Steeling a Dream
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Steeling a Dream
Part 2: Under a Steele Dark Sky
Part 2: Under a Steele Dark Sky
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Steele Holting On
Chapter 7 Changes
Five weeks later:
Johnny rubbed his forehead, shaking his head at the latest report. Interpol was closing in. He knew it
was only a matter of days before he was arrested. Damn O’Callaghan. If it hadn’t been for him, none
of this would be happening. His options were dwindling rapidly. Grey-blue eyes pinned his
assistant. “Riley, book a flight for me.
“Where to, sir.”
“Los Angeles.”
Over the past few weeks, Remington delighted in realizing that Laura took far more caution than he
might have insisted on if he’d tried to set limits on her. She became extraordinarily inventive in figuring
out surveillance techniques that circumvented the need for undercover and stealth work. Embracing
technology with a vengeance, she spent many afternoons with him figuring out how they could use the
ever-evolving “toys” that came on the market every few months.
For someone who wasn’t sure how much she had liked changing her name from “Holt” to “Steele,” the
fact was that she now garnered nearly as much attention as he did in public, and only a few hardheaded
men ever questioned her right to be in the agency. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the media in the past two
years that Remington Steele never introduced her as “my wife, Laura” but as “my partner, Laura Steele”
in reference to a case. He did the same in the office, forcing others to recognize her skills whether they
liked it or not. Except for the security clients which were handed directly to Remington, every client met
with her first, and she directed the progress of each case they took on. None of that had changed with
the onset of pregnancy, and since she was now free of the leg brace, she was back to doing legwork on
her own cases.
Nighttime work was out of the question, but she could serve as a lookout, staying in contact with
Remington and Kaleb via the new wires from the safety of the car or a nearby perch. Sandra didn’t like
this kind of operation, preferring the straight forward approach in the middle of the day or surveillance
work. Instead, she handled a great deal of the “bread and butter” work of the agency: obtaining evidence
for lawyers in divorce trials, usually involving photographs or paper trails proving adultery or finding
hidden assets. She and Mildred worked hand-in-hand on the latter.
Mildred discovered in the past two years that, as a Certified Public Accountant--leftover from her IRS
fraud squad days--as well as a private investigator, she was now considered an expert witness and was
often called upon by various attorneys to provide testimony regarding documents either she had
uncovered or they had provided. As such, she was less available for undercover work as the demands on
her time increased. She loved every second of it, feeling as if she was finally garnering the recognition
she deserved.
If Mildred was the brains in this part of the operation, Ian was her hands and Sandra her feet. The trio
was beginning to gel as a team much as Mildred, Remington and Laura had in the beginning.
Kaleb, however, was proving to be a quick learner and a fast thinker along the lines of Mr. and Mrs.
Steele. He had begun subbing for Laura whenever nighttime escapades were required. In the process,
Laura discovered two more things about her partnership with Remington. First, having his voice in her
ear, via the wires, kept their partnership intact while he worked--either alone or with Carter in tow. He
liked knowing there was another set of eyes on the outside, and she liked being able to keep track of
him. She’d sat at home biting her thumbnails exactly once before insisting they work out an alternative.
Second, she proved to be capable of thinking through the clues left on the scene nearly as well as if she
had been there. Remington already knew how to give her succinct, accurate descriptions, and Carter was
coming along rapidly. Listening to Mr. Steele describe a setting to Mrs. Steele fine-tuned his ability to see
pertinent details and link them together. And just as she had directed her partner to look for the Pitkin
paintings hidden in the bathroom, she often had the pair hunt for clues in unexpected places.
Carter learned a great deal just by listening to the banter between Mr. and Mrs. Steele, but out of
desperation in trying to understand their verbal shorthand, he’d begun renting the old movies they often
referenced.
Between cases, Mr. Steele was training Carter in the security business. After nearly two years, he was
handing over the plans and letting Kaleb sweat out the details of the setup. So far the young man had an
excellent handle on the basics, but inevitably, Remington could point out fine weaknesses. Sealing those
up was the extra element that gave the agency the top notch reputation it deserved. Only working
retrievals and experience would give Carter the insight he would need to find those cracks. Remington
still trusted no one else to make certain the final setup was complete on a security job.
At the same time, James Buchanan contacted Steele about sending the first of the Interpol trainees to the
agency. Remington passed him over to Laura to work out the details. Having been formally trained, she
had a good idea of what skills the students should possess and what could be taught to them at the
agency.
“What exactly will we be teaching, Laura?” he wondered late on a Tuesday afternoon after her third or
fourth conversation with Buchanan.
She leaned back and propped her feet on her desk. At ten weeks, her belly was rounding slightly, and
the monumental sleepiness was beginning to recede. They’d finally shared the news with Ian, Kaleb and
Sandra only that morning. Both men were chagrined when Sandra held out her hand, and they each had
to slap a twenty into it. The boys lost another five apiece to her when Mildred admitted to being in on
the news for several weeks already.
Laura picked up her notepad and pencil. “We’ll be teaching a way of thinking. We seem to have an
innate sense of looking deeper into a situation than most. You have a knack for personalities and
motives; I’m good at seeing connections and relationships.”
He leaned against her desk and crossed his arms. “So how do we teach someone how to think?”
“Exactly what we’ve done with Sandra and Kaleb. We coach; we review. We let them shadow us.
Buchanan’s giving us agents who have already had their training but haven’t been in the field yet. He
wants them to gain a little seasoning here while they learn what we--and more specifically, you--do. We
solve complex cases because we process information better than most.” She tapped her pencil on her
notepad. “I’ve been thinking about you and what makes you so different.”
“And?” he prompted when she paused.
“And some of it can’t be taught. Nothing will replace the years of training Daniel gave you at such a
young age. Not to mention that some of your abilities were developed as a defense mechanism as a
child; much of what you do is actually a part of your personality. But I think we can get our trainees to
develop an expanded awareness of the actual possibilities of a given situation and learn to think a little
faster on their feet. You’ll also be able to coach them through various personas. I imagine you’d catch a
false Frenchman faster than a real one would.”
“So if what I do is innate ability and Daniel’s training, where does yours come from?”
“I’m a math freak, remember? Analysis and logic is in my blood. I can’t turn that off any more than
you can stop sizing up people the moment you meet them. But that same analytical ability lets me break
down what you and I do into comprehensible increments, and I can teach that to someone else.
Basically, it’s what we’ve been doing with Sandra and Kaleb. They watch us as a team. Later, I break it
down for them. We’ve had a couple of years with Kaleb to work on this technique, and you can see
how well he’s doing as a detective.”
“True. Carter’s good. With your whispering in his ear, he’s better.”
Laura grinned and then propped her cheek on her knuckles. “What I haven’t figured out is how we can
get enough cases along the lines of what Interpol does to manufacture enough situations to provide
adequate training. We’ll only have each recruit for three to five months before Buchanan wants him or
her back.”
Remington scratched his chin. “I can do that.”
“Do what?”
“Manufacture enough situations. They’ve been taught the basics of undercover work, right?
“Yes.”
“So let me massage my contacts at the museums, and I’ll take them on a few retrievals.”
Laura raised her eyebrows. Remington’s abilities had come in handy on a new sideline of business he’d
developed since they’d married. Several of his contacts from his previous life wanted him to return
stolen items to the proper authorities--partially to clean up their storerooms along with their acts--and
partially to claim the money associated with returning certain kinds of artwork and gems to those
authorities. Finder’s fees could often be lucrative, and, as long as no one could prove that Remington
knew where to locate the items in question when he “ran across them,” he was getting away with it.
Since most of his contacts were in Europe, Remington and Laura usually made excuses to travel there
several times a year. The press had made much of several of those recoveries. Unsurprisingly, they
were now receiving quite a bit of legitimate recovery work from the various museums and collectors in
both Europe and the West Coast.
However, the rule Laura had laid down was she didn’t want to know which retrievals were legitimate and
which one were courtesy of old associates of Remington’s--and if she ever figured it out, he had to
promise to stop. Her husband had become extraordinarily adept at encouraging museum directors and
the like to hire Remington Steele Investigations to find particular items. Sometimes he let months pass
before “locating” the item in question. Laura went over every single one of these finds with a fine-
toothed comb and had yet to catch Remington. It kept them both on their toes and they relished the
challenge.
“Legit or not legit?” She was beginning to see where he was going with this.
“Ah, that’s for me to know and you to never find out,” he said slyly, reminding her of their long-standing
agreement. “They’ll have a chance to practice undercover work, nightwork and the rest in a somewhat
less dangerous setting than tracking down a drug dealer. Plus they’ll be doing it with minimal technology,
so they’ll have to use their brains. Then, whenever you do get a nice, juicy case that tests all of us, I can
bring the trainees to you. No matter where I am in a recovery, I can usually get clear within ten to
twelve hours at the outside.”
Laura nodded. “That could work. What will you do about backup though?”
He scratched his cheek, thinking it through. If the “recovery” was for an old friend wanting to return the
stolen goods for the finder’s fee, the risks would be negligible and backup unnecessary. The Interpol
agent would be getting good practice without knowing it was a game. In fact, Remington could set up the
“case” anyway he wanted to test the new agents. If the recovery was legitimate, then he would operate
under the normal routines Laura set up long ago. In which case, with an untested partner along, a
backup with more experience watching out for the team only made sense.
“I’ll take Kaleb when it doesn’t make sense for you to go along.”
Laura nodded. Carter was getting better each day. In a few years, she’d be struggling to keep him from
setting up his own agency. He was that good. “What are the chances you’ll be in Europe?”
“If I go there, it will have to be in the next couple of months. After that, I’ll work my contacts here. In
case you hadn’t noticed, we’re gaining a fair reputation in the recovery business locally. And I’d rather
not be away too much anyway.” He said the last as his eyes caressed her belly.
“Can’t imagine why,” she retorted. She thought she had a bead on what he had in mind: first taking the
trainees on a fake “recovery” so he could get an idea of their skills, then taking them on a legitimate one.
As long as she didn’t ask and couldn’t prove it, it actually made a great deal of sense. Plus Kaleb would
get a whole different kind of training than he would get here. She was certain Interpol didn’t need to
know that Remington Steele had made Kaleb Carter his protégé. If Buchanan caught wind of the young
man’s abilities, Interpol would snatch him up, and the Steeles would lose a bright addition to the agency.
“So how many of these trainees are we going to get?”
“One or two each time. We’re thinking teams of two to get partners used to working together, but that
would mean two extra bodies tagging along everywhere we go. It’s hard to be a detective with an
entourage.”
“I’d rather have only one.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Laura nixed the idea of two without a second thought.
“Laura, what exactly are we getting out of this?” Remington wanted to know.
She cocked her head and stretched with distinct nonchalance. “A very nice fee and an extra intern that
we don’t have to pay. If we choose to split bonuses or finder’s fees with the intern as we do our own
staff, it’s up to us. We can probably learn quite a bit about self-defense from them and get a leg up on
whatever technology is coming out on the market.” Sitting up straight, she added, “There is something
else though.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s possible that Interpol wants someone in here to keep an eye on you.”
He tapped his nose. “That thought had occurred to me as well.”
“That’s why I’m asking for immunity for any and all aspects of our work with the interns. I’m thinking
we might do this for a year to make Interpol happy, and then we’ll decide if it’s really worth doing.”
Remington nodded his agreement. “Will we have one of these blokes with us all the time?” He didn’t
relish having to constantly watch over his shoulder for a neophyte. He’d become rather used to Laura’s
abilities and the fact they could anticipate each other’s moves and thoughts.
“No. You might have a ‘lass’ instead.” She arched a brow. “We can try it for a while. I think we could
do this a couple of times a year and take time off in between. I don’t want to lose focus on what we do
here, but it would be a nice sideline and probably fun for you since you have an excuse to pull out those
rusty skills Daniel taught you.”
“Rusty? I think not.” He crossed his arms. “Fun? Dragging a complete amateur along to solve a case?”
“It’s no different from when you started.” She stifled her smile.
A single brow lifted. “I was eminently capable. A touch of your expert instruction was all I needed.
There is no comparison.”
“Think of it as a challenge, Mr. Steele.”
“A challenge?” He closed in on her, hovering where he could drop a kiss on her lips. “Exactly what are
you going to do to make this worth my while?”
“I’m bearing your child. Isn’t that enough?” she said with a perfectly straight face.
He froze, speechless for a moment; then a broad grin crossed his face. “That’s not playing fair, Mrs.
Steele.” He captured her mouth and plundered for a moment.
“When have you ever played fair?” she shot back in breathy tones.
He stood and touched the side of his nose. “Touché. So when does the first one arrive?”
“I’ll know more in the next few days. But probably by the end of the month.”
“Then we’d better be ready.”
Chapter Eight--Interlude
Five weeks later:
Johnny rubbed his forehead, shaking his head at the latest report. Interpol was closing in. He knew it
was only a matter of days before he was arrested. Damn O’Callaghan. If it hadn’t been for him, none
of this would be happening. His options were dwindling rapidly. Grey-blue eyes pinned his
assistant. “Riley, book a flight for me.
“Where to, sir.”
“Los Angeles.”
Over the past few weeks, Remington delighted in realizing that Laura took far more caution than he
might have insisted on if he’d tried to set limits on her. She became extraordinarily inventive in figuring
out surveillance techniques that circumvented the need for undercover and stealth work. Embracing
technology with a vengeance, she spent many afternoons with him figuring out how they could use the
ever-evolving “toys” that came on the market every few months.
For someone who wasn’t sure how much she had liked changing her name from “Holt” to “Steele,” the
fact was that she now garnered nearly as much attention as he did in public, and only a few hardheaded
men ever questioned her right to be in the agency. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the media in the past two
years that Remington Steele never introduced her as “my wife, Laura” but as “my partner, Laura Steele”
in reference to a case. He did the same in the office, forcing others to recognize her skills whether they
liked it or not. Except for the security clients which were handed directly to Remington, every client met
with her first, and she directed the progress of each case they took on. None of that had changed with
the onset of pregnancy, and since she was now free of the leg brace, she was back to doing legwork on
her own cases.
Nighttime work was out of the question, but she could serve as a lookout, staying in contact with
Remington and Kaleb via the new wires from the safety of the car or a nearby perch. Sandra didn’t like
this kind of operation, preferring the straight forward approach in the middle of the day or surveillance
work. Instead, she handled a great deal of the “bread and butter” work of the agency: obtaining evidence
for lawyers in divorce trials, usually involving photographs or paper trails proving adultery or finding
hidden assets. She and Mildred worked hand-in-hand on the latter.
Mildred discovered in the past two years that, as a Certified Public Accountant--leftover from her IRS
fraud squad days--as well as a private investigator, she was now considered an expert witness and was
often called upon by various attorneys to provide testimony regarding documents either she had
uncovered or they had provided. As such, she was less available for undercover work as the demands on
her time increased. She loved every second of it, feeling as if she was finally garnering the recognition
she deserved.
If Mildred was the brains in this part of the operation, Ian was her hands and Sandra her feet. The trio
was beginning to gel as a team much as Mildred, Remington and Laura had in the beginning.
Kaleb, however, was proving to be a quick learner and a fast thinker along the lines of Mr. and Mrs.
Steele. He had begun subbing for Laura whenever nighttime escapades were required. In the process,
Laura discovered two more things about her partnership with Remington. First, having his voice in her
ear, via the wires, kept their partnership intact while he worked--either alone or with Carter in tow. He
liked knowing there was another set of eyes on the outside, and she liked being able to keep track of
him. She’d sat at home biting her thumbnails exactly once before insisting they work out an alternative.
Second, she proved to be capable of thinking through the clues left on the scene nearly as well as if she
had been there. Remington already knew how to give her succinct, accurate descriptions, and Carter was
coming along rapidly. Listening to Mr. Steele describe a setting to Mrs. Steele fine-tuned his ability to see
pertinent details and link them together. And just as she had directed her partner to look for the Pitkin
paintings hidden in the bathroom, she often had the pair hunt for clues in unexpected places.
Carter learned a great deal just by listening to the banter between Mr. and Mrs. Steele, but out of
desperation in trying to understand their verbal shorthand, he’d begun renting the old movies they often
referenced.
Between cases, Mr. Steele was training Carter in the security business. After nearly two years, he was
handing over the plans and letting Kaleb sweat out the details of the setup. So far the young man had an
excellent handle on the basics, but inevitably, Remington could point out fine weaknesses. Sealing those
up was the extra element that gave the agency the top notch reputation it deserved. Only working
retrievals and experience would give Carter the insight he would need to find those cracks. Remington
still trusted no one else to make certain the final setup was complete on a security job.
At the same time, James Buchanan contacted Steele about sending the first of the Interpol trainees to the
agency. Remington passed him over to Laura to work out the details. Having been formally trained, she
had a good idea of what skills the students should possess and what could be taught to them at the
agency.
“What exactly will we be teaching, Laura?” he wondered late on a Tuesday afternoon after her third or
fourth conversation with Buchanan.
She leaned back and propped her feet on her desk. At ten weeks, her belly was rounding slightly, and
the monumental sleepiness was beginning to recede. They’d finally shared the news with Ian, Kaleb and
Sandra only that morning. Both men were chagrined when Sandra held out her hand, and they each had
to slap a twenty into it. The boys lost another five apiece to her when Mildred admitted to being in on
the news for several weeks already.
Laura picked up her notepad and pencil. “We’ll be teaching a way of thinking. We seem to have an
innate sense of looking deeper into a situation than most. You have a knack for personalities and
motives; I’m good at seeing connections and relationships.”
He leaned against her desk and crossed his arms. “So how do we teach someone how to think?”
“Exactly what we’ve done with Sandra and Kaleb. We coach; we review. We let them shadow us.
Buchanan’s giving us agents who have already had their training but haven’t been in the field yet. He
wants them to gain a little seasoning here while they learn what we--and more specifically, you--do. We
solve complex cases because we process information better than most.” She tapped her pencil on her
notepad. “I’ve been thinking about you and what makes you so different.”
“And?” he prompted when she paused.
“And some of it can’t be taught. Nothing will replace the years of training Daniel gave you at such a
young age. Not to mention that some of your abilities were developed as a defense mechanism as a
child; much of what you do is actually a part of your personality. But I think we can get our trainees to
develop an expanded awareness of the actual possibilities of a given situation and learn to think a little
faster on their feet. You’ll also be able to coach them through various personas. I imagine you’d catch a
false Frenchman faster than a real one would.”
“So if what I do is innate ability and Daniel’s training, where does yours come from?”
“I’m a math freak, remember? Analysis and logic is in my blood. I can’t turn that off any more than
you can stop sizing up people the moment you meet them. But that same analytical ability lets me break
down what you and I do into comprehensible increments, and I can teach that to someone else.
Basically, it’s what we’ve been doing with Sandra and Kaleb. They watch us as a team. Later, I break it
down for them. We’ve had a couple of years with Kaleb to work on this technique, and you can see
how well he’s doing as a detective.”
“True. Carter’s good. With your whispering in his ear, he’s better.”
Laura grinned and then propped her cheek on her knuckles. “What I haven’t figured out is how we can
get enough cases along the lines of what Interpol does to manufacture enough situations to provide
adequate training. We’ll only have each recruit for three to five months before Buchanan wants him or
her back.”
Remington scratched his chin. “I can do that.”
“Do what?”
“Manufacture enough situations. They’ve been taught the basics of undercover work, right?
“Yes.”
“So let me massage my contacts at the museums, and I’ll take them on a few retrievals.”
Laura raised her eyebrows. Remington’s abilities had come in handy on a new sideline of business he’d
developed since they’d married. Several of his contacts from his previous life wanted him to return
stolen items to the proper authorities--partially to clean up their storerooms along with their acts--and
partially to claim the money associated with returning certain kinds of artwork and gems to those
authorities. Finder’s fees could often be lucrative, and, as long as no one could prove that Remington
knew where to locate the items in question when he “ran across them,” he was getting away with it.
Since most of his contacts were in Europe, Remington and Laura usually made excuses to travel there
several times a year. The press had made much of several of those recoveries. Unsurprisingly, they
were now receiving quite a bit of legitimate recovery work from the various museums and collectors in
both Europe and the West Coast.
However, the rule Laura had laid down was she didn’t want to know which retrievals were legitimate and
which one were courtesy of old associates of Remington’s--and if she ever figured it out, he had to
promise to stop. Her husband had become extraordinarily adept at encouraging museum directors and
the like to hire Remington Steele Investigations to find particular items. Sometimes he let months pass
before “locating” the item in question. Laura went over every single one of these finds with a fine-
toothed comb and had yet to catch Remington. It kept them both on their toes and they relished the
challenge.
“Legit or not legit?” She was beginning to see where he was going with this.
“Ah, that’s for me to know and you to never find out,” he said slyly, reminding her of their long-standing
agreement. “They’ll have a chance to practice undercover work, nightwork and the rest in a somewhat
less dangerous setting than tracking down a drug dealer. Plus they’ll be doing it with minimal technology,
so they’ll have to use their brains. Then, whenever you do get a nice, juicy case that tests all of us, I can
bring the trainees to you. No matter where I am in a recovery, I can usually get clear within ten to
twelve hours at the outside.”
Laura nodded. “That could work. What will you do about backup though?”
He scratched his cheek, thinking it through. If the “recovery” was for an old friend wanting to return the
stolen goods for the finder’s fee, the risks would be negligible and backup unnecessary. The Interpol
agent would be getting good practice without knowing it was a game. In fact, Remington could set up the
“case” anyway he wanted to test the new agents. If the recovery was legitimate, then he would operate
under the normal routines Laura set up long ago. In which case, with an untested partner along, a
backup with more experience watching out for the team only made sense.
“I’ll take Kaleb when it doesn’t make sense for you to go along.”
Laura nodded. Carter was getting better each day. In a few years, she’d be struggling to keep him from
setting up his own agency. He was that good. “What are the chances you’ll be in Europe?”
“If I go there, it will have to be in the next couple of months. After that, I’ll work my contacts here. In
case you hadn’t noticed, we’re gaining a fair reputation in the recovery business locally. And I’d rather
not be away too much anyway.” He said the last as his eyes caressed her belly.
“Can’t imagine why,” she retorted. She thought she had a bead on what he had in mind: first taking the
trainees on a fake “recovery” so he could get an idea of their skills, then taking them on a legitimate one.
As long as she didn’t ask and couldn’t prove it, it actually made a great deal of sense. Plus Kaleb would
get a whole different kind of training than he would get here. She was certain Interpol didn’t need to
know that Remington Steele had made Kaleb Carter his protégé. If Buchanan caught wind of the young
man’s abilities, Interpol would snatch him up, and the Steeles would lose a bright addition to the agency.
“So how many of these trainees are we going to get?”
“One or two each time. We’re thinking teams of two to get partners used to working together, but that
would mean two extra bodies tagging along everywhere we go. It’s hard to be a detective with an
entourage.”
“I’d rather have only one.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Laura nixed the idea of two without a second thought.
“Laura, what exactly are we getting out of this?” Remington wanted to know.
She cocked her head and stretched with distinct nonchalance. “A very nice fee and an extra intern that
we don’t have to pay. If we choose to split bonuses or finder’s fees with the intern as we do our own
staff, it’s up to us. We can probably learn quite a bit about self-defense from them and get a leg up on
whatever technology is coming out on the market.” Sitting up straight, she added, “There is something
else though.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s possible that Interpol wants someone in here to keep an eye on you.”
He tapped his nose. “That thought had occurred to me as well.”
“That’s why I’m asking for immunity for any and all aspects of our work with the interns. I’m thinking
we might do this for a year to make Interpol happy, and then we’ll decide if it’s really worth doing.”
Remington nodded his agreement. “Will we have one of these blokes with us all the time?” He didn’t
relish having to constantly watch over his shoulder for a neophyte. He’d become rather used to Laura’s
abilities and the fact they could anticipate each other’s moves and thoughts.
“No. You might have a ‘lass’ instead.” She arched a brow. “We can try it for a while. I think we could
do this a couple of times a year and take time off in between. I don’t want to lose focus on what we do
here, but it would be a nice sideline and probably fun for you since you have an excuse to pull out those
rusty skills Daniel taught you.”
“Rusty? I think not.” He crossed his arms. “Fun? Dragging a complete amateur along to solve a case?”
“It’s no different from when you started.” She stifled her smile.
A single brow lifted. “I was eminently capable. A touch of your expert instruction was all I needed.
There is no comparison.”
“Think of it as a challenge, Mr. Steele.”
“A challenge?” He closed in on her, hovering where he could drop a kiss on her lips. “Exactly what are
you going to do to make this worth my while?”
“I’m bearing your child. Isn’t that enough?” she said with a perfectly straight face.
He froze, speechless for a moment; then a broad grin crossed his face. “That’s not playing fair, Mrs.
Steele.” He captured her mouth and plundered for a moment.
“When have you ever played fair?” she shot back in breathy tones.
He stood and touched the side of his nose. “Touché. So when does the first one arrive?”
“I’ll know more in the next few days. But probably by the end of the month.”
“Then we’d better be ready.”
Chapter Eight--Interlude