I was only having a bit of fun.  Ah, protection?  You’re serious--  “I’m sure we can come up with something in the middle, but it’s not something I carry around in my wallet.”   

Laura’s whole face brightened all at once and she dug in her purse.  “Wallet, wallet--please let it not be expired--ah, ha!”  She held up a single condom that had been hidden in the inner recesses of her leather billfold.  “And it’s still good!”

A certain previously sulking part of Remington’s body stood straight up and took note of the turn of events.  I’m with you, mate.  Don’t get your hopes up.  We’re under a tree on the California coastline next to a wrecked car.  He took it from her and dropped it on the blanket behind him.  “One, huh.  I’ll do my best not to be insulted and take it for the manna from heaven that it is.”  He reached for her and began slipping the buttons on her blouse free again.  Nuzzling her ear with his lips, he whispered, “This, love, is making a move on you.”

She laughed and pulled him to her.  Dear Lord, she is serious--


* * * * *


When the dawn glowed in the sky, Laura opened her eyes to find Remington sleeping on his side with one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around his jacket that he’d folded and used as a pillow.  Her nose was only an inch from his chest and the black curls tickled.

If anyone had told her that the first time they made love would be on a sea cliff off a California highway, on a makeshift pallet of leaves and clothes, she would have thought that person was certifiably crazy--especially given Remington’s penchant for champagne and flowers.  But she forgot he had a knack for drawing romance out of even the most mundane of situations.

Perhaps the accident had dropped her defenses; certainly, it was natural to want comfort and life-affirmations after such an incident.  But Laura had been thinking about getting her hands on Remington since kissing him on the rock and had every intention of going home with him yesterday.  With her head in his lap, she’d had erotic, anticipatory dreams.  His hand stroking her hair while she dozed had only fueled them.

They’d been well-matched.  Where he was infinitely patient, savoring every touch and sensation, she craved--driving him wild with her nips and need.  Twice last night she’d taken him with mouth and hands, twice to her countless trips to Nirvana.  Near morning they’d at last come together, as exhausted combatants taking their shared victory lap, and found the triumph more stunning than they’d envisioned.

Coming down had been no more than a banking of the coals for the night.  Need still smoldered through her, flaring to life as he woke, his lips curving up before pulling her to him and nuzzling her neck and throat.  She was well aware of his morning desire and tried to put a halt to the proceedings before they got out of hand.

“Remington, we … can’t do this.”

“Sure we can.”  He rummaged around in his jacket for a minute before coming up with a second condom.

Laura’s mouth made an ‘O’ of astonishment.  “But you said you didn’t have any protection.”

“I said I didn’t carry any in my wallet.  And I don’t.  I do, however, keep one inside my jacket.  I didn’t tell you because I knew damned well that if I had you last night, I would want you again this morning, and I do--with an intensity that makes me just a wee bit nervous.  Once with you could never be enough, Laura.”  A touch of Irish laced his sleepy voice, a sure sign that his emotions were close to the surface.

Without any further warning, Remington pulled Laura on top of him.  This time, she was the one who understood what it was to be craved.   



A little over an hour later the sun was peeking over the mountains, and the couple was in the process of folding blankets and repacking luggage when a yellow pickup, liberally striped with brown rust, came to a quick halt at the side of the road.  The driver hopped out and walked over to Steele.  “You guys okay?”

Remington nodded and crossed the rocky ground to shake the older man’s hand while Laura stood and dusted off her slacks.  “A little bumped and bruised but we’re all right.”

“What happened?  I saw the dead flares and looked over just in time to see the butt of the car hanging out.”  The man pushed back his ball cap and squatted in his boots near the front tire.  “Blowout?”

“Aye, mate.  My girlfriend and I were coming back from Carmel-by-the-Sea last night, taking the scenic route when the tire went.”  He threw a sly glance at Laura, who rolled her eyes again and walked over to stand next to him.

“You were lucky.”

“He’s got good reflexes,” Laura interjected as Remington put his arm around her.

“Hi, miss.  I’m Sam … Sam Collins.  I live up the way there.”  He pointed to the nearby hills.  “I’m heading to Monterey.  Can I give you two a lift?”

“Remington Steele … my assoc--my girlfriend, Laura Holt.”  She stuffed a hand down the rear pocket of his jeans and pinched--hard enough that he jolted.

“Steele, huh?  And Holt?  Aren’t you two the big-time detectives out of LA that just solved that lottery ticket thing?  Hmm.  Didn’t know you two were an item.  Did a good job keeping that out of the papers--those nosy gossips tell everything.”

“Monterey is good, sir.  We can catch a flight to LA and have someone tow the car,” Laura said, glossing over his comments.

“That I can do.”  The two men picked up the bulk of the luggage and threw it into the truck while Laura gave the Rabbit a solid onceover--stuffing everything she wanted to keep from the glove box and under the seats into the tote.

“There are worse-looking women to be stuck with overnight, Steele.”  Sam was eyeballing Laura’s slim backside as she leaned with great care over the side of the Rabbit.

“Aye.  She’s a wonderful partner.”  Remington’s gaze connected with hers as she glanced back at him for a moment.  He realized it was impossible to miss the look of pure satisfaction on Laura’s face.  She practically glowed and had a sexy gleam in her eyes that hadn’t been there the day before.

“In more than just solving cases, I bet.”

Steele slanted a hard look at him and hooked his thumbs in his pockets.  “Laura is very precious to me, any way you look at her.”

Sam smiled.  “Those are the best kind.  Good luck.”  He held out a hand.

Icy blue eyes assessed the older man for a moment before taking it.  “I think you mean that.”

“I do.  My wife and I have been married for forty-five years.  She still keeps me jumping.  I know what that look means.  Feel free to get some sleep on the drive to Monterey.”


*****


Mildred had her arms crossed when Remington opened the office door for Laura the next morning.

“What’s wrong, Mildred?”  Laura asked.

She slapped a newspaper down on the desk.  “Is there any particular reason why I’m the last to know everything?”

The detective picked up the society page of the Los Angeles Tribune and read aloud.

“Apparently, besides solving interesting cases and being one of the city’s leading businessmen, Remington Steele has found time for a new twist to his social life.  Anonymous sources indicate that Steele and his long-time associate, Laura Holt, were seen on a short vacation together this week in Carmel-by-the-Sea.  Steele was seen presenting his girlfriend? associate? fiancée? with a lovely handmade bracelet from one of the divine little shops in that illustrious town over an intimate lunch.  Given the familiarity the couple had with one another, one can only assume their partnership has been exclusive for quite some time.  Well-played, Mr. Steele and Miss Holt.  We all love a good mystery.”

Laura’s mouth dropped open.  “How in the world did the newspaper find out we were there?  The only people we talked to were our client and Sam.”

“Sam who?” asked Mildred.

Remington answered, “Sam Collins.  A nice older chap who picked us up and took us back to Monterey.”

The secretary dissolved in laughter, chuckling relentlessly until tears came to her eyes.  The couple looked at each other and back to her, shaking their heads.

“What did we miss?” Laura asked.

Mildred wiped her cheeks.  “Sam Collins is a retired editor from the Los Angeles Tribune.  He probably dropped you guys off at the airport, did a little reconnoitering and called in a great piece of gossip.”  Her eyes dropped to the jewelry Laura was wearing on her arm.  “Is that the bracelet?”

“Uh, yes,” she answered.

“So?  Are you two an item now?  Or is the society page horribly mistaken as usual?”

Remington placed an arm around Laura’s waist and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “Oh, I don’t know, Mildred; I guess it depends on how long she’s going to let me refer to her as my ‘girlfriend.’”

Laura used the newspaper to swat him on the shoulder.  “Do you want to be known as my ‘boyfriend?’” she said with a saccharine smile before turning to walk into her own office.

He followed her inside.  “I don’t know.  Sounds better than ‘companion’ or ‘significant other.’  But if you like, you can call me ‘lover’ instead.”  He closed the door behind them, shutting out Mildred’s
laughter.

Laura’s shout of annoyance could be heard through the door.



15 April 2009