1: License to Steele
"Do you pack a rod, Miss Holt?" Ben Pearson asked as he stared at the back of the limo driver's head, trying not to think about a certain bright young lady's silky chestnut locks. His fingers tingled at the thought of twining them firmly through the teaming strands...
Her soft laugh brings him back to reality. "You've seen too many movies, Mr. Pearson. No, I don't 'pack a rod'." She glanced over at Mr. Pearson and finished, "I've never found the need for one."
"Pity," he replied, his tone even, unemotional.
"Why?" she asked curiously, a smile hinting at the corners of her mouth.
"The courier who smuggled those gems out of South Africa-" he began in the same emotionless tone.
"What about him?" she interrupted, her eyes never leaving his face. She couldn't help watch his full lips as he spoke, wondering what it would feel like to kiss them, to be kissed by them.
"He was brutally murdered by the two gentlemen behind us in that blue Mercedes." Mr. Pearson pointed behind them with his right hand before Laura turned to look at the car. Mr. Pearson quickly picked up the telephone and asked. "May I use your phone?"Laura stared at the headlights of the car behind them before she turned back, concerned as he stated, "It's a local call-" He spun the rotary dial on the mobile handset and said, "Mobile operator? This is T-7328. I'd like the police." Laura slid down in the seat slowly as Pearson watched in amusement. "Yes, it's definitely an emergency."
Laura leaned closer, speaking softly. "Why are they following US?" she asks nervously.
"Police? I'd like to report a stolen vehicle. Blue Mercedes 380SL. License number-" Mr. Pearson turned and read it from the car as Laura covers her face. "1DRO373. The last time I saw it, it was traveling-" he paused, unaware of where they were.
"East on Sunset," Laura informed him, "just past Dougheny."
"East on Sunset, just past Dougheny," Mr. Pearson repeated. "Please hurry. I had some medicine in the back seat for my grandmother-" Laura stared at him once again. "If she doesn't receive it-" He smiled at the officer's reply, "Bless you."
He hangs up, still smiling and noted Laura's expression. With a quick waggle of his eyebrows and a shrug, he said, "Everyone needs a little added incentive now and then."
Laura sighed as she folded her arms, unsure of what was happening.
"In the light of this disturbing development, I suggest we change our strategy," he suggested, watching her face.
"In what way?" Laura asked, still slightly worried about their current situation.
Mr. Pearson looked at her, a sly smile on his lips as he explained, "Use a decoy, then slip the gems in when no one's looking."
Laura, surprised, replied, "You're very good at this sort of thing, Mr. Pearson." His lips were looking more and more appealing, his blue eyes mesmerizing.
"Have I read your mind, Miss Holt?" Mr. Pearson asked, watching her face, her amber eyes sparkling in the dim light.
"Let's just say it's been considered," she replied quietly.
"So are you," he said cryptically as the sound of a police siren is heard.
Laura, confused and distracted, asked "What?"
"Good at this sort of thing." I wonder what else she's good at, he thought. He looked back, chuckled and smiled when he saw the car surrounded by the police. Laura sat up higher in the seat and looked behind them, too. "Rather reaffirms one's faith in the local constabulary," Mr. Pearson stated. Laura smiled and folded her arms as Mr. Pearson looked back again.
"So, where can I drop you now?" she asked.
"I was hoping you could show me a little more of this fine city. Some place quiet, intimate maybe, where we can get a bite to eat. A glass of wine perhaps?" he asked innocently, al his eyes held a mischievous twinkle.
Laura thought for a minute, fingering the hollow of her neck before she replied, "I might know of a place. Small. Quiet. Intimate." She leaned toward the driver and said, "Take a left at the light, and head down Benedict Canyon to Mulholland." She leaned back against the seat, put her finger to her bottom lip and asked, "Do you care for Italian or French cuisine, Mr. Pearson?"
Mr. Pearson watched her with fascination as she absentmindedly rubbed her bottom lip, the tip of her tongue darting out just before she captured her lip with her teeth, nervously. He swallowed hard before replying, "That depends."
Laura's eyes widened as she replied in a husky tone, "Depends on what?"
Mr. Pearson leaned toward her, capturing her jaw in his soft hand. He stroked her cheekbone with his thumb as he whispered, "If you taste better," just before he locked his lips over hers.
Laura tensed with his initial contact then quickly relaxed, her eyes fluttering. She leaned back and looked into his blue eyes as she said, "How very bold of you, Mr. Pearson," before she covered his lips again.