Steeling a Dream
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
Part 1: Diamonds of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Steeling a Dream
Part 2: Under a Steele Dark Sky
Part 2: Under a Steele Dark Sky
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Steele Holting On
Chapter 5 Disclosure
Interpol agent James Buchanan walked through the doors of the SIS building in Vauxhall Cross, also
known as the headquarters of MI6 in London. The director met him at security and cleared him. As
they walked down a short passageway, the director spoke, “We’re glad to have you again, Mr.
Buchanan. As you requested, I’ve arranged for one of our American compatriots to assist the
investigation of the Dublin Six.”
"I appreciate that. We’ve tracked a number of assets to the United States. We’re spread so thin on this
one that we need all the help we can get. We’re too damned close to shutting all of them down to let
anyone wiggle away because of a lack of manpower.”
“I’d heard one was dead and two were behind bars.”
“And I’ve got one more up against the wall. We get him and the other two will fall like dominoes.”
“Excellent. Cunningham is here already, and he’s briefed the American on our operations here, but
he’ll need more details of this incident with O’Callaghan and what you’ve learned from that. I didn’t
have clearance from you to release that information.”
“What’s his name?”
“Tony Roselli.”
The next morning Remington accompanied Laura to the obstetrician. They came away with their heads
stuffed with knowledge, reassurance that the pregnancy was quite for real, a giant bottle of prenatal
vitamins and a prescription for safe pain medication. The expectant father repeatedly raked his hand
through his hair while he took it all in. His wife absorbed the new information with a calm acceptance he
certainly wasn’t feeling.
He thought he’d done a good job covering up his vibrating nerves that day at the office, but at two in the
afternoon, Laura invented a new client they needed to see (a Mr. Thornhill), and they spent the
afternoon watching North by Northwest at the cinema (Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint, MGM, 1959). He
hadn’t been able to concentrate on the movie at all. Instead, he fretted about the conversation they’d had
last evening.
Laura took note of the small gestures indicating Remington’s edginess despite his calm exterior.
Assuming that this was all about his getting used to the idea of being a father, she did her best to soothe
him while giving him time to adjust. She deliberately complained enough about her knee that he insisted
they fill her prescription and go home so she could soak it in the Jacuzzi. Since the movie hadn’t calmed
him, tactic number two involved seducing him in the bubbling waters. She thought she’d succeeded as
they snuggled on the bed for a quick nap afterward.
An hour later, Laura had just sat up when their phone rang, startling Remington from his sleep.
Automatically, he picked up the receiver. “Steele here.”
“Are you ever going to learn to say ‘hello,’ like normal people?” Kathleen’s teasing tones woke him.
“Now why would I want to be just like everyone else, Kate?” He smiled and handed the phone to Laura
without further ado.
She rolled to her side so that the cord draped across her husband while she talked. “Hi, Katy.”
“Oh. Hi, Laura. I hate it when he does that.”
“That’s why he does it,” Laura chuckled while Remington batted the line to keep it from landing on his
throat, gave up and crawled out from underneath it. He sat on the edge of the bed.
“You sound better. A lot better, sis.” Kate sounded relieved.
“I feel better. When are you guys coming down? Murphy was making noises.”
“Actually, we’re both free this weekend. Are you up to it?”
Laura turned to Remington. “This weekend?” she repeated. He shrugged and nodded. “Sure. When?”
“Can we come Thursday and leave on Sunday?”
“I’ve still got therapy on Friday, but otherwise I think one or both of us can clear those days. Do you
want to stay with us, with Mom or with Frances?”
“Your place if you can handle the twin terrors.”
“We’ll manage the twins.” Laura gave Remington a sly look as she and Kate worked out the logistics of
housing the small fry. The last time the young boys had stayed at the Steeles' penthouse, they hadn’t
been very mobile and slept handily in the portable crib borrowed from Frances. This time would require
a little more creativity.
While Laura talked to her sister, Remington closed his eyes in an attempt to shut out the dark thoughts.
He wanted to run. The temptation to simply board the next plane to whatever destination it might take
him in order to get away from this pain was enormous. But he couldn’t walk away from Laura any more
than he could cut out his own heart--for they were one and the same. He didn’t feel trapped; he simply
didn’t know how to cope with the magnitude of guilt he was experiencing on top of the realization that he
was going to be a father and the way Laura had been acting lately.
Nothing in his years as a con artist had taught him how to be in a long-term relationship. Learning had
begun the day he’d decided to step into “Remington Steele’s” shoes, and it hadn’t stopped yet. Anytime
a situation became too difficult prior to that, even with Daniel, Remington would simply leave--finding a
new game to play until matters settled down again of their own accord.
Since meeting Laura, Remington stifled those urges to run by disappearing for a few days here and there
as he learned to deal honestly with his own emotions. In the early days, he’d generally left thinking that
“this was it,” and that he was going to move on. He found, to his irritation, that he couldn’t leave
permanently. Laura, without even knowing that she did, would draw him back in.
Their longest separation--when he’d fled to London looking for his real name--had left both of them
miserable. When they’d returned, their relationship had changed, and he found himself spending nearly
every weekend with Laura--drastically limiting the opportunities for those disappearances without
frightening her into thinking he was going to leave her.
But, once they’d married, he’d only made it six months before giving in and holing up in Vegas for a few
days. Again though, Laura reeled him in--this time by coming after him and helping him deal with the
issues he’d been unable to clarify even for himself. She’d left him there and waited for him to come
home.
Since that day, he’d left only one other time--and he’d told her where and why he was going. Laura had
said she understood when he’d tried to explain. And perhaps she did, but he knew it still played on her
deepest fears of abandonment, and hurting her was the last he wanted to do. Just lately, he’d been
congratulating himself on finding other ways to cope that didn’t involve packing an overnight bag.
But when his mind was roaring at him as it was now, he needed to get out.
After telling her sister goodbye, Laura handed Remington the telephone, which he dropped onto the
cradle. He closed his arms around her, holding her close.
“Still nervous?” she asked. When the silence stretched out, she looked up. His eyes were cool and flat--
a sure indicator that he was concealing something. “Rei?”
He abruptly stood. “I need time, Laura.” Swiftly, he changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants.
Confused by his reaction, her voice was sharper than she intended. “Where are you going?”
He paused at the bedroom door. “Ah, the gym.” She heard him snatch his car keys off the counter and
the snick as he locked the front door behind him.
Laura sat on the bed and wondered what had just happened.
He called later, but he didn’t come home that night. Or the next.
When Murphy and Kate arrived in the limo on Thursday afternoon with cranky toddlers that were
obviously overdue for their nap, Laura did her best to pretend that all was well in the Steele household.
Each of the parents took a child and soothed him until he fell asleep. Aiden promptly sprawled out in the
playpen borrowed from Frances while Ian curled up so that his little bottom poked into the air.
Laura repaired her makeup one more time. She’d been nauseated for much of the last two days and
didn’t want to look it. As she made a last pass in the flat to make certain all looked normal, the sick
feeling came roaring back. She brushed her teeth afterward and, still feeling ill, sat back down on the
bathroom floor.
Kate found her there, resting her head on her knees. She instantly dropped down beside her sister and
began stroking her hair. “Laura? Oh sweetie, what’s wrong? You should have told us you weren’t
feeling well. We could have rescheduled.”
At that, Laura gave her a wan smile. “I’m not sick, Kate.”
“Could have fooled me.” Laura just looked at her for a long moment before dawning understanding
brightened Kate’s face. “Oh. Hello. You’re pregnant. Oh!” Kate hugged Laura and yelled for her
husband. “Murphy … Murphy!”
He popped his head into the bathroom and frowned when he saw the girls on the floor. “Oh, Laura, are
you okay?” But the twins each held out a hand, and he helped them to their feet.
“She’s pregnant.” Kate all but caroled the news, delighted for her twin.
Murphy eyeballed Laura and her tremulous smile before enfolding her in an enormous hug. “Congrats,
old friend. Where’s Steele so I can give him crap about it?” he teased.
But his former partner straightened up and brushed a stray tear away. “I don’t know.” And she walked
out the bathroom door.
Murphy caught her arm. “What do you mean ‘I don’t know’?”
“I mean that after I got off the phone with Kate on Tuesday evening, he said he had to go to the gym. I
haven’t seen him since. He leaves me messages saying that he’ll be back soon.” She squared her
shoulders and told herself not to cry. Damn hormones for sapping my control.
The string of curses that spewed from Murphy was long, creative and included an incomplete list of the
things he was going to do to Steele when he turned up. He spent the next ten minutes grilling Laura
about the facts of the last two days. He ended it with a short four-letter word and asked Laura for her
keys.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m a detective. I’m going to find him.” He held up a hand to stifle her protest. “Laura, I’ve given him
a lot of slack over the years for things he’s done--because he makes you happy. This time … this time
isn’t going to cut it.” He gave her a last hug and then framed Kate’s face with his hands before landing a
hard kiss on her lips. “Take care of Laura. I’ll keep in touch and let you know where I am.”
Murphy drove the Lexus, starting with the gym he knew his brother frequented because somehow, in his
gut, he really didn’t think the man would go very far. The young man at the front desk nodded when
asked if he’d seen Steele. “Sure thing. He’s been in a bunch the last couple of days. Been taking on
nearly anyone who’ll get in the ring.”
“Who’s winning?”
“He is, mostly. But one or two have gone the distance with him and won a bout.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“This morning.”
With a nod to the desk clerk, Murphy settled in to do a little surveillance work. He figured Steele would
make Laura’s car with a glance, so he parked it in a nearby garage and made himself comfortable in a
run-down diner across the street to watch the front door. Four cups of coffee and a deliciously greasy
cheeseburger later, there was still no sign of the missing man when the gym closed for the night.
He called the penthouse from the car phone and Kate answered. “Hi, honey.”
“Found anyone interesting today?” she quipped.
“Not yet, but I do know for certain that he’s somewhere nearby. How’s Laura holding out?”
“At the moment, she’s sleeping. She’s been alternating between making excuses for him and wanting to
murder him the moment he walks through the door.”
“The latter sounds reasonable to me. I’ve got a few other places I want to try.” He disconnected the
phone after telling her he loved her and drove to any place he could remember Laura mentioning: their
old apartments, three favored restaurants, the pool hall that he and Steele patronized and a couple of
different parks. No one had seen him, and now it was after midnight.
It was at the second park that Murphy had a flash of insight. He pointed the car toward the agency.
Sure enough, the Auburn was parked in the garage in its usual spot. He made a quick call to Kate and
then took the elevator to the twelfth floor. Murphy was only one of three people outside the agency who
knew how to disarm the security system. With Laura’s key and his knowledge, he slipped inside the
darkened office without a sound. Light shone from under Steele’s office door.
He found Remington sitting at his desk, dressed neatly in a white button-down shirt and dark slacks.
Murphy smiled, knowing he’d guessed correctly that Steele would return to the office for a shower and
change of clothes. What he wasn’t expecting was to find him buried in paperwork.
“Steele.” The other man looked up with a neutral expression and then went back to reading the file he
was holding. Murphy dropped into the chair across from the desk and put his feet up. “Are you not
speaking to people in general, family in particular or just your wife?”
Shadows crossed Remington’s face as he put the file down.
He looked like hell. Smudges under his eyes and a healthy bruise on his cheekbone stood in sharp
contrast to the tailored clothes he wore. Murphy continued to needle him. “Congratulations, by the
way. Your wife has spent the last two days throwing up in the bathroom because she’s pregnant with
your child. She’s exhausted because she can’t sleep wondering where you are and why you left. And
typical of Laura, she’s covering for you at the office, saying you’ve been pulled out on a case. Mildred
didn’t buy it and let her know exactly why. Now, if you can’t make explanations to her yet, you’re going
to make them to me.”
Remington picked up the file again and pretended to read it. “I’m looking for answers.”
“Damn it, Steele!” Murphy stood up and slapped his hands down on the desk. “Why is it that every
time you need a fucking answer, you have to pull a disappearing act to find it? That crap was only
marginally acceptable before you married; now it shouldn’t even be an option.” He loomed over the
desk, and Remington pushed his chair back to put some distance between them.
“Laura understands. I left a message and told her I’d be back. Actually, I’ve left several.”
The former football player crossed his arms and shot him a hard look. “No, Laura doesn’t understand.
And every time you do it, she gets a little more frightened that one day you’ll have had enough of this life
she created for you.”
“Had enough? Bloody hell, Murphy, I’m doing everything I can to preserve it.” Remington’s distress
exploded from him. “Do you know what she asked me?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued, “She
asked me what I was going to ‘let’ her do in the agency. Her agency. I don’t care what the paperwork
says. This is her agency and it always has been. Does that sound like Laura Holt? This agency is her
dream. Mine is to have a family. Does she have to give up hers so I can have mine?” He spat out the
words in staccato bullets as he threw the file on the stack with the others and stalked around the desk.
Pacing like a panther at the edge of a river, looking for a way across without getting his feet wet, Steele
dragged his hands through his hair repeatedly in his misery. “I’ve been digging through case files--
thinking up ways for her to stay as involved in the agency as she wants to be without putting her in
harm’s way. I’ve been reading through these damned pregnancy books to determine exactly what she
should and shouldn’t do, but none of them has any information on dealing with a headstrong wife that
runs a detective agency.”
“I put in a safe room between our offices two years ago. Do you want to see the plans for turning it into
the nursery I’d always intended it to be so that she wouldn’t have to be torn between being a mother and
a private investigator? She’s damned good at what she does, and I can’t imagine having her give it all up
for me.”
Silence stretched out again before Murphy crossed his arms and leaned against the desk. “Why haven’t
you talked to her about any of this?”
With no little sadness, he answered, “Because she’ll tell me what I want to hear, not what she wants.”
Murphy cocked his head and discovered a small modicum of sympathy for his brother-in-law. “That’s
not a concept I’d normally associate with Laura.”
“Since Ireland, that’s all she’s done,” he snapped again.
“That was nearly a month ago. Have you two … dealt with everything that happened there?” Murphy
frowned.
“She’s talking to a … a therapist about it.” Remington stared at the floor.
“And you?”
Steele shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Murphy used his razor-sharp brain and dug in. “I don’t buy that bullshit. And the fact that she’s seeing
a doctor is pissing you off.” Icy blue eyes slanted his way and then went back to contemplating the
carpet. “It is. I can see it. Why?”
“If she needs to see a counselor, then that’s what she needs.”
“Why, Steele? What’s got you in a tizzy?”
Steele flexed his hands and had to stifle the urge to kick something. He jammed his hands into his
pockets instead. But he didn’t control the clipped British accent he resorted to when he was the most
upset. “A tizzy? Maybe the fact that my wife is so bloody messed up over what I did to her that she
needs professional help? Maybe the fact that she no longer thinks the agency is hers? Maybe the fact
that she’s pregnant and thinks I’m going to make her give up her work? Pick one, old boy. Any of them
will do.”
Murphy closed his eyes and counted to twenty. Twice. Then he opened them. “Get your crap. You’re
going home.”
“Not yet.”
“Now.”
Steele was startled to realize that his brother was quite serious. In fact, Murphy was furious with him, a
rare occurrence indeed, given his legendary calm temperament. Remington tried to placate him.
“Murphy, really--it’s quite all right--Laura knows that sometimes I need to clear my head, and this is the
best way. We’ve worked it out between us. She knows I’m not going to leave her.”
“Tell that to your wife who hasn’t slept since Tuesday,” came the acid reply.
Defeated, Remington gathered his coat, leaving the case files scattered all over the desk. He hoped Ian
wouldn’t lace his coffee with cyanide when he came back on Monday and found the mess.
Not trusting Steele, Murphy insisted they leave the Auburn in the garage. He drove and let Remington
stew in uncomfortable silence. When they were nearing the penthouse, he made a quick phone call to
Kate. “Can you wake Laura?” he asked his wife. “Make some coffee … or tea. It’s going to be a long
night.”
Feeling as if he were a scolded child, Steele offered, “Murph, you don’t have to do this. This is between
Laura and me.”
Murphy shifted the Lexus into park at the apartments and turned to look at him. “I was there in Ireland
when you told me what happened while you were held captive, and I saw Laura’s reaction as she
overheard what you said. Laura seeing a therapist isn’t about what you were forced to do, but you need
to hear it from her.” A firm shove to the door slammed it shut, and he strode to the lobby. Following in
confused silence, Remington felt his head pounding with a rare headache.
Remington took his first look at Laura in over forty-eight hours. She sat on the sofa, cradling her tea in
her hands. Murphy was right. It didn’t matter what messages he’d left; she was wrecked--and wearing
one of his shirts to sleep in again. She looked awful--nearly gaunt, with her hair pulled back in a
ponytail. How much more can she take? he wondered. Just once her eyes met his before sliding away
and staring into her cup.
Kate, looking like the heartbreakingly normal version of her twin, sat next to her and rubbed her
shoulders, giving a sympathetic glance to him as he walked through the foyer door. Laura had spent the
afternoon and evening, when not playing with and caring for her nephews, confessing all that had
happened in Ireland, her time with Dr. Angelo and her worries and hopes about their child. Early on,
Kate realized that Laura had said nothing to Remington about any of this for fear of hurting him further.
It was hard seeing her sister this way but somehow encouraging. She didn’t have the desperation about
her she’d had after their father and Wilson had walked out. Rather, she was weary of the daily struggle
and wanted only to return to the calm waters she and Rei had enjoyed prior to their trip.
Murphy poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Steele before indicating the sofa. He shot a
quizzical glance to his wife. Kate nodded as they all took seats; he threw out the first pitch. “There isn’t
anything about Ireland that all four of us don’t know, so there isn’t anything to hide. Remington, tell
Laura the last thing you said to me at the agency--about why you’re upset she’s seeing a therapist.”
Somewhat resentful of his brother-in-law’s highhanded tactics, Rei stiffened as Laura’s eyes snapped up
from her cup to her husband. “Why?” she breathed.
If Laura hadn’t been waiting for him to talk, he might have stalked out of the room at Murphy’s orders.
But with her bloodshot eyes resting on him, he leaned forward in the chair and set down his cup. “I
don’t want to think about why you’re talking to her instead of me. I’m your husband, Laura, your
partner in every way. There hasn’t been anything that we haven’t dealt with together. Except this.” He
rested his face in his hands for a moment and looked her in the eyes again. “I know I’ve hurt you
terribly--that you need professional help to deal with it. And now I’ve trapped you with this pregnancy
so that you can’t leave me.” He shocked himself with the last admission and looked away. He hadn’t
realized it had been hiding in his psyche. From the astonished looks of the others in the room, they
hadn’t known either.
Laura recovered first. “I’m not seeing Dr. Angelo because of what you did.” He looked up in surprise.
“In fact, I told her very succinctly that if she expected me to be angry with you, she’s barking up the
wrong tree. From where I stand, you did everything right, including letting me get out by myself. I don’t
know anyone else, including Murphy, who could have seen all the possible options and realized that the
one you chose was the only logical choice--and then had the belief that I could do it despite the condition
I was in. And I did do it.”
She stifled a bout of nausea and sipped her tea. “I’m seeing Mariah because I’m having too many
nightmares about losing you. I can’t get into Fred’s limo without seeing explosions. When I get cold, I
start thinking I’m going to see four stone walls. When my leg hurts, I flashback to those goons attacking
me. She’s helping me work through all that. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with
being kidnapped and thinking you were dead, Rei.” She choked on a sob but mercilessly forced it back
down as she rubbed her heart. “And as far as being pregnant? If anyone is trapped here, it’s you
because I know you’re incapable of leaving a child without a father.”
Her words fell like a soft warm rain on the parched desert of his heart. The cracks filled in, and he felt
something break loose inside, allowing him to draw a full breath for the first time in weeks. “I’m not
trapped at all, Laura. I’m exactly where I want to be.” He looked her straight in the eyes, wishing hers
weren’t rimmed in red. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this?”
“Because I know you feel terribly guilty about all of it already, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” She
set down her cup. “I’m sorry. I can’t keep anything down right now. Even tea.” She bolted for the
bathroom, her stride uneven as the brace impeded her movement. Remington didn’t hesitate to follow.
Kate and Murphy retreated to the kitchen where she slid her arms around him. She knuckled away her
own tears while he rubbed his hands up and down her back. “They’re in so much pain. My God, the
things that Laura told me today. It isn't fair that they be tested so. Haven’t they had enough?”
“No, it isn’t fair at all. It’s a wonder they’re still together after all these years.” He rested his face
against her dark hair. “Steele’s had a hard life from what I’ve gathered. Harder than most. Laura’s the
only woman I know who can take him for what he is and love him for all that.”
“Not ‘in spite of’ but ‘because of.’ I hadn’t thought about it that way. So what keeps her around?” she
wondered.
“Got me.” He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Probably the fact that he annoys the hell out of her.” He
wasn’t quite ready to cut Steele much slack yet.
Kate chuckled, reading his irritation for the care and concern that it was. “You’re a good friend to both
of them.” She picked up the baby monitor on the kitchen counter, then ducked under his arm so they
could walk down the hall to their bedroom together. “Do you think they’ll be okay?” she asked.
“They’re talking. Really talking. That’s always been their biggest struggle. And we’ve got almost three
more days if necessary, but I’ll bet they can do the rest.” The protective parents peeked in on their
sleeping boys and then spent the remainder of the night holding each other a little closer than usual.
When Laura stopped heaving, Remington handed her a cool washcloth and a cup of water. “You don’t
have to drink it; just get the nasty taste out of your mouth.”
She did and sponged her face with the cloth. “I’ve spent a lot more time on this floor these past two
days than I really care to.” Unsteadily, she got to her feet with his help, and then he propped himself
against the doorframe while she brushed her teeth. Shoving the toothbrush into its holder, she said, “I’ve
done a lot more of that too.” Gingerly, Laura took two steps before Remington lifted her into his arms.
She didn’t miss the slight hesitation as he straightened up and carried her to their bed.
Her fingers flipped open three of his shirt buttons by the time he set her down. Ruthlessly, she yanked
the shirt from his pants and unfastened the rest. Dark marks dotted his torso, front and back, from the
hours he’d spent in the boxing ring. “Either you’re getting slower or you’re taking on too many
opponents. Which is it?”
Remington rotated one arm and slipped the shirt off the rest of the way so she could test his ribs with
sure fingers. “Ah, the latter, I think--Laura!” He swore under his breath.
“It’s not broken. You’ll live.”
“Such a tender nurse.” He grimaced as he unbuckled his belt.
“You get tender, loving care when you don’t voluntarily hand yourself over to being pummeled.”
“Laura--“ A soft warning sounded in his voice as he rose. They’d had this conversation several times
already in the past couple of years. Wearing only his briefs, he carried his clothes into their closet.
Moments later, he emerged in a pair of silk boxers and his dressing gown.
She held up her hands. “I know, I know. It’s how you deal with things. I get it. I don’t have to like it,
but I get it. Just as I understand the times you take off for a few days.”
Remington sat next her and began stripping off the brace so he could massage her leg. “Do you?”
Laura leaned on her elbow, closing her eyes in relief as he rubbed the soreness away. “Most of the time.”
“Sixty seconds of absolute honesty,” he insisted.
She opened her eyes and then looked away in frustration. “I know that you will always come back.
Each time it’s a little harder to understand why you go in the first place. But that’s not why I was upset
this time.” She stopped and yanked the band from her hair so that it fell out of the ponytail. “This time,
I wasn’t worried about your not wanting to come home; I was terrified something would happen that you
couldn’t.” A quick toss had the band landing on the nightstand beside her.
Laying a hand on his bruised cheek and lightly stroking it, she kept talking. “I should have told you why
I went to see Mariah. I didn’t want you to know … that I wasn’t dealing with all of it very well. I felt
myself becoming dependant on you the way I was with Kate in high school. I didn’t want you out of my
sight. I still don’t. I can’t sleep unless you’re holding me. These last two nights, I kept thinking you--“
Her breath caught and then she shook her head, unable to complete the sentence. She held up her hand
to ward him off when he would have taken her in his arms.
When she had herself under control again, she added quietly, “Mariah knows all this. She helped me
after--”
“Wilson left?” he finished for her. He smoothed away another knot in her calf.
She nodded. “That, and a bad case I had years ago. But this is worse. Much worse. She … wants you
to come with me next time.”
“Me?” He paused for a moment in surprise.
“Not to psychoanalyze you, although I’d love to be a fly on the wall if that ever happened,” she said with
a trace of humor in her voice, “but to teach you a few things that can help me snap out of a flashback or
a bad dream.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Just like that?”
“Laura, whatever you need, I’ll do.”
She laced her fingers in his and noted the bruising across his knuckles. “You’re not dealing well with all
of this either.”
“I’m living with it, Laura.”
Annoyed at his response, she threw his words back at him, “Sixty seconds of absolute honesty.”
He scrubbed his face with both hands before resuming the massage. “I’m afraid of hurting you further.
I want to park your pretty little bum in bed and keep you there until you’re healed. The fact that I
couldn’t keep you safe is still getting to me. And what you asked me about what I was going to let you
do in the agency has me bloody well floored. It’s your agency, Laura. It always has been.”
“I thought--“ she faltered, latching on to his last statement.
“Thought what?”
“That you’d be so protective of me that you’d want to set all kinds of limits on what I do.”
“Of course, that’s what I want to do, love. But give me a small amount of credit for knowing you as I
do. All setting limits would do is set a bar for you to wiggle around. I can’t help stepping in front of you
if someone is threatening you, but I’ve never stopped you from going through the door.”
Laura tried to process the significance of that statement, but the last of her energy flagged as she tried to
stifle a yawn behind her hand. Remington glanced at the clock and saw that it was after two in the
morning. With hardly any sleep under his belt either, he eyed the wrinkled shirt of his that she was
wearing, decided it looked sexy as hell and carefully scooted her over with nary a protest.
A tug to the chain of the lamp left them in darkness, and hardly a minute later, both of them were lost to
exhaustion. Confronted by the barrier of shared love, the nightmares stayed away.
Chapter Six--Acceptance
Interpol agent James Buchanan walked through the doors of the SIS building in Vauxhall Cross, also
known as the headquarters of MI6 in London. The director met him at security and cleared him. As
they walked down a short passageway, the director spoke, “We’re glad to have you again, Mr.
Buchanan. As you requested, I’ve arranged for one of our American compatriots to assist the
investigation of the Dublin Six.”
"I appreciate that. We’ve tracked a number of assets to the United States. We’re spread so thin on this
one that we need all the help we can get. We’re too damned close to shutting all of them down to let
anyone wiggle away because of a lack of manpower.”
“I’d heard one was dead and two were behind bars.”
“And I’ve got one more up against the wall. We get him and the other two will fall like dominoes.”
“Excellent. Cunningham is here already, and he’s briefed the American on our operations here, but
he’ll need more details of this incident with O’Callaghan and what you’ve learned from that. I didn’t
have clearance from you to release that information.”
“What’s his name?”
“Tony Roselli.”
The next morning Remington accompanied Laura to the obstetrician. They came away with their heads
stuffed with knowledge, reassurance that the pregnancy was quite for real, a giant bottle of prenatal
vitamins and a prescription for safe pain medication. The expectant father repeatedly raked his hand
through his hair while he took it all in. His wife absorbed the new information with a calm acceptance he
certainly wasn’t feeling.
He thought he’d done a good job covering up his vibrating nerves that day at the office, but at two in the
afternoon, Laura invented a new client they needed to see (a Mr. Thornhill), and they spent the
afternoon watching North by Northwest at the cinema (Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint, MGM, 1959). He
hadn’t been able to concentrate on the movie at all. Instead, he fretted about the conversation they’d had
last evening.
Laura took note of the small gestures indicating Remington’s edginess despite his calm exterior.
Assuming that this was all about his getting used to the idea of being a father, she did her best to soothe
him while giving him time to adjust. She deliberately complained enough about her knee that he insisted
they fill her prescription and go home so she could soak it in the Jacuzzi. Since the movie hadn’t calmed
him, tactic number two involved seducing him in the bubbling waters. She thought she’d succeeded as
they snuggled on the bed for a quick nap afterward.
An hour later, Laura had just sat up when their phone rang, startling Remington from his sleep.
Automatically, he picked up the receiver. “Steele here.”
“Are you ever going to learn to say ‘hello,’ like normal people?” Kathleen’s teasing tones woke him.
“Now why would I want to be just like everyone else, Kate?” He smiled and handed the phone to Laura
without further ado.
She rolled to her side so that the cord draped across her husband while she talked. “Hi, Katy.”
“Oh. Hi, Laura. I hate it when he does that.”
“That’s why he does it,” Laura chuckled while Remington batted the line to keep it from landing on his
throat, gave up and crawled out from underneath it. He sat on the edge of the bed.
“You sound better. A lot better, sis.” Kate sounded relieved.
“I feel better. When are you guys coming down? Murphy was making noises.”
“Actually, we’re both free this weekend. Are you up to it?”
Laura turned to Remington. “This weekend?” she repeated. He shrugged and nodded. “Sure. When?”
“Can we come Thursday and leave on Sunday?”
“I’ve still got therapy on Friday, but otherwise I think one or both of us can clear those days. Do you
want to stay with us, with Mom or with Frances?”
“Your place if you can handle the twin terrors.”
“We’ll manage the twins.” Laura gave Remington a sly look as she and Kate worked out the logistics of
housing the small fry. The last time the young boys had stayed at the Steeles' penthouse, they hadn’t
been very mobile and slept handily in the portable crib borrowed from Frances. This time would require
a little more creativity.
While Laura talked to her sister, Remington closed his eyes in an attempt to shut out the dark thoughts.
He wanted to run. The temptation to simply board the next plane to whatever destination it might take
him in order to get away from this pain was enormous. But he couldn’t walk away from Laura any more
than he could cut out his own heart--for they were one and the same. He didn’t feel trapped; he simply
didn’t know how to cope with the magnitude of guilt he was experiencing on top of the realization that he
was going to be a father and the way Laura had been acting lately.
Nothing in his years as a con artist had taught him how to be in a long-term relationship. Learning had
begun the day he’d decided to step into “Remington Steele’s” shoes, and it hadn’t stopped yet. Anytime
a situation became too difficult prior to that, even with Daniel, Remington would simply leave--finding a
new game to play until matters settled down again of their own accord.
Since meeting Laura, Remington stifled those urges to run by disappearing for a few days here and there
as he learned to deal honestly with his own emotions. In the early days, he’d generally left thinking that
“this was it,” and that he was going to move on. He found, to his irritation, that he couldn’t leave
permanently. Laura, without even knowing that she did, would draw him back in.
Their longest separation--when he’d fled to London looking for his real name--had left both of them
miserable. When they’d returned, their relationship had changed, and he found himself spending nearly
every weekend with Laura--drastically limiting the opportunities for those disappearances without
frightening her into thinking he was going to leave her.
But, once they’d married, he’d only made it six months before giving in and holing up in Vegas for a few
days. Again though, Laura reeled him in--this time by coming after him and helping him deal with the
issues he’d been unable to clarify even for himself. She’d left him there and waited for him to come
home.
Since that day, he’d left only one other time--and he’d told her where and why he was going. Laura had
said she understood when he’d tried to explain. And perhaps she did, but he knew it still played on her
deepest fears of abandonment, and hurting her was the last he wanted to do. Just lately, he’d been
congratulating himself on finding other ways to cope that didn’t involve packing an overnight bag.
But when his mind was roaring at him as it was now, he needed to get out.
After telling her sister goodbye, Laura handed Remington the telephone, which he dropped onto the
cradle. He closed his arms around her, holding her close.
“Still nervous?” she asked. When the silence stretched out, she looked up. His eyes were cool and flat--
a sure indicator that he was concealing something. “Rei?”
He abruptly stood. “I need time, Laura.” Swiftly, he changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants.
Confused by his reaction, her voice was sharper than she intended. “Where are you going?”
He paused at the bedroom door. “Ah, the gym.” She heard him snatch his car keys off the counter and
the snick as he locked the front door behind him.
Laura sat on the bed and wondered what had just happened.
He called later, but he didn’t come home that night. Or the next.
When Murphy and Kate arrived in the limo on Thursday afternoon with cranky toddlers that were
obviously overdue for their nap, Laura did her best to pretend that all was well in the Steele household.
Each of the parents took a child and soothed him until he fell asleep. Aiden promptly sprawled out in the
playpen borrowed from Frances while Ian curled up so that his little bottom poked into the air.
Laura repaired her makeup one more time. She’d been nauseated for much of the last two days and
didn’t want to look it. As she made a last pass in the flat to make certain all looked normal, the sick
feeling came roaring back. She brushed her teeth afterward and, still feeling ill, sat back down on the
bathroom floor.
Kate found her there, resting her head on her knees. She instantly dropped down beside her sister and
began stroking her hair. “Laura? Oh sweetie, what’s wrong? You should have told us you weren’t
feeling well. We could have rescheduled.”
At that, Laura gave her a wan smile. “I’m not sick, Kate.”
“Could have fooled me.” Laura just looked at her for a long moment before dawning understanding
brightened Kate’s face. “Oh. Hello. You’re pregnant. Oh!” Kate hugged Laura and yelled for her
husband. “Murphy … Murphy!”
He popped his head into the bathroom and frowned when he saw the girls on the floor. “Oh, Laura, are
you okay?” But the twins each held out a hand, and he helped them to their feet.
“She’s pregnant.” Kate all but caroled the news, delighted for her twin.
Murphy eyeballed Laura and her tremulous smile before enfolding her in an enormous hug. “Congrats,
old friend. Where’s Steele so I can give him crap about it?” he teased.
But his former partner straightened up and brushed a stray tear away. “I don’t know.” And she walked
out the bathroom door.
Murphy caught her arm. “What do you mean ‘I don’t know’?”
“I mean that after I got off the phone with Kate on Tuesday evening, he said he had to go to the gym. I
haven’t seen him since. He leaves me messages saying that he’ll be back soon.” She squared her
shoulders and told herself not to cry. Damn hormones for sapping my control.
The string of curses that spewed from Murphy was long, creative and included an incomplete list of the
things he was going to do to Steele when he turned up. He spent the next ten minutes grilling Laura
about the facts of the last two days. He ended it with a short four-letter word and asked Laura for her
keys.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m a detective. I’m going to find him.” He held up a hand to stifle her protest. “Laura, I’ve given him
a lot of slack over the years for things he’s done--because he makes you happy. This time … this time
isn’t going to cut it.” He gave her a last hug and then framed Kate’s face with his hands before landing a
hard kiss on her lips. “Take care of Laura. I’ll keep in touch and let you know where I am.”
Murphy drove the Lexus, starting with the gym he knew his brother frequented because somehow, in his
gut, he really didn’t think the man would go very far. The young man at the front desk nodded when
asked if he’d seen Steele. “Sure thing. He’s been in a bunch the last couple of days. Been taking on
nearly anyone who’ll get in the ring.”
“Who’s winning?”
“He is, mostly. But one or two have gone the distance with him and won a bout.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“This morning.”
With a nod to the desk clerk, Murphy settled in to do a little surveillance work. He figured Steele would
make Laura’s car with a glance, so he parked it in a nearby garage and made himself comfortable in a
run-down diner across the street to watch the front door. Four cups of coffee and a deliciously greasy
cheeseburger later, there was still no sign of the missing man when the gym closed for the night.
He called the penthouse from the car phone and Kate answered. “Hi, honey.”
“Found anyone interesting today?” she quipped.
“Not yet, but I do know for certain that he’s somewhere nearby. How’s Laura holding out?”
“At the moment, she’s sleeping. She’s been alternating between making excuses for him and wanting to
murder him the moment he walks through the door.”
“The latter sounds reasonable to me. I’ve got a few other places I want to try.” He disconnected the
phone after telling her he loved her and drove to any place he could remember Laura mentioning: their
old apartments, three favored restaurants, the pool hall that he and Steele patronized and a couple of
different parks. No one had seen him, and now it was after midnight.
It was at the second park that Murphy had a flash of insight. He pointed the car toward the agency.
Sure enough, the Auburn was parked in the garage in its usual spot. He made a quick call to Kate and
then took the elevator to the twelfth floor. Murphy was only one of three people outside the agency who
knew how to disarm the security system. With Laura’s key and his knowledge, he slipped inside the
darkened office without a sound. Light shone from under Steele’s office door.
He found Remington sitting at his desk, dressed neatly in a white button-down shirt and dark slacks.
Murphy smiled, knowing he’d guessed correctly that Steele would return to the office for a shower and
change of clothes. What he wasn’t expecting was to find him buried in paperwork.
“Steele.” The other man looked up with a neutral expression and then went back to reading the file he
was holding. Murphy dropped into the chair across from the desk and put his feet up. “Are you not
speaking to people in general, family in particular or just your wife?”
Shadows crossed Remington’s face as he put the file down.
He looked like hell. Smudges under his eyes and a healthy bruise on his cheekbone stood in sharp
contrast to the tailored clothes he wore. Murphy continued to needle him. “Congratulations, by the
way. Your wife has spent the last two days throwing up in the bathroom because she’s pregnant with
your child. She’s exhausted because she can’t sleep wondering where you are and why you left. And
typical of Laura, she’s covering for you at the office, saying you’ve been pulled out on a case. Mildred
didn’t buy it and let her know exactly why. Now, if you can’t make explanations to her yet, you’re going
to make them to me.”
Remington picked up the file again and pretended to read it. “I’m looking for answers.”
“Damn it, Steele!” Murphy stood up and slapped his hands down on the desk. “Why is it that every
time you need a fucking answer, you have to pull a disappearing act to find it? That crap was only
marginally acceptable before you married; now it shouldn’t even be an option.” He loomed over the
desk, and Remington pushed his chair back to put some distance between them.
“Laura understands. I left a message and told her I’d be back. Actually, I’ve left several.”
The former football player crossed his arms and shot him a hard look. “No, Laura doesn’t understand.
And every time you do it, she gets a little more frightened that one day you’ll have had enough of this life
she created for you.”
“Had enough? Bloody hell, Murphy, I’m doing everything I can to preserve it.” Remington’s distress
exploded from him. “Do you know what she asked me?” Not waiting for an answer, he continued, “She
asked me what I was going to ‘let’ her do in the agency. Her agency. I don’t care what the paperwork
says. This is her agency and it always has been. Does that sound like Laura Holt? This agency is her
dream. Mine is to have a family. Does she have to give up hers so I can have mine?” He spat out the
words in staccato bullets as he threw the file on the stack with the others and stalked around the desk.
Pacing like a panther at the edge of a river, looking for a way across without getting his feet wet, Steele
dragged his hands through his hair repeatedly in his misery. “I’ve been digging through case files--
thinking up ways for her to stay as involved in the agency as she wants to be without putting her in
harm’s way. I’ve been reading through these damned pregnancy books to determine exactly what she
should and shouldn’t do, but none of them has any information on dealing with a headstrong wife that
runs a detective agency.”
“I put in a safe room between our offices two years ago. Do you want to see the plans for turning it into
the nursery I’d always intended it to be so that she wouldn’t have to be torn between being a mother and
a private investigator? She’s damned good at what she does, and I can’t imagine having her give it all up
for me.”
Silence stretched out again before Murphy crossed his arms and leaned against the desk. “Why haven’t
you talked to her about any of this?”
With no little sadness, he answered, “Because she’ll tell me what I want to hear, not what she wants.”
Murphy cocked his head and discovered a small modicum of sympathy for his brother-in-law. “That’s
not a concept I’d normally associate with Laura.”
“Since Ireland, that’s all she’s done,” he snapped again.
“That was nearly a month ago. Have you two … dealt with everything that happened there?” Murphy
frowned.
“She’s talking to a … a therapist about it.” Remington stared at the floor.
“And you?”
Steele shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Murphy used his razor-sharp brain and dug in. “I don’t buy that bullshit. And the fact that she’s seeing
a doctor is pissing you off.” Icy blue eyes slanted his way and then went back to contemplating the
carpet. “It is. I can see it. Why?”
“If she needs to see a counselor, then that’s what she needs.”
“Why, Steele? What’s got you in a tizzy?”
Steele flexed his hands and had to stifle the urge to kick something. He jammed his hands into his
pockets instead. But he didn’t control the clipped British accent he resorted to when he was the most
upset. “A tizzy? Maybe the fact that my wife is so bloody messed up over what I did to her that she
needs professional help? Maybe the fact that she no longer thinks the agency is hers? Maybe the fact
that she’s pregnant and thinks I’m going to make her give up her work? Pick one, old boy. Any of them
will do.”
Murphy closed his eyes and counted to twenty. Twice. Then he opened them. “Get your crap. You’re
going home.”
“Not yet.”
“Now.”
Steele was startled to realize that his brother was quite serious. In fact, Murphy was furious with him, a
rare occurrence indeed, given his legendary calm temperament. Remington tried to placate him.
“Murphy, really--it’s quite all right--Laura knows that sometimes I need to clear my head, and this is the
best way. We’ve worked it out between us. She knows I’m not going to leave her.”
“Tell that to your wife who hasn’t slept since Tuesday,” came the acid reply.
Defeated, Remington gathered his coat, leaving the case files scattered all over the desk. He hoped Ian
wouldn’t lace his coffee with cyanide when he came back on Monday and found the mess.
Not trusting Steele, Murphy insisted they leave the Auburn in the garage. He drove and let Remington
stew in uncomfortable silence. When they were nearing the penthouse, he made a quick phone call to
Kate. “Can you wake Laura?” he asked his wife. “Make some coffee … or tea. It’s going to be a long
night.”
Feeling as if he were a scolded child, Steele offered, “Murph, you don’t have to do this. This is between
Laura and me.”
Murphy shifted the Lexus into park at the apartments and turned to look at him. “I was there in Ireland
when you told me what happened while you were held captive, and I saw Laura’s reaction as she
overheard what you said. Laura seeing a therapist isn’t about what you were forced to do, but you need
to hear it from her.” A firm shove to the door slammed it shut, and he strode to the lobby. Following in
confused silence, Remington felt his head pounding with a rare headache.
Remington took his first look at Laura in over forty-eight hours. She sat on the sofa, cradling her tea in
her hands. Murphy was right. It didn’t matter what messages he’d left; she was wrecked--and wearing
one of his shirts to sleep in again. She looked awful--nearly gaunt, with her hair pulled back in a
ponytail. How much more can she take? he wondered. Just once her eyes met his before sliding away
and staring into her cup.
Kate, looking like the heartbreakingly normal version of her twin, sat next to her and rubbed her
shoulders, giving a sympathetic glance to him as he walked through the foyer door. Laura had spent the
afternoon and evening, when not playing with and caring for her nephews, confessing all that had
happened in Ireland, her time with Dr. Angelo and her worries and hopes about their child. Early on,
Kate realized that Laura had said nothing to Remington about any of this for fear of hurting him further.
It was hard seeing her sister this way but somehow encouraging. She didn’t have the desperation about
her she’d had after their father and Wilson had walked out. Rather, she was weary of the daily struggle
and wanted only to return to the calm waters she and Rei had enjoyed prior to their trip.
Murphy poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Steele before indicating the sofa. He shot a
quizzical glance to his wife. Kate nodded as they all took seats; he threw out the first pitch. “There isn’t
anything about Ireland that all four of us don’t know, so there isn’t anything to hide. Remington, tell
Laura the last thing you said to me at the agency--about why you’re upset she’s seeing a therapist.”
Somewhat resentful of his brother-in-law’s highhanded tactics, Rei stiffened as Laura’s eyes snapped up
from her cup to her husband. “Why?” she breathed.
If Laura hadn’t been waiting for him to talk, he might have stalked out of the room at Murphy’s orders.
But with her bloodshot eyes resting on him, he leaned forward in the chair and set down his cup. “I
don’t want to think about why you’re talking to her instead of me. I’m your husband, Laura, your
partner in every way. There hasn’t been anything that we haven’t dealt with together. Except this.” He
rested his face in his hands for a moment and looked her in the eyes again. “I know I’ve hurt you
terribly--that you need professional help to deal with it. And now I’ve trapped you with this pregnancy
so that you can’t leave me.” He shocked himself with the last admission and looked away. He hadn’t
realized it had been hiding in his psyche. From the astonished looks of the others in the room, they
hadn’t known either.
Laura recovered first. “I’m not seeing Dr. Angelo because of what you did.” He looked up in surprise.
“In fact, I told her very succinctly that if she expected me to be angry with you, she’s barking up the
wrong tree. From where I stand, you did everything right, including letting me get out by myself. I don’t
know anyone else, including Murphy, who could have seen all the possible options and realized that the
one you chose was the only logical choice--and then had the belief that I could do it despite the condition
I was in. And I did do it.”
She stifled a bout of nausea and sipped her tea. “I’m seeing Mariah because I’m having too many
nightmares about losing you. I can’t get into Fred’s limo without seeing explosions. When I get cold, I
start thinking I’m going to see four stone walls. When my leg hurts, I flashback to those goons attacking
me. She’s helping me work through all that. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with
being kidnapped and thinking you were dead, Rei.” She choked on a sob but mercilessly forced it back
down as she rubbed her heart. “And as far as being pregnant? If anyone is trapped here, it’s you
because I know you’re incapable of leaving a child without a father.”
Her words fell like a soft warm rain on the parched desert of his heart. The cracks filled in, and he felt
something break loose inside, allowing him to draw a full breath for the first time in weeks. “I’m not
trapped at all, Laura. I’m exactly where I want to be.” He looked her straight in the eyes, wishing hers
weren’t rimmed in red. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this?”
“Because I know you feel terribly guilty about all of it already, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” She
set down her cup. “I’m sorry. I can’t keep anything down right now. Even tea.” She bolted for the
bathroom, her stride uneven as the brace impeded her movement. Remington didn’t hesitate to follow.
Kate and Murphy retreated to the kitchen where she slid her arms around him. She knuckled away her
own tears while he rubbed his hands up and down her back. “They’re in so much pain. My God, the
things that Laura told me today. It isn't fair that they be tested so. Haven’t they had enough?”
“No, it isn’t fair at all. It’s a wonder they’re still together after all these years.” He rested his face
against her dark hair. “Steele’s had a hard life from what I’ve gathered. Harder than most. Laura’s the
only woman I know who can take him for what he is and love him for all that.”
“Not ‘in spite of’ but ‘because of.’ I hadn’t thought about it that way. So what keeps her around?” she
wondered.
“Got me.” He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Probably the fact that he annoys the hell out of her.” He
wasn’t quite ready to cut Steele much slack yet.
Kate chuckled, reading his irritation for the care and concern that it was. “You’re a good friend to both
of them.” She picked up the baby monitor on the kitchen counter, then ducked under his arm so they
could walk down the hall to their bedroom together. “Do you think they’ll be okay?” she asked.
“They’re talking. Really talking. That’s always been their biggest struggle. And we’ve got almost three
more days if necessary, but I’ll bet they can do the rest.” The protective parents peeked in on their
sleeping boys and then spent the remainder of the night holding each other a little closer than usual.
When Laura stopped heaving, Remington handed her a cool washcloth and a cup of water. “You don’t
have to drink it; just get the nasty taste out of your mouth.”
She did and sponged her face with the cloth. “I’ve spent a lot more time on this floor these past two
days than I really care to.” Unsteadily, she got to her feet with his help, and then he propped himself
against the doorframe while she brushed her teeth. Shoving the toothbrush into its holder, she said, “I’ve
done a lot more of that too.” Gingerly, Laura took two steps before Remington lifted her into his arms.
She didn’t miss the slight hesitation as he straightened up and carried her to their bed.
Her fingers flipped open three of his shirt buttons by the time he set her down. Ruthlessly, she yanked
the shirt from his pants and unfastened the rest. Dark marks dotted his torso, front and back, from the
hours he’d spent in the boxing ring. “Either you’re getting slower or you’re taking on too many
opponents. Which is it?”
Remington rotated one arm and slipped the shirt off the rest of the way so she could test his ribs with
sure fingers. “Ah, the latter, I think--Laura!” He swore under his breath.
“It’s not broken. You’ll live.”
“Such a tender nurse.” He grimaced as he unbuckled his belt.
“You get tender, loving care when you don’t voluntarily hand yourself over to being pummeled.”
“Laura--“ A soft warning sounded in his voice as he rose. They’d had this conversation several times
already in the past couple of years. Wearing only his briefs, he carried his clothes into their closet.
Moments later, he emerged in a pair of silk boxers and his dressing gown.
She held up her hands. “I know, I know. It’s how you deal with things. I get it. I don’t have to like it,
but I get it. Just as I understand the times you take off for a few days.”
Remington sat next her and began stripping off the brace so he could massage her leg. “Do you?”
Laura leaned on her elbow, closing her eyes in relief as he rubbed the soreness away. “Most of the time.”
“Sixty seconds of absolute honesty,” he insisted.
She opened her eyes and then looked away in frustration. “I know that you will always come back.
Each time it’s a little harder to understand why you go in the first place. But that’s not why I was upset
this time.” She stopped and yanked the band from her hair so that it fell out of the ponytail. “This time,
I wasn’t worried about your not wanting to come home; I was terrified something would happen that you
couldn’t.” A quick toss had the band landing on the nightstand beside her.
Laying a hand on his bruised cheek and lightly stroking it, she kept talking. “I should have told you why
I went to see Mariah. I didn’t want you to know … that I wasn’t dealing with all of it very well. I felt
myself becoming dependant on you the way I was with Kate in high school. I didn’t want you out of my
sight. I still don’t. I can’t sleep unless you’re holding me. These last two nights, I kept thinking you--“
Her breath caught and then she shook her head, unable to complete the sentence. She held up her hand
to ward him off when he would have taken her in his arms.
When she had herself under control again, she added quietly, “Mariah knows all this. She helped me
after--”
“Wilson left?” he finished for her. He smoothed away another knot in her calf.
She nodded. “That, and a bad case I had years ago. But this is worse. Much worse. She … wants you
to come with me next time.”
“Me?” He paused for a moment in surprise.
“Not to psychoanalyze you, although I’d love to be a fly on the wall if that ever happened,” she said with
a trace of humor in her voice, “but to teach you a few things that can help me snap out of a flashback or
a bad dream.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Just like that?”
“Laura, whatever you need, I’ll do.”
She laced her fingers in his and noted the bruising across his knuckles. “You’re not dealing well with all
of this either.”
“I’m living with it, Laura.”
Annoyed at his response, she threw his words back at him, “Sixty seconds of absolute honesty.”
He scrubbed his face with both hands before resuming the massage. “I’m afraid of hurting you further.
I want to park your pretty little bum in bed and keep you there until you’re healed. The fact that I
couldn’t keep you safe is still getting to me. And what you asked me about what I was going to let you
do in the agency has me bloody well floored. It’s your agency, Laura. It always has been.”
“I thought--“ she faltered, latching on to his last statement.
“Thought what?”
“That you’d be so protective of me that you’d want to set all kinds of limits on what I do.”
“Of course, that’s what I want to do, love. But give me a small amount of credit for knowing you as I
do. All setting limits would do is set a bar for you to wiggle around. I can’t help stepping in front of you
if someone is threatening you, but I’ve never stopped you from going through the door.”
Laura tried to process the significance of that statement, but the last of her energy flagged as she tried to
stifle a yawn behind her hand. Remington glanced at the clock and saw that it was after two in the
morning. With hardly any sleep under his belt either, he eyed the wrinkled shirt of his that she was
wearing, decided it looked sexy as hell and carefully scooted her over with nary a protest.
A tug to the chain of the lamp left them in darkness, and hardly a minute later, both of them were lost to
exhaustion. Confronted by the barrier of shared love, the nightmares stayed away.
Chapter Six--Acceptance