Steeling a
Dream
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
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Steele
Holting On
Chapter 1 The Ending
Irish weather in the very early spring sometimes left a lot to be desired. Today was typical: cloudy, with temperatures made colder by the rain. A black hearse, flanked by Russian soldiers, waited in the driveway of Ashford Castle. With stoic formality, four of the uniformed men lifted the coffin and inserted it inside. One man closed the doors while the others saluted in respect. The soldiers returned to their own car and followed as the hearse pulled away, leaving only three people standing in the drizzle. All three had their hands in their pockets, although the two women turned to the man in the middle as if in choreographed unison.
The man looked down at the woman on his left. “I want to stay here until he’s buried, Laura. If you need to go back to the States because of the agency, I understand. I’ll be along in a few days.” Again he stared off into the distance, as if he could still see the hearse in the evening light.
“I’m not going anywhere, Mr. Steele.” Laura frowned at him. Did he really think I would? He's just lost a parent, for Heaven’s sake.
“Thank you, Miss Holt.” He gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek as he did Mildred, the woman standing on his other side, before wandering off into the gardens with his hands in his pockets, lost in his own thoughts.
Miss Holt? What happened to Mrs. Steele? Now Laura had something else to worry about.
*****
It was midnight before he returned to the castle--and the bedroom they were supposed to share. She waited on the sofa, staring into the fire.
“I, uh, I’m going to take a shower.” His voice was stilted and awkward.
Laura nodded and let him go, still watching the flames in the fireplace dance along the logs. She was glad he'd duucked into the bathroom and had no doubts his hurry was to avoid conversation. Where do we go from here? She had entertained the hope that their time in Ireland would allow them the chance to make some decisions about their so-called marriage, the agency, and their on-again-off-again relationship. But once more, life intervened and threw up a roadblock. At times like this, it seemed to be a dozen stories tall and impossibly wide.
Quite a while later, Remington sat beside her, startling her out of her thoughts. It didn’t take much to see the strain in his handsome face. As much as she longed to run her hands along his bare chest, visible where the dressing gown gaped open, she wanted much more to ease the stress from his eyes and to soothe his heart. Lightly, she ran her fingers through his hair and tugged his head down to rest on her shoulder. Later, when the fire burned low, she shifted so that his head rested against her breast. Holding him that way felt good. I hope it helps.
Even breathing moments later clued Laura in that Remington was out like a light. Had that ever happened before? Certainly, she had dozed in his arms more than once. While she tried to decide, she closed her own eyes--letting let her mind drift until sleep claimed her as well.
The morning was uncomfortable. The words between them still wouldn’t come, and Remington escaped the bedroom rather quickly, leaving Laura frustrated at her inability to cross the divide. She had breakfast with only Mildred as her vanishing partner had already skipped out and bolted from the house.
“How’s he doing this morning, Mrs. Steele?”
Drooping a little with sadness, Laura shrugged. “I don’t know. We ... we didn’t talk much at all. I have to tell you, I can’t remember a time that we couldn’t at least yell at each other. I ... I don’t know what to say to him.”
Mildred shrewdly eyed the younger woman. “It seems to me that you two need time to work this all out. I decided last night that I’m going home today. I’ll handle the agency. Until you and Mr. Steele have some answers, there’s no point in your coming home.”
Laura crossed her arms and looked miserable. “I had hoped you would stay.”
With a no-nonsence attitude, Mildred sternly reprimanded her. “No, I’m not running interference for you two. Either it’s time to make this little dance work, or it’s time to let it go, Mrs. Steele. You’re both miserable and Mr. Steele is grieving. That’s no way to live, kiddo. Mickeline is taking me to the airport in a couple of hours.”
“Mickeline?”
“Yeah, he’s a nice fellow. He wants to see me off personally.” She leaned over conspiratorially. “He keeps asking when I’ll be coming back.”
Laura tried to work up a smile and nodded her head. “I’ll call you in a couple of days. Maybe we can get something worked out by then.” The disbelief in Mildred's face only reminded her that the pile of issues standing between her and Mr. Steele had grown large and wide in the last few weeks.
Once Laura saw Mildred and Mickeline off to the airport, she hunted for Remington . A passing gardener thought he’d seen the young lord walking down the road earlier. After searching for the afternoon and failing to find him, she sighed and returned to the castle, left alone with her thoughts.
Remington returned deep in the night, long after Laura had given up and crawled between the sheets. This time he lay on the bed beside Laura and slept with his arm wrapped around her. And like the morning before, he escaped, but not before she realized he was there. Miserable and confused, Laura spent another day on her own, contemplating their lives.
*****
During this time, Remington struggled with his emotions. Torn between hurt, anger and love for both Daniel and Laura, he felt somewhat betrayed by both of them for different reasons.
Daniel had only confessed to being his real father hours before dying, leaving Remington confused and angry at the deception that had lasted for twenty years. He was grateful that he'd had at least a few happy moments with his father before he died but felt guilty about still being angry with him. He had few answers to a hundred questions.
He reflected over the angry young lad he’d been and certainly understood his father’s reasons for not telling him of their relationship at that point. He probably would have run fast and hard enough to get himself killed in the process. But it didn’t help to remember that one of Daniel’s perennial failings was his constant evasion of reality. Why live with a painful truth when a delightful little lie will soothe things over? It was one of the things that both intrigued and annoyed Remington throughout the years.
He tried long strolls in the gardens to quell his emotions but found little solace in the process. He only knew that he didn’t dare take out his frustration on Laura for fear of breaking apart what little relationship they had at this point.
It took most of the second day to understand why he felt as if he were lost at sea. His normally solid Laura, the one person he could count on and he knew to be as predictable as the sun, had blown with the wind these last two months. Since the nightmare with the Immigration and Naturalization Service, there had been none of the teasing, flirting and good-natured rivalry that marked their day-to-day relationship. Laura lived at the edge of her emotions, snapping at him for the least little thing and giving neither of them room to breathe. He wasn’t any better, finding himself saying and doing things that he knew would make her angry.
In retrospect, he realized now that he had wanted her to fight for him and their relationship, to know that it meant a great deal to her. Instead, she conducted a flirtation right under his nose that made him see red.
Their friendship and quasi-love affair had taken a hard beating. Hardly three months ago he told her he was ready to commit to her. He knew Laura was struggling with accepting him, but he’d had the definite feeling she was coming around. At this moment, though, he wasn’t sure if she even wanted him in the picture.
He realized that he had abused her trust, terribly. More than once in the past year, Laura had placed her absolute faith in him and fought for him, even to the point of putting her agency on the line--and then he failed to place the same level of trust in her. No wonder she was angry when she saw him running another scam to get himself out of trouble. Hadn’t he learned that while Laura took the hard road, it usually worked out for the best? Oh, he usually found a way to sneak in a shortcut or interesting detour, but the path was generally hers.
Yet, he knew Laura. Would she have really committed to him--unconditionally? He didn’t think so. And therein lay the crux of the problem.
Still, again last night, he couldn’t resist holding her close. She was his touchstone, whether or not she knew it.
*****
The idle time forced Laura to confront her own emotions. She was very good at avoiding thinking about her heart, but freed from dealing with the agency for the time being and with Remington off to his own devices, she had little choice but to face her own feelings head-on.
She knew that she was incredibly angry with Remington for not trusting her with the truth about the INS. Granted, the immigration issue was a very personal one to him, and beyond the fact that it could affect her agency, she had honestly thought that they could confide those kinds of things to each other by now.
But then she came to a couple of startling realizations. First, despite what she told him, she would have married him, quite for real, to keep him from being deported. She had no idea how they would work things out, but she couldn’t imagine him not being in her life. Laura couldn’t think of a single solution that would not have involved her saying some sort of vows. At least she felt better about a quasi-marriage on a tuna boat. She wasn’t sure if she would be happy or disappointed to discover the marriage was real.
The second revelation dawned the next day. It was nearly evening when she finally came to the understanding that most of her anger was directed at herself, for the simple act of falling in love. She had promised herself to never risk heartbreak again--and that promise lay in tatters at her feet. With that came the realization that it didn’t matter whether or not Remington loved her in return. If he left today, her heart would be broken anyhow. It was simply too late not to fall in love.
She was smart enough to accept that she couldn’t fall out of love. Not now. No matter what he might do, some part of her heart would always be with him, just as it was with her father. On the heels of that thought came a new truth: the only way to avoid a broken heart was for them to be irrevocably in love. Was it too late for that?
*****
When Remington came back from his wanderings long after dark again, Laura wasn't in their bedroom. Unable to sleep without her, he'd wandered the silent castle until he found her curled up on the chaise lounge amongst all the musty tomes of the library. One of her arms dangled off the edge, her fingers nearly touching the floor.
Eying her, he decided it was too far to carry her to their bed. Instead, he found a blanket in a chest and pulled a pillow off the sofa. He stretched out on the floor next her so that her hand rested on his heart.
*****
In the morning, Laura peered over the edge of the chaise to find Remington blinking sleepily at her from the floor. She squeaked when he pulled her down on top of him and fairly ravaged her mouth, causing her body to hum. Just as quickly, he rolled them over, lifted himself off and stood before she could lodge a rotest. With all the élan he’d ever demonstrated, he helped her to her feet, tucked her arm in his and escorted her to breakfast despite their obvious lack of morning toilette.
It was those little things about him that fascinated Laura. He always kept her slightly off balance. Hope sprang up in Laura’s heart. Maybe it wasn’t too late.
For the first time in weeks, they enjoyed each other’s company. Over eggs and bacon, Remington cautiously suggested that they drive into Galway for lunch. Laura accepted just as guardedly, but with the stipulation that they at least shower and change clothes. Remington bit his lip to avoid the obvious risqué remark, but she saw it dancing in his eyes anyway and had to look away to hide her own small grin.
The pair spent a pleasant day together taking in some of the more historic sites around the city. Remington always made a wonderful tour guide, and Laura was an avid listener as they climbed staircases and peeked into long-unused corridors of the abbeys and castles they visited.
Slowly, they recovered their bearings and by the end of the day, they were gently bantering. They made light jokes and teasing comments that did much to restore their confidence in one another. From time to time, something would remind Remington of Danie. She did her best to know when he needed a moment to reflect and when to cajole him out of his suddenly somber mood.
He held her hand all the way home.
*****
It still took another two days before Remington approached her at breakfast. He took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. Here we go, mate. It’s now or never. “Laura, we need to talk.”
“I know. But let’s take a walk while we do it.”
Outside the castle, the air was brisk and the sun was warm, perfect for a stroll. The couple headed for the expansive lawns. Still holding her hand, Remington pulled Laura into his embrace. Breathe, old chap. Say the words. She needs them. “You must know by now that I love you.”
“I do.” Her face lit up, stunned though she was by his outright admission. “I love you. I have for a long time.”
Apparently, he had needed them, too. I didn’t realize. “You’ve captivated me since the day I introduced myself to you as Ben Pearson.”
“It was the magnum of champagne that did it for me.” She smiled in remembrance.
“Good to know. I’ll try it again next time.”
She cocked her head and sent him a flirtatious smile. “Only with me.”
He touched her forehead with his middle finger and drew a lock of hair to the side. “I ... I need to explain about Clarissa.” Remington began walking again, tucking her arm in his. Laura crinkled her brow.
“When Immigration contacted me, I simply had no idea what to do and I panicked. I thought that marrying Clarissa would buy me time to make things right with you. I never realized I would have to pretend to be married to her and share quarters, certainly not for two years.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m still afraid of being deported and destroying all sorts of things: I said that I would never leave you, and I would be breaking that promise--not to mention the havoc it would wreak in the agency and on whatever slim chance we have to be together.
“Laura, I told you some time ago that I was ready to commit to you. But I never wanted you to feel that you had to marry me. I still don’t know if I could have asked you to marry me for any reason other than I love you and want to share my life with you. If I thought for one moment that you would have believed me, it might have been different. I haven’t stayed these past years because I wanted to get you into the sack. Although that part is rather, hmmmm, shall we say, an intriguing concept?” He kissed the back of her hand but kept it clasped in his.
They walked quietly for a moment while Laura thought. “What is Clarissa to you?”
Remington hesitated before answering, “She’s a sweet girl that I’ve helped out from time to time. She owed me a favor.”
“You’ve helped her? How?”
“Occasionally--in her line of work--she’s been in a tight spot here and there. She knows she can count on me.”
“Why? I mean, not why can she count on you, but why do you help her?”
Remington laid a finger aside his nose and scratched. “Because I keep hoping she’ll find something better to do. It’s a hard life, Laura. Eventually that kind of life will take its toll, and she’ll end up on drugs or dead.” He walked quietly for a moment. “It’s one of the things you learn on the streets. A favor here and there can pay off down the road. She owed me one and I tried to collect.”
Laura abruptly stopped walking. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but I will. Are you sleeping with her?”
“No, I never have.”
“Why not?”
He frowned at her question. “For the same reason I haven’t slept with anyone in a while. Good Lord, what was I supposed to do? Take some woman out, court her long enough to seduce her and not think of you? Do you think I can kiss her, caress her, sleep with her and go back to the office to flirt with you and take you to dinner Friday night? I’ve not had many standards in my life, but I’ve never done that to you. Yes, I’ve taken women out, mostly to make you a bit jealous, but I’ve not slept with anyone in quite some time.” Remington’s irritation showed in the tightness of his jaw.
Somewhat bitterly, he added, “There have been times when you have flirted and kissed and left me so damned hard that a cold shower in the Arctic couldn’t cool me down. But I’ve played your game because I’m too damned in love with you.”
*****
Laura wasn’t sure what to think. She had always assumed Remington had his flings, and quite a while ago she had resolved not to think of it. To find out that he had been chaste for some time was a revelation. Slowly, she resumed their walk and ducked her head in embarrassment. “I’m always underestimating you, Remington, and I’m rather ashamed to admit it. Perhaps I bought into your fascinating man-about-town persona a little too well.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
“Ah, whew ... all right.” She glanced at her friend with a hint of determination and humor. “You charm me. You always have. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted: intelligent, witty, handsome, caring beyond belief. You respect who I am and what I do.” Growing serious, she added, “Quite frankly you terrify me--no, that’s not right--I’m terrified by how much I need you. It cuts right into my determination to be an independent woman. All I’ve ever wanted is to stand on my own.”
“Ah, Laura, all I’ve ever wanted is you,” Remington sighed.
Laura was quiet for several minutes as they crossed between the verdant lawns and sat on a stone bench in the elegantly manicured gardens. Then she spoke. “I believe you now. I don’t know that I would have believed you even a week ago. I was so angry with you. I couldn’t believe you chose Clarissa. When have I ever not been there when you needed me? And I was there for you. You only had to ask.”
“I know. That’s my failing. I should have trusted you, but I’m afraid of a marriage where we carry on as things were. I can’t bear to live with you and not have you ... and Laura, I mean more than just sexually, although that’s part of it. I need your heart.”
“It’s yours, Remington.”
He smiled as he heard her say his name without thinking for the first time.
Laura looked into the sky. “I’d rather not admit it, but you’re right about not wanting to marry me under false pretenses. I probably would have let things carry on the way they were. If it weren’t for the past few days--” She shook her head, unable to say the words. “I’ve let something that happened to my parents, and later with Wilson, to control my life. I’ve been so afraid that if you really knew me, you would leave. But all these years, every time I let some of the precocious, cocky and adventurous Laura out, you’ve been thrilled. I think if I had performed that silly fan dance for you, you would have swept me off my feet and not let me out of the hotel room for a week.”
“You know me too well,” Remington murmured.
“Frankly, I was expecting Wilson to do that, but I shocked him too much. Nothing shocks you, mostly because you’ve either seen it or done it already.” Laura stared morosely at the ground.
Remington tipped her chin up. “I haven’t been in love like this before. I haven’t had someone willing to sacrifice everything she is for me. I haven’t had a name and a home before. You’ve given me those things, and they are more precious to me than any gem I ever lifted.” Remington pressed a tender kiss to Laura’s forehead before capturing her lips in sweet passion that promised a great deal more.
With no little regret, Laura pulled away and stood to resume their walk. “Think we can put that whole mess behind us?"
“Indeed we can, love.”
Warmth flooded her from head to toe at the endearment. “Okay, then, my turn. About Tony.” Remington stiffened perceptibly. “Tony was my way of punishing you for Clarissa. I encouraged him when I really wanted things to work with you. I was angry with you and wanted to make you jealous.
“You succeeded quite nicely there.”
“I tried. Tony believes that you don’t really want me, and I’m staying with you just because of INS. I’m not sure how to convince him otherwise.”
With another fist to his bloody jaw, if necessary. Remington started to speak, hesitated, and then continued, “Did you feel something for him?”
Laura considered her words before answering. “Remington, you will understand that there is simple and there is complicated. Tony is simple. Sort of like a cheap chardonnay. You? You’re a fine red wine--deep, rich, complex--and the taste keeps teasing your palate long after you’ve drunk. The cheap chardonnay might seem like a good idea, but once you’ve rolled it around on your palate, you spit it out and go back to the red, even though the red affects your taste for anything else. I felt betrayed by you, and Tony was there for a moment, but only for a moment.” She paused and then added, “If it helps, I’ll tell you that I never even considered sleeping with him.” Laura fell silent.
“I never thought you did,” replied Remington; then he too grew quiet. They walked along the pebbled path to the walled garden, listening to the chirping birds and the blowing wind.
At last he spoke again, “Perhaps we can put that mess behind us as well.” He squeezed her hand and then placed his arm around her shoulders as they walked on. Abruptly he stopped and faced Laura. “Did you mean it about not carrying on as we were?”
She flushed, feeling the heat crawl up her face. “Yes.”
“You’ll love me ... in every sense of the word?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.” She sounded sure of herself now.
Suddenly, Remington looked as nervous as a sixteen-year-old virgin. He swallowed hard to keep his composure. “Well, well, well, it appears that we have some plans to make.”
Laura threw him a wide smile and danced a few steps backwards toward the castle. “What are we waiting for?” She broke into a run, leaving him standing dumb-founded on the lawn.
He caught up with her halfway back, claiming her for a searing kiss that left them breathless with anticipation. She cleverly ducked out of his embrace and led him on a merry chase over the lawn and through the gardens where they exchanged quick kisses and caresses that further cemented their need for each other.
By the time they reached the castle, Remington gasped for breath and begged Laura to stop. Giggling, she collapsed onto the chair in the drawing room, fanning herself with her hand. He slumped against the doorway, but the light in his blue eyes dazzled her.
When he recovered, he approached her and kissed the back of her hand as if he were wearing the most formal of dress attire. “Miss Holt, might I suggest a hearty lunch and a period of rest this afternoon? The evening promises to be a long and delightful one. If one might presume on your time, I’d like to meet you in the foyer at eight this evening.”
“And how should I dress, Mr. Steele?”
“Casual will do. It is the country.”
“Certainly, Mr. Steele. If I may take my leave to begin my preparations?”
He pulled her to her feet. “Of course, Miss Holt. My pleasure.” He admired her sensual strut all the way out the door, his heart pounding in double-time.
Laura didn’t think she would sleep, but the huge lunch the servants had prepared at their lordship’s request lulled her into a light doze.
*****
Remington stood over the bed watching her breathe. The next time she sleeps, it will be after I’ve had her. Without thinking, he said a small prayer. Please God, let us make this work. Virtuously covering her with a blanket, he stretched out on top of it and laid his arm across her waist. Never again. It was his last thought for a long time.
*****
She woke first, wholly unsurprised to find him there; after all, every night for the past week she’d found him next to her in some form or fashion. A frission of excitement bubbled up. An enormous part of her wanted to wake up Remington in the most delicious way. But with iron-willed suppression, she told her libido to wait. One thing was for sure, her Mr. Steele knew how to draw romance out of even the most benign of occasions, and they had waited far too long for just a quick dip in the pool.
She did indulge herself by unabashedly looking at him while he slept. She admired his bare feet, noting the long toes and neatly trimmed nails. She giggled to herself, thinking of the old adage about long feet. Biting her lip, she let her gaze wander up his legs, thinking the denim manufacturers should pay him for advertising. Long, slim and perfectly fitted at the hips, the jeans hinted at the man hidden underneath. Down girl. You can look, but you can’t touch. She half-wished he was lying on his stomach so she could admire his rear, but since he wasn’t, she contented herself with speculating about the package lying tantalizingly under the zipper. Over the years, she had encountered it just often enough to know that the man carried a highly lethal weapon. She flushed. Oh Lord, you’ve got to stop, Laura. It’s just a few more hours.
Wrenching her gaze upward, she smiled at the half-unbuttoned shirt he wore. Little curls of black hair peeked through the open vee, and she had to clasp her hands together to keep from playing with them. It was a damned good thing he wore shirts and ties at the office. On the occasions he dispensed with the tie and opened his shirt there, she generally had to avoid him outright. At first, she didn’t realize he knew how attractive she found it, but after the first few occasions, she had caught his sly smirk. He loved seeing her get flustered by the view.
She let her eyes travel up his throat, across his full lips, and then she blushed from head to toe. Remington’s blue eyes were open, and he had been watching her perusal.
******
He had awakened when he felt her roll over to her side, but she was so busy taking in the view that he stayed silent, watching the emotions and desire play on her face. To see her unguarded expressions was a rare gift indeed, and he rather thought he might treasure this moment.
He slid his hand through her silky hair. Cupping the back of her head, he held her in place while he leaned in to brush his lips against hers. She leaned in to deepen the kiss, but he drifted away and rolled off the bed. He flashed her a wide, charming smile. “Anticipation, love, is everything. I’ll see you at eight.”
Two pillows, one of which connected with his bum, followed him out the door.
*****
At eight o’clock sharp, Laura paced in the foyer. This was the fifth outfit she’d settled on in the last hour and she hoped it would be appropriate. Casual, he had said. At the moment she hated the word. Casual jeans? Casual slacks? Casual skirt and blouse? She drew the line at the skirt, not interested in wrestling with pantyhose this evening. That line of thinking caused her to eventually pick black slacks and a white and silver sweater that showed off the natural red highlights in her hair which she had left long and loose and without even a pin to hold it back.
The glass of wine Remington left on the bathroom counter did little to calm her nerves. Any soothing qualities she might have enjoyed were countered by the fact he had slipped in unnoticed while she was singing ABBA’s “Mamma Mia” in the shower. Anticipation again. That and a heavy dose of mortification had her rubbing her own arms in the foyer.
Remington left her waiting for fifteen solid minutes while he put the final touches on the scene he was setting. Then he took a deep breath and strolled down the staircase.
“I always thought the girl was supposed to make the grand entrance and be fashionably late,” Laura quipped. She wondered how long he had been watching her. Apparently long enough to change into black slacks and turtleneck as well, topped by a dark gray and black sweater. In the past year, he had developed a habit of dressing in colors complimentary to hers. Yum, was all she could think.
“Next time it will be your turn.” Remington’s cultured accent echoed as he descended the stairs. Laura met him at the bottom and laced her fingers with his before touching his mouth lightly with hers. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Not particularly.” Too many butterflies in her tummy.
“Thank God.” He pulled her to him, fastening his mouth to hers. Remington found himself having serious thoughts about christening the staircase. He forced himself to slow down and take a couple of steps back up the stairs. “Come with me, Laura,” he coaxed as he took her hand.
“I will, Remington.” Hand in hand, they ascended the stairs together.
Laura was dazzled by the bedroom. In just the few minutes while she paced the foyer, Remington had set dozens of white candles all over the room. The flickering candlelight danced in counterpoint to the roaring flames in the fireplace. Light from the moon streamed through the windowpanes, landing on the bed before dripping to the floor. The light from the single lamp by the doorway was wholly unnecessary.
“Like it?” Remington said from behind her.
“It’s beautiful. More than beautiful.” She turned in his arms. “It’s perfect.”
Remington pulled the lamp cord, drenching Laura in darkness and candlelight. His hands slid into her auburn hair, pulling her in for another sweet, savoring kiss while her fingers stroked his neck and toyed with the black strands of hair curling over his collar.
For years, each of them had fantasized about this moment, this precious point in time where their partnership took a final, quirky twist from friends to lovers. From the moment they had met, they’d acknowledged the instant attraction and simmering passion underlying every touch and every word. The pair danced pretty steps around each other as they became friends, then partners, and now tonight, at long last, lovers.
Many, many times in the past, she fought the intense passions he aroused in her. But not tonight. Tonight she was his and she melted under warm lips and elegant hands. While one of those hands stayed tangled in her hair, the other slid firmly down her spine to her hip. Then the man she loved for so long dipped under her knees and drew her firmly into in his arms and carried her the short distance to the enormous bed in the master’s suite of Ashford Castle.
“Laura,” Remington’s blue eyes sparkled as he gave her a roguish grin, “I never quite thought this day would come.”
“Hmmm. Me neither.” Her body hummed as she watched him yank off the sweater and toss it on a nearby chair before stretching out full length beside her, making contact at the breast, hip and intertwining a leg with hers. “Before we get too far along, just what do you want me to call you? Harry?” Laura quirked up a brow, a habit she picked up from him long ago. She had wondered all afternoon if he would prefer the name Daniel always used.
Very seriously, he dropped a kiss in her hair. “You gave me the only name I ever wanted to keep, Laura.”
“Love me then, Remington,” Laura murmured, raising her mouth to his.
And he did. As a child of the streets, a con artist and a thief, he learned to watch people and to judge their emotions and reactions within a hairbreadth. Seduction was merely another aspect of that skill. Now he delighted in demonstrating what he had learned over the years on Laura’s wickedly slim form. His hands skimmed down her body and back again. He deepened his kiss, slipping his tongue inside to tangle with hers and withdrawing again to nibble on her lips.
Fire ignited Laura’s body, and she kissed him back with equal fervor. She felt his muscles flex as she slid her hands along his back before she dragged them through his hair. Remington pressed his lips to the hollow of her collarbone as his hands slid under her sweater and pulled it over her head. Laura tried to shove his turtleneck away, but he distracted her long enough with another deep, fiery kiss to pin her wrists above her head with one hand while the other roamed freely across the swatch of black silk covering her breasts.
“Remington, please--” She meant for him to let her hands go, but the words stuck in her throat. Tremors zipped through her when he tightened his grip.
“Of course, Laura.” He circled her nipple with his free hand and then lightly laved it through the silk. As the fabric dampened and heated, Laura arched under Remington as shocks darted through her body and made her ache. He turned his attention to the other breast, again wetting the fabric and licking lightly. As Laura squirmed, he changed tactics and sucked deeply while stroking her body from waist to thigh and back again. She twisted and moaned as he laved generously, teasing and tasting as he sent quickening shocks into her core. When her hands clutched his and she arched her back, he suckled her breast deeply, taking her just to the breaking point before abruptly stopping and blowing lightly across her peaked nipple.
Now she fully understood just how much restraint he had shown her over the years and exactly what skills he had at his disposal. She’d suspected. She couldn’t believe he had her so close to the edge, and his hands had hardly made it south of her waistline. Sometimes, I can be such an idiot. “Don’t you dare leave me hanging,” she ordered. She tried to pull away again, but he held her firmly.
“But Laura, we’ve got all the time in the world for once. It’s just not the kind of thing that needs to be rushed. Besides,” he grinned lasciviously, “you made me wait.”
She sighed. “I guess I asked for that.”
In answer, he swirled his tongue across her lips and dove into the kiss while she tried not to move, despite the fact that every inch of her skin was sensitized and burning to be touched. And again, even slower than before, he traced his tongue down her neck, paying special attention to the freckles scattered across her breast and shoulders.
The sight of those dappled marks filled Remington with unholy glee. In four years, he could count on one hand the number of times Laura wore an outfit where they could really be seen. The first time he danced with her, she wore a red dress with nary a strap across her shoulders, leaving every mark on display. Since then, each time he caught a peek in the open vee of her shirt or the occasional scoop neckline, he remembered how lovely she looked with the spattering of freckles dashed across her. He nipped lightly at them before resuming his path to her breasts. Again he teased and tortured the responsive peaks, but this time he suckled deeply and long, pushing her right over the edge.
He leaned on his elbow so he could watch her, reveling in the shocks coursing through her body. His own throbbed in response. Keen to demonstrate his devotion, he pressed one hand to himself in hopes that he could stifle the pressure long enough to make this a night to remember. What he wanted to do was drag her up against the nearest wall and pound into her over and over again. But if Daniel had drummed anything into his skull, it was to be a gentleman, and a true gentleman gave his partner pleasure time and again before taking his own.
Of course, this was assuming that your partner desired a passive seduction where the man did all the work. Laura was neither an innocent nor carelessly experienced, and she considered herself intelligent and creative. Once she recovered from her first orgasm at Remington’s hands, she unlocked the ardor for him she'd stashed away for all those years.
When he shifted to kiss her neck, she pulled her hands free and used her martial arts training to flip him onto his back and land astride his body. As she settled onto his hips, his stiffness pressed firmly into her heat, and Remington had to close his eyes briefly as his shaft twitched--hard. Slow up a bit, mate. He tried to visualize a calming scene, but having Laura clad in only a wispy black bra while she straddled him scrambled his brains. When she began rocking against him, his mind stuttered, and all the blood rushed south.
His hands came up to caress her waist and to slip a strap off her shoulder. Impatient, she reached back to divest herself of her bra. Startled, he smiled up at her. “Can’t wait a bit, can you?”
“Just want you to keep up the pace, Mr. Steele.”
He hummed a bit and leaned up to kiss her throat. “I’ll be doing that, love.” With a flick of the fingers, Remington loosened the catch. He pulled the damp lingerie from her and tossed it to the side.
Laura stilled completely, her eyes growing wide at hearing the endearment again. But his arousal brought her back to reality, and she shoved his turtleneck up and over his head. He helped her by giving it one last tug that flexed his pecs, and her eyes gleamed while she drew her hands down his firmly-muscled torso.
She pressed her lips to the furred chest and rubbed her face in the black hair. “Mmmm, I’ve wanted to do that for ever so long.” She raked her unpainted nails softly across his nipples. His pectoral muscles danced and twitched, and he grew even harder when she drew her tongue across each one in turn.
Remington’s efforts to stem his pleasure were increasingly less successful as Laura rocked against him and rubbed her slender naked torso along his. She leaned over to shove away the last of his shirt from his wrist when he took a pale breast into his mouth and rimmed her nipple with his tongue, causing her to nearly collapse over him. He yanked at her slacks until they came free and then slid his hands into her soaked black panties. He lifted her until she straddled him again.
She bit her lips as his fingers slipped and glided, then finally pressed against that tangled knot of nerves. He plucked her like a violin string while she chanted his name. She gave that up as the pleasure peaked and her legs tightened in a vice-like grip.
Remington pulled Laura to him as she shuddered. He couldn’t resist tasting his fingers that were still moist with her essence. She took note, her brown eyes widening again, finding it outrageously erotic.
She slid free of his grasp and stood up next to the bed, dropping the wet underwear to the floor. In the dancing candlelight, he could see her peaked nipples, glistening thighs and the faint blush across her skin. He reached for her, only to have her lightly slap away his hands.
“No. My turn.” No courtesan could match Laura’s avaricious smirk. Remington grinned appreciatively and toed off his shoes and socks. She carefully unbuttoned his slacks, “accidentally” bumping around and sliding her hands along his throbbing heat. She spent long minutes stroking and tugging off his briefs, biting her lip again as he clutched a headboard, sheet, pillow--or whatever else he could find--during her ministrations.
When he was stripped bare and entirely exposed, Laura’s face warmed. She was no stranger to lovemaking, but seeing her dearest friend stretched across the bed reminded her of all the wild fantasies she had envisioned about him. It seemed that one or two of them started out this way ... but she had forgotten one minor, well, major detail.
“Blushing bride tonight?” Remington grinned again. He always found it endearing when Laura became aggressive. He loved her passion and he loved to match that passion, but he also found her periodic hesitations just as appealing. Sitting up on one arm, he tugged her to him.
She took the opportunity to stroke firmly down his long length with a finger, causing him to jerk violently. “I don’t know why I assumed you would be circumcised, but this ... this is lovely.”
“Ah, Good Lord, Laura, don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop.” Her single touch jolted his core. He panted for a moment. “Are you implying that you, ah, haven’t played with one like this before.”
“Mmm, no, can’t say that I have. And as a very thorough private investigator, I’m certain I need to do extensive research into the matter.” She gently stroked the foreskin, sliding it back and forth over the top of the pulsing head. He tried his best to remain perfectly still but lost the battle when she covered him with her mouth. He wove his fingers in her hair while she suckled, sometimes hard, sometimes softly. When she curved a soft hand around the base and squeezed, he jumped as pleasure streaked through his entire being.
He had wholly underestimated her effect on him. To know in the darkest shadows of his heart that Laura wanted him, without reservation, awed and humbled him. Each time her body pressed against his, he shuddered with need. Each time she responded to his lightest touch, his own desires heightened. And tonight, after four long years of keeping him at bay, she was holding nothing back. Thank God.
Before he lost all sensibility, he dragged her up and over his body for a drugging kiss. Laura tried to sit astride him once again, but Remington had a few practiced moves of his own. He rolled her to her back and braced himself above her.
“No, darling, some things are meant to be done a certain way, at least the first time.” Laura protested his arrogance and tried to move, but Remington tangled his hands in hers over her head, letting his full weight rest on her briefly. As he brushed his mouth to hers, she felt him resting just at her entrance. Slick and hot, her tight passage clenched and spasmed while he pressed inward. She squeezed his hands hard and sucked in her breath, feeling like a butterfly pinned to paper. While she was certainly not an innocent, five years was a long time. And he wasn’t exactly packing lightly for the trip.
He trembled as he sank into her hot, wet heat. He heard her gasp and felt the sudden tension in her body. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he struggled not to move. Icy calm, icy calm, icy calm, he chanted in his head. Bloody hell, that’s not working. With Laura’s inner muscles squeezing down on him and her fingers gripping his own, Remington’s ability to think was rapidly compromised as jolts of pleasure coursed through his lean body.
He murmured, “Hold on, love,” and held her tightly until she accepted all of his length and began lifting her pelvis. Remington rocked back on his forearms and withdrew partially as Laura’s hips bucked in protest.
“No, no, come back,” she coaxed. Still holding his hands, she wrapped her legs around his hips and took him deeper. The feel of his intact shaft sliding in to the hilt set up a whole new host of sensations inside Laura.
He fought for time, waiting until he felt her body respond involuntarily to his long slow strokes. When she did, she clutched at his hands, holding on. Their passion rose, crested and in the moment before he lost control, Remington demanded, “Laura, look at me. I love you, Laura.”
Glazed brown eyes opened and caught stormy blue ones, “I love you, Remington.”
"Laura!”
They panted in time with each other. He released his grip on her hands and she brought them down to stroke his back, reveling in the weight of his long body covering hers. He leaned into her fingers, causing her to arch and shudder again as the motion drove him against her throbbing bud again. He held her, stroking her hair and neck, while he whispered in her ear, “Shhh, I’ve got you, let it happen, love.” Still buried inside her body, Remington could feel every contraction and shiver. He smiled into her hair and rocked gently against her. In moments, she moaned softly, and his name caught on her breath again.
Now he eased from her, kissing away her protests and using a single digit to slide down her body, circling her nipple twice before heading south to play in her belly button. Laura closed her eyes at the sensation, only to pop them open again when she felt his body weight shift to the foot of the bed. She didn’t want to admit that she was so sensitized to his touch that the merest brush of a finger in the right place would send her into orbit yet again.
“Where are you going?” she managed to get out.
“I didn’t get dessert.” He blew lightly across her thighs, making her shiver again. He drew a finger along the outside of her most intimate folds. When she shifted to give him better access, he smiled at her response. He stroked on the outer edges until he felt her heat rising, then pressed against that tangled knot of nerves, using tapping, feathering strokes that drove her wild. He stopped abruptly and blew softly, sending cold air into her core, before he covered her with his mouth.
Laura’s mind recoiled while her body demanded more. Much more. “But ... we ... you ... ”
“Afraid?” he murmured, catching her eyes. She nodded with what wits were about her. “To taste myself in you is highly erotic to me. You’re mine, Laura. And I’ve waited far too long not to savor this.” With that, Remington slid his hands under her hips, lifting them and taking possession of her with his tongue--sucking, laving, and diving deep--until she screamed his name and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
This time, he snuggled with her, wrapping the blankets around them. She buried her nose in his silky chest hair, breathing in his warm, musky scent, and nestled in his arms while he sketched designs in her flesh with his fingertip.
She wasn’t sure what to say. She had always enjoyed sex, but Remington seemed to have all the right tools at hand even before she knew there were locks on her body to be picked. And her mind circled time and again on the words he had said: I love you, Laura.
Actually, he was thinking much the same thing. The suave connoisseur of the female form had been brought to his knees by the same woman who had managed to intrigue his brain and keep him at bay for four long years. The results of their joining made any other tryst pale in comparison. He loved her to distraction and he exulted in the pleasure she found at his hands. He groaned, already anticipating having her again. Judging by his current state, it wouldn’t be long.
Laura heard Remington’s low moan and chuckled. She tipped her head back and slid a leg around his hip. “Perhaps dessert wasn’t enough?”
*****
Morning sun shed a warm glow throughout the master’s suite. Remington woke to find his exhausted bride sprawled face down across the wide expanse of the bed. The white sheet barely covered her backside, leaving her toned legs on luscious display.
I always said I was a leg man. He grinned to himself. Rolling to her, he skimmed a hand down her spine and played with the sensitive area just at her waist.
“Done toufff muff,” she mumbled into her pillow. She twitched as his fingers ignited little sparks all over.
“What was that again, Laura, love?” Remington swirled his middle finger across the bare skin.
“I SAID: don’t touch me.” She rolled over to face him with a sleepy smile. “Oh, God, I’m sore.”
“Well, then,” he whispered in her ear, “I’ll just have to be very, very gentle.” He pushed her back down on her stomach and feathered soft kisses up her back, making her shiver in response.
“Remington!” she yipped.
“Yes, darling?” he whispered again as he tickled the sides of her breasts.
“I’m really, really sore!”
“Hmmm, down here?” She jolted as he continued, “Ah, I think I see the problem. I’ll just massage those tense muscles and work the pain right out.”
Truth be told, he was a bit on the tender side himself, but the sight of a very naked Laura in his bed combined with the hours of remembered passion and laughter of the night before served well to step up his morning appetite. Not to mention it had been quite some time since he was able to indulge in a morning dalliance. Remington stroked her body into gentle pleasure.
“You’re kidding me, right?” She squirmed at the sensations he was causing. “Perhaps I should return the favor.” She reached across to wrap her hand around his hardening shaft, but at her first touch, his eyes nearly crossed and he scrambled backwards off the bed.
“Ah, no, perhaps not.”
Laura bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she crawled after him and threw her arms around his waist, pulling him back towards her. He landed in her lap, and they sprawled together on the bed. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pressing kisses to his back and playing with the hair on his chest. “Ha! I win!” she taunted him.
But Remington cleverly turned in her embrace and rolled so that she was sitting astride his body. He folded his hands behind his head and arched a brow, daring her.
Utterly unable to resist the challenge, she pressed kisses to his chest and stroked his body with her fingertips. Neither of them could handle much sensation this morning, but their imaginations took them where their bodies couldn’t.
Laura’s hands feathered over Remington’s body with the lightest of touches and her lips whispered kisses in their wake. From his toes to his hair, she stroked his skin and warmed it with her breath. She avoided those sensitive areas in favor of furthering her exploration of his body, and by the light of day, she discovered little things about him that she had missed the night before. Such as the fact that he shivered when she drew her tongue along that little patch of skin just below his ear. He twitched whenever she blew across his nipple. And he had very ticklish feet, but he loved having his toes nibbled.
He reveled in her touch, closing his eyes and floating along as his body awakened. He jolted when she finished her exploration and blew lightly on his arousal before straddling him and sinking down along his shaft. They both winced at the first contact, but pain turned into pleasure as she rose up and sank down, taking them both slowly up the precipice.
He pulled his hands from behind his head, but Laura neatly trapped them in hers, pinning them to the bed with her weight. Laura could feel Remington harden even further as he edged toward his own release. She let go of his hands and sat up straight, letting him pierce her to the core: once, twice, and the third time she came apart.
He had planned to let her ride, but when she sat up, he opened his eyes and drank in the sight of his wife lost in pleasure as she climaxed and dragged him with her over the edge. When she settled on his chest, he held her as if she were made of the most fragile glass, feeling if as he had come home from a long journey.
*****
Sometime later, Laura finally staggered out of bed and into a steaming hot shower cleverly tucked into what used to be a tiny sitting room of the old castle. She left Remington tangled in the sheets and snoring softly. Good Lord. She had always thought he would be an incredible lover, but she never quite imagined he would entirely live up to her fantasies.
After their first intense round of lovemaking, Remington had unleashed all of the bedroom skills he had developed over the years, keeping Laura at his mercy for most of the night. Each time she thought his thirst for her was slaked, he had changed the pace and the mood again. She had never laughed as much during sex as she had last night, and he had considered her body fair game for his explorations.
She already wanted him again. But that’s just going to have to wait a while. I need food. And I may not be able to close my legs for a week.
Turning off the water with a cool, enameled bath handle, she had to admire the way the castle renovators blended modern conveniences with the antique structure. She stepped out to find a thick towel and Remington’s bathrobe draped over the towel warmer. In his usual discrete fashion, he must have slipped in and turned it on while she showered. It was an honest fact that he spoiled her ridiculously when she allowed it--and even when she didn’t.
Laura wrapped herself in the blue robe and combed out her wet hair. She peeked into the bedroom, only to find Remington casually propped up at a small table set with white roses and silver serving pieces.
“Now aren’t you a lovely sight this morning. Lunch?” he asked as he folded the paper he was reading.
“Mmmm, sounds wonderful.” She rounded the table to drop a light kiss on his cheek. “What are we having?”
“You?” Remington pulled Laura down on his lap, laughing at her startled shriek. Giggling like a besotted teen-ager, she kissed him, then wiggled off his lap and sat down across from him. He pretended annoyance. “Consommé and a light pasta salad, apparently.”
“Sounds perfect.” She dipped her spoon in the broth.
While the lovers fairly inhaled their food, they chatted lightly about Mickeline and Mildred and the castle itself. When they were done, Remington rang for a servant to take away the remains of their repast while Laura dressed in casual slacks and a sweater. She dried her hair as he, quite comfortable with his nudity, stepped into the shower to her admiring glances. From under the spray, he called out, “What shall we do today, Laura, love?”
She smiled at the endearment. “You know, Mr. Steele, I really don’t care to see anyone but you today.”
“Then perhaps we shall take a walk about the grounds again, Mrs. Steele?”
“Sounds wonderful.” She noted that they were back to “Mrs. Steele” again and wondered what it signified.
She tidied the bedroom, marveling at the fact they were quite compatible in this area. Both of them preferred neat, stylish homes. They would have to work out exactly where they were to live, but she thought they might end up in Remington’s condominium. She originally purchased the flat and furnished it when “Remington Steele” was a figment of her imagination. Remington had certainly put his mark on it, but she still loved the place. Truth be told, she was always a bit jealous that she never lived in it.
When he appeared in cords and a rugged sweater, with his hair slightly damp and curling at the neck, she thought she might have to revisit the promise she made her body this morning to give it a break until this evening--until she saw the troubled expression on his face.
“What is it?”
He crossed to the table where he had laid the newspaper and gave it to her. On the front page it was mentioned that Daniel Chalmers would be laid to rest today in London. A smaller subtext noted that KGB official Sergei Kemadov was to be laid to rest in Moscow at nearly the same time. “I thought it wouldn’t bother me, but it does, Laura.” He stared at Daniel’s picture in the paper. “I miss him. Which is rather silly if you ask me. I’ve gone years without seeing him.”
She put her arm around his waist. “It’s different now. Perhaps you had more to lose today than you did a week ago.”
*****
They walked in the garden and Remington fell back into a brooding silence. This time though, with Laura by his side, he was able to think clearly and work through his sadness. Her quiet presence comforted and strengthened him.
They were late returning for lunch though, and by the time they ate, she was yawning beside him.
“Hmmm, up late last night?”
“Someone was restless.” She smiled. “Come with me and we’ll take a nap together. Just a nap. No hanky-panky.” She waggled her finger at him.
But he shook his head. While walking, he’d come to several conclusions and needed to set a couple of things in motion. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.”
“Will you be okay?”
“I promise.” He kissed her knuckles. She pressed her hand to his cheek and then touched her lips to his before climbing the stairs to sleep.
After having a long, very realistic discussion by telephone with Mildred, Remington closeted himself with Mickeline, the castle’s major domo, to decide what do to with Ashford Castle. While the idea of owning it was fun, even he could see that it served no purpose in his and Laura’s life. The taxes for it alone could bury them in just a few short years.
Mickeline had toyed with the idea of making the place a hotel some time ago, but the Earl of Claridge was far more interested in a token ownership of the sprawling estate than in making it a going concern. Remington, though, had no intention of being an absentee landlord. He and Mickeline struck a deal that satisfied both of them. The castle would be given over to the servants; in return, he and Laura had a place to stay in Ireland whenever they wanted and would earn a percentage of the hotel’s profits.
He signed papers to that effect and then sent Mickeline to Los Angeles that very afternoon to work out the rest of the deal with Mildred. Of course, the major domo managed to spread the word to every single servant at the estate in the meantime. Remington and Laura were lucky to get a lukewarm dinner that night since all the new owners were scurrying about as they planned their own great party.
Afterward, they watched the news coverage of the two funerals from the little sofa facing the television. He had his arm stretched out across the back of the loveseat and she was lying with her head in his lap. Remington couldn't remember Laura ever taking that sort of liberty with him and found it endearing.
"In London, a military funeral was held today for the man who spearheaded the exposure--and subsequent capture--of British Intelligence double agent Sterling Fitch. In gratitude for his heroics, Daniel Chalmers was posthumously knighted."
"In a related ceremony in Moscow, a high ranking KGB official, Sergei Kemadov, was given a hero's burial, for what the Kremlin ambiguously described as 'assorted heroic activities on behalf of the state.' "
When the newscast finished the brief story, Remington clicked off the TV with the remote. Laura had a smile on her face when she turned to look up at him. “Only Daniel could end up being buried as a national hero in both London and Moscow.”
Nodded, he stared at the blank television. "It's the ultimate con. He deserves nothing less."
She placed her hand over his. "You're a good son."
He let out a soft laugh. "I only wish I could have spent more time with him."
"On the other hand, you spent twenty years with him."
"Yeah." He tossed the remote away and put both arms around her, really looking at her this time. "Well, one thing's for certain. I'm not going to waste precious time showing people who are close to me how I feel for them." With resolve, he leaned down and kissed her, stroking her neck with his fingers--only be surprised when she shifted off his lap and away from his embrace.
Yet she surprised him by holding out her hand. "Care to elaborate, Mr. Steele?"
The invitation was unmistakable. "Well," he stood up and swept her into his arms, “we have the castle to ourselves, Mrs. Steele."
Surprised, she linked her arms around his neck, then looked around as he carried her toward the stairs. "Where are the servants?"
"Out celebrating," he told her. "I decided to give them the castle."
"Hmm. That was awfully generous of your lordship."
"The act of a desperate lord, I assure you."
"Where's Mildred?" The suspicion in her voice should have made him laugh, for the woman had interrupted them one too many times, but he was too distracted as he plotted his net move.
"I decided to give her Mickeline."
"There's nothing between us and the bedroom door?" she asked as he paused at the bottom of the stairs.
"Uh uh." But the phone started to ring.
Laura slipped out of his arms and straightened his collar. "I'll get the phone. You turn down the
covers." She gave him a light kiss on the lips.
"Hmm hmm." He pretended to shoot the phone as he continued upstairs, brooding a little over the
newscast as he ascended the stairs.
*****
Laura answered the antique phone with unusually good-humor. Having Remington waiting upstairs had a great deal to do with that. "Hello?"
"Well," Tony told her, "they finally released me."
"I never doubted it for a moment." She smiled as she glanced up the stairs, wondering how fast she could dump Tony off the line.
"I still think Steele's plan was a little risky."
"Kemadov cleared you, didn't he?" she asked absent-mindedly.
"Laura, listen, what we talked about earlier still stands," Tony's voice was low, as if he were trying to be seductive.
"Laura!" Remington called out from the bedroom.
Not wanting to create a problem at the moment, she insisted, "This really isn't the best time to discuss that, Tony."
"Laura, I'm not gonna give up on you."
"Laura! The bed's turned down!"
Laura was distracted by Remington’s voice. "I have to go--right now."
"Okay, when can I see you?" Tony was persistent.
"Fluffing up pillows!" Remington called down again.
"Coming!" Laura called back. "I gotta go. Bye!" she told Tony. She dropped the phone on the cradle and ran up the first flight of stairs where Remington met her on the landing. The phone started to ring again. They glanced at it, but she put her arms around his neck. “Let it ring.” Kissing her, he swung her up into his arms and carried her up the short flight of stairs to their room. The phone stopped ringing.
The candles had been cleared from the bedroom, but the scent of the beeswax from the night before lingered in the air. Remington let Laura’s feet touch the ground once more, without letting her out of his embrace.
But when he turned the lights out, the phone began ringing again. They tried to ignore it for a few moments, but she finally stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs. “This better be good,” she snapped to the caller.
“Laura, don’t hang up on me again.”
“Tony, give it up. I’ve made my choice and it’s not you.”
“But you said--”
“Tony, I’ve said lots of things in the past two months that didn’t make any sense. If you and that idiot Keyes had left Mr. Steele and me alone in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this ridiculous conversation.”
“Are you telling me you don’t think he married you just to keep the INS off his back?”
“Tony, we would have come around to it sooner or later. Now would you leave us alone?”
Laura jumped as Remington’s arm came around her waist. With the other hand he took the receiver from her. “Antony.”
She was close enough to hear both sides of the conversation. “Steele.”
“We’re on our honeymoon. Do you think you could give us a break here?”
“Honeymoon. Then you and Laura--"
“Aye, mate. And it was bloody well worth it. Think again if you’re imagining I’ll back off.”
“But Laura--"
“Laura knows I love her, Antony. Now do me a favor, old chap, and go away.”
“For now, Steele. For now.”
Remington quietly put the phone down and disconnected the cord.
Laura was contrite. “I’m sorry, Remington. I didn’t want--”
He placed a finger to her lips. “Shh. It’s behind us, remember? We’ve made our explanations, and you warned me about Antony. I don’t blame him for wanting you. But he won’t interfere in our lives anymore. I’ve had about as much of that as I can handle for one lifetime.” While he was talking, he drew her back to the staircase where they ascended together.
She shut the door behind them and locked it while he pulled a bottle of wine from the hidden wine safe and poured each of them a glass. She noted the worry and strain that were back in his eyes when he crossed over to hand her one. She set it on the table beside her, untouched. Remington sipped his before placing it beside hers.
He took her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her. She could tell his heart wasn’t in it but was trying to be romantic for her sake. When he tried to deepen the kiss, Laura cupped one of his hands and pressed a kiss into the palm. “Tonight, love, I don’t think I could ask.”
He looked confused for a moment, and then his face cleared as he remembered the time he gave those words to her.
“Go get into bed, Mr. Steele. It’s been a difficult day.”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
“With you. Oh, and pajamas are optional ... remember?” That comment elicited a chuckle out of him as he wandered off to the bathroom.
By the time Laura finished dressing for bed, Remington had stretched out under the covers with his blue eyes following her every move. She wore a pink cotton camisole and matching pajama shorts, aiming for pretty but nothing too obviously seductive. She felt a little awkward sliding under the sheets with him, wondering where he wanted her. Wilson always insisted that she sleep on her own side of the bed without touching him.
“Roll over, Laura.” She did, lying on her side. Remington pulled her to him so that they nestled like a couple of spoons. She sighed in contentment as she snuggled in next to him. She realized all he had on was a pair of silk boxer shorts. His hairy chest tickled where her camisole rode up at her waist, but he radiated heat, luring her into sleep in minutes.
*****
He heard that sweet sigh and placed a kiss on the back of her neck, grateful for her understanding. He didn’t doubt that he could summon up the energy to make love to her, but it didn’t feel right tonight with Daniel being laid to rest. With his free hand, he stroked Laura’s hair. He smiled as the silky locks clung to his fingers, and he realized he would just have to learn to live with the long strands sticking to his face while they slept.
He rested his arm on her bare waist and laced his fingers with hers. Tomorrow would be different.
Chapter 2 -- New Beginnings
Irish weather in the very early spring sometimes left a lot to be desired. Today was typical: cloudy, with temperatures made colder by the rain. A black hearse, flanked by Russian soldiers, waited in the driveway of Ashford Castle. With stoic formality, four of the uniformed men lifted the coffin and inserted it inside. One man closed the doors while the others saluted in respect. The soldiers returned to their own car and followed as the hearse pulled away, leaving only three people standing in the drizzle. All three had their hands in their pockets, although the two women turned to the man in the middle as if in choreographed unison.
The man looked down at the woman on his left. “I want to stay here until he’s buried, Laura. If you need to go back to the States because of the agency, I understand. I’ll be along in a few days.” Again he stared off into the distance, as if he could still see the hearse in the evening light.
“I’m not going anywhere, Mr. Steele.” Laura frowned at him. Did he really think I would? He's just lost a parent, for Heaven’s sake.
“Thank you, Miss Holt.” He gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek as he did Mildred, the woman standing on his other side, before wandering off into the gardens with his hands in his pockets, lost in his own thoughts.
Miss Holt? What happened to Mrs. Steele? Now Laura had something else to worry about.
*****
It was midnight before he returned to the castle--and the bedroom they were supposed to share. She waited on the sofa, staring into the fire.
“I, uh, I’m going to take a shower.” His voice was stilted and awkward.
Laura nodded and let him go, still watching the flames in the fireplace dance along the logs. She was glad he'd duucked into the bathroom and had no doubts his hurry was to avoid conversation. Where do we go from here? She had entertained the hope that their time in Ireland would allow them the chance to make some decisions about their so-called marriage, the agency, and their on-again-off-again relationship. But once more, life intervened and threw up a roadblock. At times like this, it seemed to be a dozen stories tall and impossibly wide.
Quite a while later, Remington sat beside her, startling her out of her thoughts. It didn’t take much to see the strain in his handsome face. As much as she longed to run her hands along his bare chest, visible where the dressing gown gaped open, she wanted much more to ease the stress from his eyes and to soothe his heart. Lightly, she ran her fingers through his hair and tugged his head down to rest on her shoulder. Later, when the fire burned low, she shifted so that his head rested against her breast. Holding him that way felt good. I hope it helps.
Even breathing moments later clued Laura in that Remington was out like a light. Had that ever happened before? Certainly, she had dozed in his arms more than once. While she tried to decide, she closed her own eyes--letting let her mind drift until sleep claimed her as well.
The morning was uncomfortable. The words between them still wouldn’t come, and Remington escaped the bedroom rather quickly, leaving Laura frustrated at her inability to cross the divide. She had breakfast with only Mildred as her vanishing partner had already skipped out and bolted from the house.
“How’s he doing this morning, Mrs. Steele?”
Drooping a little with sadness, Laura shrugged. “I don’t know. We ... we didn’t talk much at all. I have to tell you, I can’t remember a time that we couldn’t at least yell at each other. I ... I don’t know what to say to him.”
Mildred shrewdly eyed the younger woman. “It seems to me that you two need time to work this all out. I decided last night that I’m going home today. I’ll handle the agency. Until you and Mr. Steele have some answers, there’s no point in your coming home.”
Laura crossed her arms and looked miserable. “I had hoped you would stay.”
With a no-nonsence attitude, Mildred sternly reprimanded her. “No, I’m not running interference for you two. Either it’s time to make this little dance work, or it’s time to let it go, Mrs. Steele. You’re both miserable and Mr. Steele is grieving. That’s no way to live, kiddo. Mickeline is taking me to the airport in a couple of hours.”
“Mickeline?”
“Yeah, he’s a nice fellow. He wants to see me off personally.” She leaned over conspiratorially. “He keeps asking when I’ll be coming back.”
Laura tried to work up a smile and nodded her head. “I’ll call you in a couple of days. Maybe we can get something worked out by then.” The disbelief in Mildred's face only reminded her that the pile of issues standing between her and Mr. Steele had grown large and wide in the last few weeks.
Once Laura saw Mildred and Mickeline off to the airport, she hunted for Remington . A passing gardener thought he’d seen the young lord walking down the road earlier. After searching for the afternoon and failing to find him, she sighed and returned to the castle, left alone with her thoughts.
Remington returned deep in the night, long after Laura had given up and crawled between the sheets. This time he lay on the bed beside Laura and slept with his arm wrapped around her. And like the morning before, he escaped, but not before she realized he was there. Miserable and confused, Laura spent another day on her own, contemplating their lives.
*****
During this time, Remington struggled with his emotions. Torn between hurt, anger and love for both Daniel and Laura, he felt somewhat betrayed by both of them for different reasons.
Daniel had only confessed to being his real father hours before dying, leaving Remington confused and angry at the deception that had lasted for twenty years. He was grateful that he'd had at least a few happy moments with his father before he died but felt guilty about still being angry with him. He had few answers to a hundred questions.
He reflected over the angry young lad he’d been and certainly understood his father’s reasons for not telling him of their relationship at that point. He probably would have run fast and hard enough to get himself killed in the process. But it didn’t help to remember that one of Daniel’s perennial failings was his constant evasion of reality. Why live with a painful truth when a delightful little lie will soothe things over? It was one of the things that both intrigued and annoyed Remington throughout the years.
He tried long strolls in the gardens to quell his emotions but found little solace in the process. He only knew that he didn’t dare take out his frustration on Laura for fear of breaking apart what little relationship they had at this point.
It took most of the second day to understand why he felt as if he were lost at sea. His normally solid Laura, the one person he could count on and he knew to be as predictable as the sun, had blown with the wind these last two months. Since the nightmare with the Immigration and Naturalization Service, there had been none of the teasing, flirting and good-natured rivalry that marked their day-to-day relationship. Laura lived at the edge of her emotions, snapping at him for the least little thing and giving neither of them room to breathe. He wasn’t any better, finding himself saying and doing things that he knew would make her angry.
In retrospect, he realized now that he had wanted her to fight for him and their relationship, to know that it meant a great deal to her. Instead, she conducted a flirtation right under his nose that made him see red.
Their friendship and quasi-love affair had taken a hard beating. Hardly three months ago he told her he was ready to commit to her. He knew Laura was struggling with accepting him, but he’d had the definite feeling she was coming around. At this moment, though, he wasn’t sure if she even wanted him in the picture.
He realized that he had abused her trust, terribly. More than once in the past year, Laura had placed her absolute faith in him and fought for him, even to the point of putting her agency on the line--and then he failed to place the same level of trust in her. No wonder she was angry when she saw him running another scam to get himself out of trouble. Hadn’t he learned that while Laura took the hard road, it usually worked out for the best? Oh, he usually found a way to sneak in a shortcut or interesting detour, but the path was generally hers.
Yet, he knew Laura. Would she have really committed to him--unconditionally? He didn’t think so. And therein lay the crux of the problem.
Still, again last night, he couldn’t resist holding her close. She was his touchstone, whether or not she knew it.
*****
The idle time forced Laura to confront her own emotions. She was very good at avoiding thinking about her heart, but freed from dealing with the agency for the time being and with Remington off to his own devices, she had little choice but to face her own feelings head-on.
She knew that she was incredibly angry with Remington for not trusting her with the truth about the INS. Granted, the immigration issue was a very personal one to him, and beyond the fact that it could affect her agency, she had honestly thought that they could confide those kinds of things to each other by now.
But then she came to a couple of startling realizations. First, despite what she told him, she would have married him, quite for real, to keep him from being deported. She had no idea how they would work things out, but she couldn’t imagine him not being in her life. Laura couldn’t think of a single solution that would not have involved her saying some sort of vows. At least she felt better about a quasi-marriage on a tuna boat. She wasn’t sure if she would be happy or disappointed to discover the marriage was real.
The second revelation dawned the next day. It was nearly evening when she finally came to the understanding that most of her anger was directed at herself, for the simple act of falling in love. She had promised herself to never risk heartbreak again--and that promise lay in tatters at her feet. With that came the realization that it didn’t matter whether or not Remington loved her in return. If he left today, her heart would be broken anyhow. It was simply too late not to fall in love.
She was smart enough to accept that she couldn’t fall out of love. Not now. No matter what he might do, some part of her heart would always be with him, just as it was with her father. On the heels of that thought came a new truth: the only way to avoid a broken heart was for them to be irrevocably in love. Was it too late for that?
*****
When Remington came back from his wanderings long after dark again, Laura wasn't in their bedroom. Unable to sleep without her, he'd wandered the silent castle until he found her curled up on the chaise lounge amongst all the musty tomes of the library. One of her arms dangled off the edge, her fingers nearly touching the floor.
Eying her, he decided it was too far to carry her to their bed. Instead, he found a blanket in a chest and pulled a pillow off the sofa. He stretched out on the floor next her so that her hand rested on his heart.
*****
In the morning, Laura peered over the edge of the chaise to find Remington blinking sleepily at her from the floor. She squeaked when he pulled her down on top of him and fairly ravaged her mouth, causing her body to hum. Just as quickly, he rolled them over, lifted himself off and stood before she could lodge a rotest. With all the élan he’d ever demonstrated, he helped her to her feet, tucked her arm in his and escorted her to breakfast despite their obvious lack of morning toilette.
It was those little things about him that fascinated Laura. He always kept her slightly off balance. Hope sprang up in Laura’s heart. Maybe it wasn’t too late.
For the first time in weeks, they enjoyed each other’s company. Over eggs and bacon, Remington cautiously suggested that they drive into Galway for lunch. Laura accepted just as guardedly, but with the stipulation that they at least shower and change clothes. Remington bit his lip to avoid the obvious risqué remark, but she saw it dancing in his eyes anyway and had to look away to hide her own small grin.
The pair spent a pleasant day together taking in some of the more historic sites around the city. Remington always made a wonderful tour guide, and Laura was an avid listener as they climbed staircases and peeked into long-unused corridors of the abbeys and castles they visited.
Slowly, they recovered their bearings and by the end of the day, they were gently bantering. They made light jokes and teasing comments that did much to restore their confidence in one another. From time to time, something would remind Remington of Danie. She did her best to know when he needed a moment to reflect and when to cajole him out of his suddenly somber mood.
He held her hand all the way home.
*****
It still took another two days before Remington approached her at breakfast. He took her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. Here we go, mate. It’s now or never. “Laura, we need to talk.”
“I know. But let’s take a walk while we do it.”
Outside the castle, the air was brisk and the sun was warm, perfect for a stroll. The couple headed for the expansive lawns. Still holding her hand, Remington pulled Laura into his embrace. Breathe, old chap. Say the words. She needs them. “You must know by now that I love you.”
“I do.” Her face lit up, stunned though she was by his outright admission. “I love you. I have for a long time.”
Apparently, he had needed them, too. I didn’t realize. “You’ve captivated me since the day I introduced myself to you as Ben Pearson.”
“It was the magnum of champagne that did it for me.” She smiled in remembrance.
“Good to know. I’ll try it again next time.”
She cocked her head and sent him a flirtatious smile. “Only with me.”
He touched her forehead with his middle finger and drew a lock of hair to the side. “I ... I need to explain about Clarissa.” Remington began walking again, tucking her arm in his. Laura crinkled her brow.
“When Immigration contacted me, I simply had no idea what to do and I panicked. I thought that marrying Clarissa would buy me time to make things right with you. I never realized I would have to pretend to be married to her and share quarters, certainly not for two years.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m still afraid of being deported and destroying all sorts of things: I said that I would never leave you, and I would be breaking that promise--not to mention the havoc it would wreak in the agency and on whatever slim chance we have to be together.
“Laura, I told you some time ago that I was ready to commit to you. But I never wanted you to feel that you had to marry me. I still don’t know if I could have asked you to marry me for any reason other than I love you and want to share my life with you. If I thought for one moment that you would have believed me, it might have been different. I haven’t stayed these past years because I wanted to get you into the sack. Although that part is rather, hmmmm, shall we say, an intriguing concept?” He kissed the back of her hand but kept it clasped in his.
They walked quietly for a moment while Laura thought. “What is Clarissa to you?”
Remington hesitated before answering, “She’s a sweet girl that I’ve helped out from time to time. She owed me a favor.”
“You’ve helped her? How?”
“Occasionally--in her line of work--she’s been in a tight spot here and there. She knows she can count on me.”
“Why? I mean, not why can she count on you, but why do you help her?”
Remington laid a finger aside his nose and scratched. “Because I keep hoping she’ll find something better to do. It’s a hard life, Laura. Eventually that kind of life will take its toll, and she’ll end up on drugs or dead.” He walked quietly for a moment. “It’s one of the things you learn on the streets. A favor here and there can pay off down the road. She owed me one and I tried to collect.”
Laura abruptly stopped walking. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but I will. Are you sleeping with her?”
“No, I never have.”
“Why not?”
He frowned at her question. “For the same reason I haven’t slept with anyone in a while. Good Lord, what was I supposed to do? Take some woman out, court her long enough to seduce her and not think of you? Do you think I can kiss her, caress her, sleep with her and go back to the office to flirt with you and take you to dinner Friday night? I’ve not had many standards in my life, but I’ve never done that to you. Yes, I’ve taken women out, mostly to make you a bit jealous, but I’ve not slept with anyone in quite some time.” Remington’s irritation showed in the tightness of his jaw.
Somewhat bitterly, he added, “There have been times when you have flirted and kissed and left me so damned hard that a cold shower in the Arctic couldn’t cool me down. But I’ve played your game because I’m too damned in love with you.”
*****
Laura wasn’t sure what to think. She had always assumed Remington had his flings, and quite a while ago she had resolved not to think of it. To find out that he had been chaste for some time was a revelation. Slowly, she resumed their walk and ducked her head in embarrassment. “I’m always underestimating you, Remington, and I’m rather ashamed to admit it. Perhaps I bought into your fascinating man-about-town persona a little too well.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
“Ah, whew ... all right.” She glanced at her friend with a hint of determination and humor. “You charm me. You always have. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted: intelligent, witty, handsome, caring beyond belief. You respect who I am and what I do.” Growing serious, she added, “Quite frankly you terrify me--no, that’s not right--I’m terrified by how much I need you. It cuts right into my determination to be an independent woman. All I’ve ever wanted is to stand on my own.”
“Ah, Laura, all I’ve ever wanted is you,” Remington sighed.
Laura was quiet for several minutes as they crossed between the verdant lawns and sat on a stone bench in the elegantly manicured gardens. Then she spoke. “I believe you now. I don’t know that I would have believed you even a week ago. I was so angry with you. I couldn’t believe you chose Clarissa. When have I ever not been there when you needed me? And I was there for you. You only had to ask.”
“I know. That’s my failing. I should have trusted you, but I’m afraid of a marriage where we carry on as things were. I can’t bear to live with you and not have you ... and Laura, I mean more than just sexually, although that’s part of it. I need your heart.”
“It’s yours, Remington.”
He smiled as he heard her say his name without thinking for the first time.
Laura looked into the sky. “I’d rather not admit it, but you’re right about not wanting to marry me under false pretenses. I probably would have let things carry on the way they were. If it weren’t for the past few days--” She shook her head, unable to say the words. “I’ve let something that happened to my parents, and later with Wilson, to control my life. I’ve been so afraid that if you really knew me, you would leave. But all these years, every time I let some of the precocious, cocky and adventurous Laura out, you’ve been thrilled. I think if I had performed that silly fan dance for you, you would have swept me off my feet and not let me out of the hotel room for a week.”
“You know me too well,” Remington murmured.
“Frankly, I was expecting Wilson to do that, but I shocked him too much. Nothing shocks you, mostly because you’ve either seen it or done it already.” Laura stared morosely at the ground.
Remington tipped her chin up. “I haven’t been in love like this before. I haven’t had someone willing to sacrifice everything she is for me. I haven’t had a name and a home before. You’ve given me those things, and they are more precious to me than any gem I ever lifted.” Remington pressed a tender kiss to Laura’s forehead before capturing her lips in sweet passion that promised a great deal more.
With no little regret, Laura pulled away and stood to resume their walk. “Think we can put that whole mess behind us?"
“Indeed we can, love.”
Warmth flooded her from head to toe at the endearment. “Okay, then, my turn. About Tony.” Remington stiffened perceptibly. “Tony was my way of punishing you for Clarissa. I encouraged him when I really wanted things to work with you. I was angry with you and wanted to make you jealous.
“You succeeded quite nicely there.”
“I tried. Tony believes that you don’t really want me, and I’m staying with you just because of INS. I’m not sure how to convince him otherwise.”
With another fist to his bloody jaw, if necessary. Remington started to speak, hesitated, and then continued, “Did you feel something for him?”
Laura considered her words before answering. “Remington, you will understand that there is simple and there is complicated. Tony is simple. Sort of like a cheap chardonnay. You? You’re a fine red wine--deep, rich, complex--and the taste keeps teasing your palate long after you’ve drunk. The cheap chardonnay might seem like a good idea, but once you’ve rolled it around on your palate, you spit it out and go back to the red, even though the red affects your taste for anything else. I felt betrayed by you, and Tony was there for a moment, but only for a moment.” She paused and then added, “If it helps, I’ll tell you that I never even considered sleeping with him.” Laura fell silent.
“I never thought you did,” replied Remington; then he too grew quiet. They walked along the pebbled path to the walled garden, listening to the chirping birds and the blowing wind.
At last he spoke again, “Perhaps we can put that mess behind us as well.” He squeezed her hand and then placed his arm around her shoulders as they walked on. Abruptly he stopped and faced Laura. “Did you mean it about not carrying on as we were?”
She flushed, feeling the heat crawl up her face. “Yes.”
“You’ll love me ... in every sense of the word?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.” She sounded sure of herself now.
Suddenly, Remington looked as nervous as a sixteen-year-old virgin. He swallowed hard to keep his composure. “Well, well, well, it appears that we have some plans to make.”
Laura threw him a wide smile and danced a few steps backwards toward the castle. “What are we waiting for?” She broke into a run, leaving him standing dumb-founded on the lawn.
He caught up with her halfway back, claiming her for a searing kiss that left them breathless with anticipation. She cleverly ducked out of his embrace and led him on a merry chase over the lawn and through the gardens where they exchanged quick kisses and caresses that further cemented their need for each other.
By the time they reached the castle, Remington gasped for breath and begged Laura to stop. Giggling, she collapsed onto the chair in the drawing room, fanning herself with her hand. He slumped against the doorway, but the light in his blue eyes dazzled her.
When he recovered, he approached her and kissed the back of her hand as if he were wearing the most formal of dress attire. “Miss Holt, might I suggest a hearty lunch and a period of rest this afternoon? The evening promises to be a long and delightful one. If one might presume on your time, I’d like to meet you in the foyer at eight this evening.”
“And how should I dress, Mr. Steele?”
“Casual will do. It is the country.”
“Certainly, Mr. Steele. If I may take my leave to begin my preparations?”
He pulled her to her feet. “Of course, Miss Holt. My pleasure.” He admired her sensual strut all the way out the door, his heart pounding in double-time.
Laura didn’t think she would sleep, but the huge lunch the servants had prepared at their lordship’s request lulled her into a light doze.
*****
Remington stood over the bed watching her breathe. The next time she sleeps, it will be after I’ve had her. Without thinking, he said a small prayer. Please God, let us make this work. Virtuously covering her with a blanket, he stretched out on top of it and laid his arm across her waist. Never again. It was his last thought for a long time.
*****
She woke first, wholly unsurprised to find him there; after all, every night for the past week she’d found him next to her in some form or fashion. A frission of excitement bubbled up. An enormous part of her wanted to wake up Remington in the most delicious way. But with iron-willed suppression, she told her libido to wait. One thing was for sure, her Mr. Steele knew how to draw romance out of even the most benign of occasions, and they had waited far too long for just a quick dip in the pool.
She did indulge herself by unabashedly looking at him while he slept. She admired his bare feet, noting the long toes and neatly trimmed nails. She giggled to herself, thinking of the old adage about long feet. Biting her lip, she let her gaze wander up his legs, thinking the denim manufacturers should pay him for advertising. Long, slim and perfectly fitted at the hips, the jeans hinted at the man hidden underneath. Down girl. You can look, but you can’t touch. She half-wished he was lying on his stomach so she could admire his rear, but since he wasn’t, she contented herself with speculating about the package lying tantalizingly under the zipper. Over the years, she had encountered it just often enough to know that the man carried a highly lethal weapon. She flushed. Oh Lord, you’ve got to stop, Laura. It’s just a few more hours.
Wrenching her gaze upward, she smiled at the half-unbuttoned shirt he wore. Little curls of black hair peeked through the open vee, and she had to clasp her hands together to keep from playing with them. It was a damned good thing he wore shirts and ties at the office. On the occasions he dispensed with the tie and opened his shirt there, she generally had to avoid him outright. At first, she didn’t realize he knew how attractive she found it, but after the first few occasions, she had caught his sly smirk. He loved seeing her get flustered by the view.
She let her eyes travel up his throat, across his full lips, and then she blushed from head to toe. Remington’s blue eyes were open, and he had been watching her perusal.
******
He had awakened when he felt her roll over to her side, but she was so busy taking in the view that he stayed silent, watching the emotions and desire play on her face. To see her unguarded expressions was a rare gift indeed, and he rather thought he might treasure this moment.
He slid his hand through her silky hair. Cupping the back of her head, he held her in place while he leaned in to brush his lips against hers. She leaned in to deepen the kiss, but he drifted away and rolled off the bed. He flashed her a wide, charming smile. “Anticipation, love, is everything. I’ll see you at eight.”
Two pillows, one of which connected with his bum, followed him out the door.
*****
At eight o’clock sharp, Laura paced in the foyer. This was the fifth outfit she’d settled on in the last hour and she hoped it would be appropriate. Casual, he had said. At the moment she hated the word. Casual jeans? Casual slacks? Casual skirt and blouse? She drew the line at the skirt, not interested in wrestling with pantyhose this evening. That line of thinking caused her to eventually pick black slacks and a white and silver sweater that showed off the natural red highlights in her hair which she had left long and loose and without even a pin to hold it back.
The glass of wine Remington left on the bathroom counter did little to calm her nerves. Any soothing qualities she might have enjoyed were countered by the fact he had slipped in unnoticed while she was singing ABBA’s “Mamma Mia” in the shower. Anticipation again. That and a heavy dose of mortification had her rubbing her own arms in the foyer.
Remington left her waiting for fifteen solid minutes while he put the final touches on the scene he was setting. Then he took a deep breath and strolled down the staircase.
“I always thought the girl was supposed to make the grand entrance and be fashionably late,” Laura quipped. She wondered how long he had been watching her. Apparently long enough to change into black slacks and turtleneck as well, topped by a dark gray and black sweater. In the past year, he had developed a habit of dressing in colors complimentary to hers. Yum, was all she could think.
“Next time it will be your turn.” Remington’s cultured accent echoed as he descended the stairs. Laura met him at the bottom and laced her fingers with his before touching his mouth lightly with hers. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Not particularly.” Too many butterflies in her tummy.
“Thank God.” He pulled her to him, fastening his mouth to hers. Remington found himself having serious thoughts about christening the staircase. He forced himself to slow down and take a couple of steps back up the stairs. “Come with me, Laura,” he coaxed as he took her hand.
“I will, Remington.” Hand in hand, they ascended the stairs together.
Laura was dazzled by the bedroom. In just the few minutes while she paced the foyer, Remington had set dozens of white candles all over the room. The flickering candlelight danced in counterpoint to the roaring flames in the fireplace. Light from the moon streamed through the windowpanes, landing on the bed before dripping to the floor. The light from the single lamp by the doorway was wholly unnecessary.
“Like it?” Remington said from behind her.
“It’s beautiful. More than beautiful.” She turned in his arms. “It’s perfect.”
Remington pulled the lamp cord, drenching Laura in darkness and candlelight. His hands slid into her auburn hair, pulling her in for another sweet, savoring kiss while her fingers stroked his neck and toyed with the black strands of hair curling over his collar.
For years, each of them had fantasized about this moment, this precious point in time where their partnership took a final, quirky twist from friends to lovers. From the moment they had met, they’d acknowledged the instant attraction and simmering passion underlying every touch and every word. The pair danced pretty steps around each other as they became friends, then partners, and now tonight, at long last, lovers.
Many, many times in the past, she fought the intense passions he aroused in her. But not tonight. Tonight she was his and she melted under warm lips and elegant hands. While one of those hands stayed tangled in her hair, the other slid firmly down her spine to her hip. Then the man she loved for so long dipped under her knees and drew her firmly into in his arms and carried her the short distance to the enormous bed in the master’s suite of Ashford Castle.
“Laura,” Remington’s blue eyes sparkled as he gave her a roguish grin, “I never quite thought this day would come.”
“Hmmm. Me neither.” Her body hummed as she watched him yank off the sweater and toss it on a nearby chair before stretching out full length beside her, making contact at the breast, hip and intertwining a leg with hers. “Before we get too far along, just what do you want me to call you? Harry?” Laura quirked up a brow, a habit she picked up from him long ago. She had wondered all afternoon if he would prefer the name Daniel always used.
Very seriously, he dropped a kiss in her hair. “You gave me the only name I ever wanted to keep, Laura.”
“Love me then, Remington,” Laura murmured, raising her mouth to his.
And he did. As a child of the streets, a con artist and a thief, he learned to watch people and to judge their emotions and reactions within a hairbreadth. Seduction was merely another aspect of that skill. Now he delighted in demonstrating what he had learned over the years on Laura’s wickedly slim form. His hands skimmed down her body and back again. He deepened his kiss, slipping his tongue inside to tangle with hers and withdrawing again to nibble on her lips.
Fire ignited Laura’s body, and she kissed him back with equal fervor. She felt his muscles flex as she slid her hands along his back before she dragged them through his hair. Remington pressed his lips to the hollow of her collarbone as his hands slid under her sweater and pulled it over her head. Laura tried to shove his turtleneck away, but he distracted her long enough with another deep, fiery kiss to pin her wrists above her head with one hand while the other roamed freely across the swatch of black silk covering her breasts.
“Remington, please--” She meant for him to let her hands go, but the words stuck in her throat. Tremors zipped through her when he tightened his grip.
“Of course, Laura.” He circled her nipple with his free hand and then lightly laved it through the silk. As the fabric dampened and heated, Laura arched under Remington as shocks darted through her body and made her ache. He turned his attention to the other breast, again wetting the fabric and licking lightly. As Laura squirmed, he changed tactics and sucked deeply while stroking her body from waist to thigh and back again. She twisted and moaned as he laved generously, teasing and tasting as he sent quickening shocks into her core. When her hands clutched his and she arched her back, he suckled her breast deeply, taking her just to the breaking point before abruptly stopping and blowing lightly across her peaked nipple.
Now she fully understood just how much restraint he had shown her over the years and exactly what skills he had at his disposal. She’d suspected. She couldn’t believe he had her so close to the edge, and his hands had hardly made it south of her waistline. Sometimes, I can be such an idiot. “Don’t you dare leave me hanging,” she ordered. She tried to pull away again, but he held her firmly.
“But Laura, we’ve got all the time in the world for once. It’s just not the kind of thing that needs to be rushed. Besides,” he grinned lasciviously, “you made me wait.”
She sighed. “I guess I asked for that.”
In answer, he swirled his tongue across her lips and dove into the kiss while she tried not to move, despite the fact that every inch of her skin was sensitized and burning to be touched. And again, even slower than before, he traced his tongue down her neck, paying special attention to the freckles scattered across her breast and shoulders.
The sight of those dappled marks filled Remington with unholy glee. In four years, he could count on one hand the number of times Laura wore an outfit where they could really be seen. The first time he danced with her, she wore a red dress with nary a strap across her shoulders, leaving every mark on display. Since then, each time he caught a peek in the open vee of her shirt or the occasional scoop neckline, he remembered how lovely she looked with the spattering of freckles dashed across her. He nipped lightly at them before resuming his path to her breasts. Again he teased and tortured the responsive peaks, but this time he suckled deeply and long, pushing her right over the edge.
He leaned on his elbow so he could watch her, reveling in the shocks coursing through her body. His own throbbed in response. Keen to demonstrate his devotion, he pressed one hand to himself in hopes that he could stifle the pressure long enough to make this a night to remember. What he wanted to do was drag her up against the nearest wall and pound into her over and over again. But if Daniel had drummed anything into his skull, it was to be a gentleman, and a true gentleman gave his partner pleasure time and again before taking his own.
Of course, this was assuming that your partner desired a passive seduction where the man did all the work. Laura was neither an innocent nor carelessly experienced, and she considered herself intelligent and creative. Once she recovered from her first orgasm at Remington’s hands, she unlocked the ardor for him she'd stashed away for all those years.
When he shifted to kiss her neck, she pulled her hands free and used her martial arts training to flip him onto his back and land astride his body. As she settled onto his hips, his stiffness pressed firmly into her heat, and Remington had to close his eyes briefly as his shaft twitched--hard. Slow up a bit, mate. He tried to visualize a calming scene, but having Laura clad in only a wispy black bra while she straddled him scrambled his brains. When she began rocking against him, his mind stuttered, and all the blood rushed south.
His hands came up to caress her waist and to slip a strap off her shoulder. Impatient, she reached back to divest herself of her bra. Startled, he smiled up at her. “Can’t wait a bit, can you?”
“Just want you to keep up the pace, Mr. Steele.”
He hummed a bit and leaned up to kiss her throat. “I’ll be doing that, love.” With a flick of the fingers, Remington loosened the catch. He pulled the damp lingerie from her and tossed it to the side.
Laura stilled completely, her eyes growing wide at hearing the endearment again. But his arousal brought her back to reality, and she shoved his turtleneck up and over his head. He helped her by giving it one last tug that flexed his pecs, and her eyes gleamed while she drew her hands down his firmly-muscled torso.
She pressed her lips to the furred chest and rubbed her face in the black hair. “Mmmm, I’ve wanted to do that for ever so long.” She raked her unpainted nails softly across his nipples. His pectoral muscles danced and twitched, and he grew even harder when she drew her tongue across each one in turn.
Remington’s efforts to stem his pleasure were increasingly less successful as Laura rocked against him and rubbed her slender naked torso along his. She leaned over to shove away the last of his shirt from his wrist when he took a pale breast into his mouth and rimmed her nipple with his tongue, causing her to nearly collapse over him. He yanked at her slacks until they came free and then slid his hands into her soaked black panties. He lifted her until she straddled him again.
She bit her lips as his fingers slipped and glided, then finally pressed against that tangled knot of nerves. He plucked her like a violin string while she chanted his name. She gave that up as the pleasure peaked and her legs tightened in a vice-like grip.
Remington pulled Laura to him as she shuddered. He couldn’t resist tasting his fingers that were still moist with her essence. She took note, her brown eyes widening again, finding it outrageously erotic.
She slid free of his grasp and stood up next to the bed, dropping the wet underwear to the floor. In the dancing candlelight, he could see her peaked nipples, glistening thighs and the faint blush across her skin. He reached for her, only to have her lightly slap away his hands.
“No. My turn.” No courtesan could match Laura’s avaricious smirk. Remington grinned appreciatively and toed off his shoes and socks. She carefully unbuttoned his slacks, “accidentally” bumping around and sliding her hands along his throbbing heat. She spent long minutes stroking and tugging off his briefs, biting her lip again as he clutched a headboard, sheet, pillow--or whatever else he could find--during her ministrations.
When he was stripped bare and entirely exposed, Laura’s face warmed. She was no stranger to lovemaking, but seeing her dearest friend stretched across the bed reminded her of all the wild fantasies she had envisioned about him. It seemed that one or two of them started out this way ... but she had forgotten one minor, well, major detail.
“Blushing bride tonight?” Remington grinned again. He always found it endearing when Laura became aggressive. He loved her passion and he loved to match that passion, but he also found her periodic hesitations just as appealing. Sitting up on one arm, he tugged her to him.
She took the opportunity to stroke firmly down his long length with a finger, causing him to jerk violently. “I don’t know why I assumed you would be circumcised, but this ... this is lovely.”
“Ah, Good Lord, Laura, don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop.” Her single touch jolted his core. He panted for a moment. “Are you implying that you, ah, haven’t played with one like this before.”
“Mmm, no, can’t say that I have. And as a very thorough private investigator, I’m certain I need to do extensive research into the matter.” She gently stroked the foreskin, sliding it back and forth over the top of the pulsing head. He tried his best to remain perfectly still but lost the battle when she covered him with her mouth. He wove his fingers in her hair while she suckled, sometimes hard, sometimes softly. When she curved a soft hand around the base and squeezed, he jumped as pleasure streaked through his entire being.
He had wholly underestimated her effect on him. To know in the darkest shadows of his heart that Laura wanted him, without reservation, awed and humbled him. Each time her body pressed against his, he shuddered with need. Each time she responded to his lightest touch, his own desires heightened. And tonight, after four long years of keeping him at bay, she was holding nothing back. Thank God.
Before he lost all sensibility, he dragged her up and over his body for a drugging kiss. Laura tried to sit astride him once again, but Remington had a few practiced moves of his own. He rolled her to her back and braced himself above her.
“No, darling, some things are meant to be done a certain way, at least the first time.” Laura protested his arrogance and tried to move, but Remington tangled his hands in hers over her head, letting his full weight rest on her briefly. As he brushed his mouth to hers, she felt him resting just at her entrance. Slick and hot, her tight passage clenched and spasmed while he pressed inward. She squeezed his hands hard and sucked in her breath, feeling like a butterfly pinned to paper. While she was certainly not an innocent, five years was a long time. And he wasn’t exactly packing lightly for the trip.
He trembled as he sank into her hot, wet heat. He heard her gasp and felt the sudden tension in her body. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he struggled not to move. Icy calm, icy calm, icy calm, he chanted in his head. Bloody hell, that’s not working. With Laura’s inner muscles squeezing down on him and her fingers gripping his own, Remington’s ability to think was rapidly compromised as jolts of pleasure coursed through his lean body.
He murmured, “Hold on, love,” and held her tightly until she accepted all of his length and began lifting her pelvis. Remington rocked back on his forearms and withdrew partially as Laura’s hips bucked in protest.
“No, no, come back,” she coaxed. Still holding his hands, she wrapped her legs around his hips and took him deeper. The feel of his intact shaft sliding in to the hilt set up a whole new host of sensations inside Laura.
He fought for time, waiting until he felt her body respond involuntarily to his long slow strokes. When she did, she clutched at his hands, holding on. Their passion rose, crested and in the moment before he lost control, Remington demanded, “Laura, look at me. I love you, Laura.”
Glazed brown eyes opened and caught stormy blue ones, “I love you, Remington.”
"Laura!”
They panted in time with each other. He released his grip on her hands and she brought them down to stroke his back, reveling in the weight of his long body covering hers. He leaned into her fingers, causing her to arch and shudder again as the motion drove him against her throbbing bud again. He held her, stroking her hair and neck, while he whispered in her ear, “Shhh, I’ve got you, let it happen, love.” Still buried inside her body, Remington could feel every contraction and shiver. He smiled into her hair and rocked gently against her. In moments, she moaned softly, and his name caught on her breath again.
Now he eased from her, kissing away her protests and using a single digit to slide down her body, circling her nipple twice before heading south to play in her belly button. Laura closed her eyes at the sensation, only to pop them open again when she felt his body weight shift to the foot of the bed. She didn’t want to admit that she was so sensitized to his touch that the merest brush of a finger in the right place would send her into orbit yet again.
“Where are you going?” she managed to get out.
“I didn’t get dessert.” He blew lightly across her thighs, making her shiver again. He drew a finger along the outside of her most intimate folds. When she shifted to give him better access, he smiled at her response. He stroked on the outer edges until he felt her heat rising, then pressed against that tangled knot of nerves, using tapping, feathering strokes that drove her wild. He stopped abruptly and blew softly, sending cold air into her core, before he covered her with his mouth.
Laura’s mind recoiled while her body demanded more. Much more. “But ... we ... you ... ”
“Afraid?” he murmured, catching her eyes. She nodded with what wits were about her. “To taste myself in you is highly erotic to me. You’re mine, Laura. And I’ve waited far too long not to savor this.” With that, Remington slid his hands under her hips, lifting them and taking possession of her with his tongue--sucking, laving, and diving deep--until she screamed his name and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
This time, he snuggled with her, wrapping the blankets around them. She buried her nose in his silky chest hair, breathing in his warm, musky scent, and nestled in his arms while he sketched designs in her flesh with his fingertip.
She wasn’t sure what to say. She had always enjoyed sex, but Remington seemed to have all the right tools at hand even before she knew there were locks on her body to be picked. And her mind circled time and again on the words he had said: I love you, Laura.
Actually, he was thinking much the same thing. The suave connoisseur of the female form had been brought to his knees by the same woman who had managed to intrigue his brain and keep him at bay for four long years. The results of their joining made any other tryst pale in comparison. He loved her to distraction and he exulted in the pleasure she found at his hands. He groaned, already anticipating having her again. Judging by his current state, it wouldn’t be long.
Laura heard Remington’s low moan and chuckled. She tipped her head back and slid a leg around his hip. “Perhaps dessert wasn’t enough?”
*****
Morning sun shed a warm glow throughout the master’s suite. Remington woke to find his exhausted bride sprawled face down across the wide expanse of the bed. The white sheet barely covered her backside, leaving her toned legs on luscious display.
I always said I was a leg man. He grinned to himself. Rolling to her, he skimmed a hand down her spine and played with the sensitive area just at her waist.
“Done toufff muff,” she mumbled into her pillow. She twitched as his fingers ignited little sparks all over.
“What was that again, Laura, love?” Remington swirled his middle finger across the bare skin.
“I SAID: don’t touch me.” She rolled over to face him with a sleepy smile. “Oh, God, I’m sore.”
“Well, then,” he whispered in her ear, “I’ll just have to be very, very gentle.” He pushed her back down on her stomach and feathered soft kisses up her back, making her shiver in response.
“Remington!” she yipped.
“Yes, darling?” he whispered again as he tickled the sides of her breasts.
“I’m really, really sore!”
“Hmmm, down here?” She jolted as he continued, “Ah, I think I see the problem. I’ll just massage those tense muscles and work the pain right out.”
Truth be told, he was a bit on the tender side himself, but the sight of a very naked Laura in his bed combined with the hours of remembered passion and laughter of the night before served well to step up his morning appetite. Not to mention it had been quite some time since he was able to indulge in a morning dalliance. Remington stroked her body into gentle pleasure.
“You’re kidding me, right?” She squirmed at the sensations he was causing. “Perhaps I should return the favor.” She reached across to wrap her hand around his hardening shaft, but at her first touch, his eyes nearly crossed and he scrambled backwards off the bed.
“Ah, no, perhaps not.”
Laura bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she crawled after him and threw her arms around his waist, pulling him back towards her. He landed in her lap, and they sprawled together on the bed. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pressing kisses to his back and playing with the hair on his chest. “Ha! I win!” she taunted him.
But Remington cleverly turned in her embrace and rolled so that she was sitting astride his body. He folded his hands behind his head and arched a brow, daring her.
Utterly unable to resist the challenge, she pressed kisses to his chest and stroked his body with her fingertips. Neither of them could handle much sensation this morning, but their imaginations took them where their bodies couldn’t.
Laura’s hands feathered over Remington’s body with the lightest of touches and her lips whispered kisses in their wake. From his toes to his hair, she stroked his skin and warmed it with her breath. She avoided those sensitive areas in favor of furthering her exploration of his body, and by the light of day, she discovered little things about him that she had missed the night before. Such as the fact that he shivered when she drew her tongue along that little patch of skin just below his ear. He twitched whenever she blew across his nipple. And he had very ticklish feet, but he loved having his toes nibbled.
He reveled in her touch, closing his eyes and floating along as his body awakened. He jolted when she finished her exploration and blew lightly on his arousal before straddling him and sinking down along his shaft. They both winced at the first contact, but pain turned into pleasure as she rose up and sank down, taking them both slowly up the precipice.
He pulled his hands from behind his head, but Laura neatly trapped them in hers, pinning them to the bed with her weight. Laura could feel Remington harden even further as he edged toward his own release. She let go of his hands and sat up straight, letting him pierce her to the core: once, twice, and the third time she came apart.
He had planned to let her ride, but when she sat up, he opened his eyes and drank in the sight of his wife lost in pleasure as she climaxed and dragged him with her over the edge. When she settled on his chest, he held her as if she were made of the most fragile glass, feeling if as he had come home from a long journey.
*****
Sometime later, Laura finally staggered out of bed and into a steaming hot shower cleverly tucked into what used to be a tiny sitting room of the old castle. She left Remington tangled in the sheets and snoring softly. Good Lord. She had always thought he would be an incredible lover, but she never quite imagined he would entirely live up to her fantasies.
After their first intense round of lovemaking, Remington had unleashed all of the bedroom skills he had developed over the years, keeping Laura at his mercy for most of the night. Each time she thought his thirst for her was slaked, he had changed the pace and the mood again. She had never laughed as much during sex as she had last night, and he had considered her body fair game for his explorations.
She already wanted him again. But that’s just going to have to wait a while. I need food. And I may not be able to close my legs for a week.
Turning off the water with a cool, enameled bath handle, she had to admire the way the castle renovators blended modern conveniences with the antique structure. She stepped out to find a thick towel and Remington’s bathrobe draped over the towel warmer. In his usual discrete fashion, he must have slipped in and turned it on while she showered. It was an honest fact that he spoiled her ridiculously when she allowed it--and even when she didn’t.
Laura wrapped herself in the blue robe and combed out her wet hair. She peeked into the bedroom, only to find Remington casually propped up at a small table set with white roses and silver serving pieces.
“Now aren’t you a lovely sight this morning. Lunch?” he asked as he folded the paper he was reading.
“Mmmm, sounds wonderful.” She rounded the table to drop a light kiss on his cheek. “What are we having?”
“You?” Remington pulled Laura down on his lap, laughing at her startled shriek. Giggling like a besotted teen-ager, she kissed him, then wiggled off his lap and sat down across from him. He pretended annoyance. “Consommé and a light pasta salad, apparently.”
“Sounds perfect.” She dipped her spoon in the broth.
While the lovers fairly inhaled their food, they chatted lightly about Mickeline and Mildred and the castle itself. When they were done, Remington rang for a servant to take away the remains of their repast while Laura dressed in casual slacks and a sweater. She dried her hair as he, quite comfortable with his nudity, stepped into the shower to her admiring glances. From under the spray, he called out, “What shall we do today, Laura, love?”
She smiled at the endearment. “You know, Mr. Steele, I really don’t care to see anyone but you today.”
“Then perhaps we shall take a walk about the grounds again, Mrs. Steele?”
“Sounds wonderful.” She noted that they were back to “Mrs. Steele” again and wondered what it signified.
She tidied the bedroom, marveling at the fact they were quite compatible in this area. Both of them preferred neat, stylish homes. They would have to work out exactly where they were to live, but she thought they might end up in Remington’s condominium. She originally purchased the flat and furnished it when “Remington Steele” was a figment of her imagination. Remington had certainly put his mark on it, but she still loved the place. Truth be told, she was always a bit jealous that she never lived in it.
When he appeared in cords and a rugged sweater, with his hair slightly damp and curling at the neck, she thought she might have to revisit the promise she made her body this morning to give it a break until this evening--until she saw the troubled expression on his face.
“What is it?”
He crossed to the table where he had laid the newspaper and gave it to her. On the front page it was mentioned that Daniel Chalmers would be laid to rest today in London. A smaller subtext noted that KGB official Sergei Kemadov was to be laid to rest in Moscow at nearly the same time. “I thought it wouldn’t bother me, but it does, Laura.” He stared at Daniel’s picture in the paper. “I miss him. Which is rather silly if you ask me. I’ve gone years without seeing him.”
She put her arm around his waist. “It’s different now. Perhaps you had more to lose today than you did a week ago.”
*****
They walked in the garden and Remington fell back into a brooding silence. This time though, with Laura by his side, he was able to think clearly and work through his sadness. Her quiet presence comforted and strengthened him.
They were late returning for lunch though, and by the time they ate, she was yawning beside him.
“Hmmm, up late last night?”
“Someone was restless.” She smiled. “Come with me and we’ll take a nap together. Just a nap. No hanky-panky.” She waggled her finger at him.
But he shook his head. While walking, he’d come to several conclusions and needed to set a couple of things in motion. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.”
“Will you be okay?”
“I promise.” He kissed her knuckles. She pressed her hand to his cheek and then touched her lips to his before climbing the stairs to sleep.
After having a long, very realistic discussion by telephone with Mildred, Remington closeted himself with Mickeline, the castle’s major domo, to decide what do to with Ashford Castle. While the idea of owning it was fun, even he could see that it served no purpose in his and Laura’s life. The taxes for it alone could bury them in just a few short years.
Mickeline had toyed with the idea of making the place a hotel some time ago, but the Earl of Claridge was far more interested in a token ownership of the sprawling estate than in making it a going concern. Remington, though, had no intention of being an absentee landlord. He and Mickeline struck a deal that satisfied both of them. The castle would be given over to the servants; in return, he and Laura had a place to stay in Ireland whenever they wanted and would earn a percentage of the hotel’s profits.
He signed papers to that effect and then sent Mickeline to Los Angeles that very afternoon to work out the rest of the deal with Mildred. Of course, the major domo managed to spread the word to every single servant at the estate in the meantime. Remington and Laura were lucky to get a lukewarm dinner that night since all the new owners were scurrying about as they planned their own great party.
Afterward, they watched the news coverage of the two funerals from the little sofa facing the television. He had his arm stretched out across the back of the loveseat and she was lying with her head in his lap. Remington couldn't remember Laura ever taking that sort of liberty with him and found it endearing.
"In London, a military funeral was held today for the man who spearheaded the exposure--and subsequent capture--of British Intelligence double agent Sterling Fitch. In gratitude for his heroics, Daniel Chalmers was posthumously knighted."
"In a related ceremony in Moscow, a high ranking KGB official, Sergei Kemadov, was given a hero's burial, for what the Kremlin ambiguously described as 'assorted heroic activities on behalf of the state.' "
When the newscast finished the brief story, Remington clicked off the TV with the remote. Laura had a smile on her face when she turned to look up at him. “Only Daniel could end up being buried as a national hero in both London and Moscow.”
Nodded, he stared at the blank television. "It's the ultimate con. He deserves nothing less."
She placed her hand over his. "You're a good son."
He let out a soft laugh. "I only wish I could have spent more time with him."
"On the other hand, you spent twenty years with him."
"Yeah." He tossed the remote away and put both arms around her, really looking at her this time. "Well, one thing's for certain. I'm not going to waste precious time showing people who are close to me how I feel for them." With resolve, he leaned down and kissed her, stroking her neck with his fingers--only be surprised when she shifted off his lap and away from his embrace.
Yet she surprised him by holding out her hand. "Care to elaborate, Mr. Steele?"
The invitation was unmistakable. "Well," he stood up and swept her into his arms, “we have the castle to ourselves, Mrs. Steele."
Surprised, she linked her arms around his neck, then looked around as he carried her toward the stairs. "Where are the servants?"
"Out celebrating," he told her. "I decided to give them the castle."
"Hmm. That was awfully generous of your lordship."
"The act of a desperate lord, I assure you."
"Where's Mildred?" The suspicion in her voice should have made him laugh, for the woman had interrupted them one too many times, but he was too distracted as he plotted his net move.
"I decided to give her Mickeline."
"There's nothing between us and the bedroom door?" she asked as he paused at the bottom of the stairs.
"Uh uh." But the phone started to ring.
Laura slipped out of his arms and straightened his collar. "I'll get the phone. You turn down the
covers." She gave him a light kiss on the lips.
"Hmm hmm." He pretended to shoot the phone as he continued upstairs, brooding a little over the
newscast as he ascended the stairs.
*****
Laura answered the antique phone with unusually good-humor. Having Remington waiting upstairs had a great deal to do with that. "Hello?"
"Well," Tony told her, "they finally released me."
"I never doubted it for a moment." She smiled as she glanced up the stairs, wondering how fast she could dump Tony off the line.
"I still think Steele's plan was a little risky."
"Kemadov cleared you, didn't he?" she asked absent-mindedly.
"Laura, listen, what we talked about earlier still stands," Tony's voice was low, as if he were trying to be seductive.
"Laura!" Remington called out from the bedroom.
Not wanting to create a problem at the moment, she insisted, "This really isn't the best time to discuss that, Tony."
"Laura, I'm not gonna give up on you."
"Laura! The bed's turned down!"
Laura was distracted by Remington’s voice. "I have to go--right now."
"Okay, when can I see you?" Tony was persistent.
"Fluffing up pillows!" Remington called down again.
"Coming!" Laura called back. "I gotta go. Bye!" she told Tony. She dropped the phone on the cradle and ran up the first flight of stairs where Remington met her on the landing. The phone started to ring again. They glanced at it, but she put her arms around his neck. “Let it ring.” Kissing her, he swung her up into his arms and carried her up the short flight of stairs to their room. The phone stopped ringing.
The candles had been cleared from the bedroom, but the scent of the beeswax from the night before lingered in the air. Remington let Laura’s feet touch the ground once more, without letting her out of his embrace.
But when he turned the lights out, the phone began ringing again. They tried to ignore it for a few moments, but she finally stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs. “This better be good,” she snapped to the caller.
“Laura, don’t hang up on me again.”
“Tony, give it up. I’ve made my choice and it’s not you.”
“But you said--”
“Tony, I’ve said lots of things in the past two months that didn’t make any sense. If you and that idiot Keyes had left Mr. Steele and me alone in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this ridiculous conversation.”
“Are you telling me you don’t think he married you just to keep the INS off his back?”
“Tony, we would have come around to it sooner or later. Now would you leave us alone?”
Laura jumped as Remington’s arm came around her waist. With the other hand he took the receiver from her. “Antony.”
She was close enough to hear both sides of the conversation. “Steele.”
“We’re on our honeymoon. Do you think you could give us a break here?”
“Honeymoon. Then you and Laura--"
“Aye, mate. And it was bloody well worth it. Think again if you’re imagining I’ll back off.”
“But Laura--"
“Laura knows I love her, Antony. Now do me a favor, old chap, and go away.”
“For now, Steele. For now.”
Remington quietly put the phone down and disconnected the cord.
Laura was contrite. “I’m sorry, Remington. I didn’t want--”
He placed a finger to her lips. “Shh. It’s behind us, remember? We’ve made our explanations, and you warned me about Antony. I don’t blame him for wanting you. But he won’t interfere in our lives anymore. I’ve had about as much of that as I can handle for one lifetime.” While he was talking, he drew her back to the staircase where they ascended together.
She shut the door behind them and locked it while he pulled a bottle of wine from the hidden wine safe and poured each of them a glass. She noted the worry and strain that were back in his eyes when he crossed over to hand her one. She set it on the table beside her, untouched. Remington sipped his before placing it beside hers.
He took her face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her. She could tell his heart wasn’t in it but was trying to be romantic for her sake. When he tried to deepen the kiss, Laura cupped one of his hands and pressed a kiss into the palm. “Tonight, love, I don’t think I could ask.”
He looked confused for a moment, and then his face cleared as he remembered the time he gave those words to her.
“Go get into bed, Mr. Steele. It’s been a difficult day.”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
“With you. Oh, and pajamas are optional ... remember?” That comment elicited a chuckle out of him as he wandered off to the bathroom.
By the time Laura finished dressing for bed, Remington had stretched out under the covers with his blue eyes following her every move. She wore a pink cotton camisole and matching pajama shorts, aiming for pretty but nothing too obviously seductive. She felt a little awkward sliding under the sheets with him, wondering where he wanted her. Wilson always insisted that she sleep on her own side of the bed without touching him.
“Roll over, Laura.” She did, lying on her side. Remington pulled her to him so that they nestled like a couple of spoons. She sighed in contentment as she snuggled in next to him. She realized all he had on was a pair of silk boxer shorts. His hairy chest tickled where her camisole rode up at her waist, but he radiated heat, luring her into sleep in minutes.
*****
He heard that sweet sigh and placed a kiss on the back of her neck, grateful for her understanding. He didn’t doubt that he could summon up the energy to make love to her, but it didn’t feel right tonight with Daniel being laid to rest. With his free hand, he stroked Laura’s hair. He smiled as the silky locks clung to his fingers, and he realized he would just have to learn to live with the long strands sticking to his face while they slept.
He rested his arm on her bare waist and laced his fingers with hers. Tomorrow would be different.
Chapter 2 -- New Beginnings
Poetic License disclaimer:
For the purposes of this
story, I am placing the
incident with the tuna
boat in the very early part
of the year. Yes, I know
it can be firmly argued
that it happened in May,
but I felt that Laura and
Remington were dressed
far too warmly for Ireland
in high summer by the
time they got there. Just
go with it. Hopefully,
you’ll enjoy the ride.
Many, many thanks to
Wilma for beta-reading
this entire book. Without
her, I would not have had
to courage to finish and
post this story. Any
errors are mine, not hers.
The story begins during
the last episode, “Steeled
With a Kiss, Part 2.”
Special thanks to Nancy
for the episode
transcript.
I do not take credit for
the dialogue from the
episode or the characters,
just everything else.
For the purposes of this
story, I am placing the
incident with the tuna
boat in the very early part
of the year. Yes, I know
it can be firmly argued
that it happened in May,
but I felt that Laura and
Remington were dressed
far too warmly for Ireland
in high summer by the
time they got there. Just
go with it. Hopefully,
you’ll enjoy the ride.
Many, many thanks to
Wilma for beta-reading
this entire book. Without
her, I would not have had
to courage to finish and
post this story. Any
errors are mine, not hers.
The story begins during
the last episode, “Steeled
With a Kiss, Part 2.”
Special thanks to Nancy
for the episode
transcript.
I do not take credit for
the dialogue from the
episode or the characters,
just everything else.