Steeling a Dream
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
Steele Holting On
Chapter 9  Plans

For their second anniversary, Laura booked a special trip to Ireland, taking care to fly through Cork International Airport, well away from Dublin.  The servants-come-owners at Ashford Castle were thrilled to welcome back the Steeles and prepared a very special suite for them.

They never arrived.


Sir, Mr. Steele’s coming to Ireland.

You’re sure?

Yes, sir.  Steele and his wife are arriving tomorrow afternoon.

Good job, kid.  You’ll have a bonus next payday.


The Steeles landed in Cork City and headed directly for the Rochestown Park Hotel where Laura had booked the Presidential Suite for the night.  They had a long drive tomorrow to Ashford Castle and needed time to recover from the late flight.

The bellhop brought their luggage and carried them into the bath suite.  “Do you wish for unpacking services?” he asked.

“Ah, no, thank you.”  Remington slipped him a generous tip.

The young man nodded.  “Good day, sir.”

It had been a long flight, compounded by a delay in New York City that resulted in an almost fourteen-hour trip.  If one figured in the time of day, travel time to the airport and security delays, the Steeles had been awake for nearly thirty hours.  Laura staggered into the bathroom, ignoring the stunning black marble countertops atop the white wooden cabinets.  She unzipped her cosmetics case and dug around for her facial cleanser.  “All I want is a shower and a bed.  Sorry, Rei, you might have to wait until morning.”  She yawned enormously.

“I’m not sure I’ll argue with you on that, love.”  He pulled off his sweater.  Laura dove into the shower, steaming up the bathroom.  Remington warmed up his own washcloth and pressed it to his face.  He glanced into his wife’s makeup bag, noticing her brand new set of birth control pills tucked into the side compartment.  In his own exhausted state, he was barely thinking when he palmed the case and hid it in the lining of his own luggage.  Then he stripped out of his clothes and tumbled into bed.  He heard Laura shut off the shower.

She rummaged around in her case for a few moments and then found her moisturizer and a simple baby doll pajama top.  She crawled into bed and he dropped his arm across her waist.  They were both asleep in moments


I got a call today.  He brought his wife.

Good.  Then we’ll stay with the original plan.  How long are they to stay at the hotel?

They check out tomorrow afternoon.  They’ve got a limo and driver arranged for the next two weeks.

That’s our link.  Get on it.  I want them both, but separate them.  You know how to do it.

Yes, sir.

You’ve got the others in place?

I will shortly.

Call me when you have them.

Yes, sir.


The pair slept nearly thirteen hours until the late morning sun began peeking through the cracks in the drapes.  Still nestled with Laura, Remington woke, or rather, more impertinent parts of him insistently nudged him awake.  Cuddled up to his deliciously warm wife, he stroked her shoulders, down her arms, to her hips and back again.  When she began to stretch and press into his body, he covered her breast, stroking its fullness before settling in to circle and tease the sensitive tips.  Once they peaked, his hands drifted down her belly, pulling her firmly against him.

She woke fully, opening her eyes with a smile.

Without a word, Remington pushed her to lie on her stomach while he stroked her backside and teased her dampening cleft.  He rose over her, sliding kisses down her neck and spine, then tasting the sensitive area at the small of her back.  Her legs split apart, beckoning, as sparks jolted her small frame.  He couldn’t help nipping that beautiful bottom as it twitched.  Remington slid a hand between her legs, teasing and touching until she was writhing in delight.

Laura felt him straddle her and press firmly against her entrance.  She wiggled, trying to ease him inside, but he was having none of it, concentrating instead on kissing each freckle dusted across her neck and back.  His tongue drew shivers across her skin.

Remington loved Laura’s responsiveness and the sheer thrill of drawing pleasure from her body.  She left him no doubt that she loved each and every thing he did to her.  God knows, she could arouse him just with a look.  Passionate and as insatiable as he, she gave her own creative spin to lovemaking that matched his ardor.

Now, breathing softly in her ear, he held her captive with most of his weight resting on her.  He held utterly still while the anticipation of his entry drove Laura closer to the edge.  Her imaginative brain was his best friend as she feverishly awaited his next move.

“Rei,” she pleaded, and then gasped when he pushed up completely off her, pulling away entirely.  Bereft, she started to roll over, but he stopped her by drawing her to her knees by her hips.  At the same time, he slid all the way inside her in one smooth motion.  She grabbed for the headboard as he pumped his hips, driving her hard and fast.  When she leaned into him, pushing him even farther into her depths, he clenched his jaw.  When she circled her own hips, he lost control--thrusting deep inside her again and again--until she cried out his name.  Uttering hers under his breath, he clutched her to him and found his own release.

They collapsed as they were with Remington buried deep inside Laura and both of them panting for breath.  Moments, or maybe hours later, he rolled off her, and she stretched like a sleepy cat.  “Now  that’s my idea of a wakeup call.”  

He took her hand and planted a kiss on the knuckles.  “Anytime, love.”  They lay side-by-side in
comfortable, lazy silence until Laura’s stomach rumbled.  “Good Lord, woman, if you’re hungry, why didn’t you say something.”  He rolled to his side and propped up his head.

“I think I just did.  Want to call in for breakfast?”

“Mmm, I can do that.”

While Remington arranged for food, Laura headed for the elegant bathroom.  Grey marble with delicate black veins lined the walls.  Fresh lavender decorated the countertop, imparting a fresh clean flavor to the air.  She dove into the shower again, this time scrubbing her hair clean and taking quick swipes with her razor.  With a thick white towel wrapped around her head, she completed her morning toilette.  Hunting around, she dug for the packet of pills she was sure she tucked in the case before they left.

“Remington?”

“Mmmm?”  He relaxed on the bed, appreciating the coverlet that combined a 1940’s black, white and brown motif with an art deco flair.  He flicked on the television and zipped through half a dozen channels.

“I can’t find my birth control pills.  I thought I packed them.”  Laura began to panic.  “Uh oh.”

Remington clicked off the TV and strolled into the bathroom.  “What’s wrong?”

“I was supposed to start a new pill pack on Thursday, but I forgot to take one before I packed.  I figured I could just take two when we got here, but I was so tired yesterday, I forgot then too.  If I can’t find them today, I’ll miss three--and I can’t remember, but now it might be too late to start them.”  Laura’s face paled.

“Would that be such a terrible thing?”  Remington asked, watching her intently.

“I don’t know.”  She crossed her arms tightly.

“Laura, don’t block me out.  We need to talk about this.”  He drew her to the bed and sat down on the edge before pulling her into his lap.  “What if you did become pregnant?  With our child?”  He stroked her arms lightly.

She laid her head on his shoulder for several minutes while her brain sifted through the possibilities.  She clicked on the optimistic tone in his voice.

He began a mental list of all the reasons they should start a family.  He was on number eight when she raised her head to look him straight in the eye.

“I think it would be wonderful.”

His heart nearly stopped.  Did she really say that?  Dumping her off his lap, he stood, quite shocked.

Laura laughed as she sprawled on the bed.  “Not what you were expecting, I guess.”

He dashed to the bathroom and retrieved her pills from his case.  Standing in the doorway, he held them up for her to see.  “You’re sure?”

“Remington Daniel Harrison Steele, you lifted my pills!”

“I did.  Do you want them?”  He stared at her intently.  The air grew still and quiet with only the hum of the heater in the background.

“No.”

He froze for a moment, then ripped the foil packet out of the case and flushed all twenty-eight pills down the toilet at once.  

“I guess I won’t change my mind,” Laura snorted.  Then she laughed out loud at Remington’s chagrined expression.

“Bloody hell, what did I just do, Laura?”

She wrapped her arms around him as he stared into the clean white bowl.  “Well, for starters, you took the decision right out of our hands.”

They stared at the toilet for a moment more.  “I suppose I could go get condoms.”  Remington winced at the thought.  One of the perks of being married was never having to wear one of the blasted things again.  “Assuming it’s not already too late for that.”

“Do you really want to?”  It was Laura’s turn to wait for his answer.

He turned in her embrace, leaning his forehead against hers.  “No.”



The pair devoured their food in the dining room of their suite, scraping up every last bite of the hearty Irish breakfast Remington ordered.  “Mmm, Laura, I’m quite impressed.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat so much at one time.”

“We missed dinner last night and maybe even lunch.  Airplanes just don’t offer much for food anymore.”  Laura yawned and stretched in her chair.  She glanced at the clock.  “You know, darling, I have to confess, I forgot about jetlag when I scheduled us to stay only one night here.  I have absolutely no interest in getting in the car for a four-hour trip to Ashford today even if someone else is doing the driving.”

“Hmmm, let’s see what we can do about that.”  Remington reached for the phone on the side table and punched the number for the concierge.

“Steele here. ...  Yes, everything is quite all right. ...  Tell me, is this suite available tonight as well? ...  For the rest of the week. ...  Thanks, mate, we’ll let you know when we’re ready to leave.”

“Now, darling, I’ve found my schedule is suddenly clear for the rest of the day.  What do you think we should do about it?”  He nibbled on her shoulder.

“You’re insatiable!”

“Perhaps.  I’ll have you know I have at least another two or three years to make up.”  Remington loved reminding Laura of the long years of their association that not once included anything more than kisses.  Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to bed.  “Then again, given our present circumstances, I’m quite certain I’m supposed do my part in getting you pregnant.”  He stifled her immediate protest with a hungry kiss.

Laura loved the thousand moods of Remington Steele.  He could be anything from a pure gentleman whose only desire was pleasing his partner to a raging lover bent on possessing every inch of her.  He was often funny, even silly in their lovemaking.

Today, he was tender, trailing his fingers over her body, lightly tasting each sensitive inch.  He relished her equally loving caresses.  He shivered as she softly blew across his skin after heating it with a kiss.  They made slow, sweet love in the long afternoon.


Sir, the Steeles called for their limo.

Excellent.


Laura dressed for a casual dinner in black corduroy slacks and a bisque sweater layered over a black turtleneck.  The cold air convinced her that boots would be a better choice, but she compromised by wearing the ones with the pretty heel.

Remington shrugged on his own jacket and helped her with her cashmere wrap.  She loved this coat and the many others her husband had conspired with his own tailor to make for her.  Last Christmas, he finally weaned her from carrying a clutch everywhere when he surprised her with a very unique coat.  Fashionable and warm, it held a myriad of sleek pockets to hold all the things she insisted on having with her.  The pockets were cleverly concealed in the plackets, seams and linings of the thick cashmere so that even when patted down, it would be impossible to know she carried anything at all.  Over the past few months, sexy new jackets, cloaks and coats in all weights and styles appeared in her closet.  It was fun learning to be discrete in a whole new way.

Today, she had her identification, money, credit cards, lipstick and a slim pair of sunglasses that Remington picked out in a little shop in Cork on their way to the hotel.  Of course, he also made an extra stop at a place he knew to be certain she carried a few tricks of his former trade: lock picks, a slender pocket knife, the tiniest flask of oil and a petite flashlight.

She fluffed her hair as he planted a quick kiss on her cheek.  “Ready?”

“Ready.”


Ready?

Ready.




Chapter 10 -- Faith