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 6 Acceptance
A tiny finger reached for the long black lock of hair dipping over a smooth forehead. A firm jerk had
blue eyes popping open. The culprit’s wide grin proved impossible to resist as was the identical one
immediately to his right. Remington untangled the fingers as Murphy attempted to retrieve his errant
children without waking him or Laura.
Of course, the toddlers let out maniacal shrieks as their father snatched one and missed the other as he
scampered out of the way. Rei saw that Laura somehow either slept through the ruckus or was
pretending not to hear it. He slipped out of bed to creep upon the other twin. A fast snatch had him in
his hands amid giggles and more shrieks. He winced as the lad--Ian, he decided, from the sly squint in
his brown eyes--found his chest hair and gave it a good, healthy yank. He gave the child a dark scowl
that resulted in more giggles as he retrieved his dressing gown and slipped out the door with it and the
little boy.
He stood the small boy on the sofa long enough to slip the robe over his shoulders and tie it before
settling Ian on his hip and heading for the kitchen. Either Laura or Kate had apparently set out a number
of kid-friendly foods on the counter so that Murphy wouldn’t have to go hunting for them. The boys’
father dumped Cheerios into green plastic bowls that certainly hadn’t come from Remington’s kitchen
and placed them in front of the wiggly creatures at the table. Sippy cups of milk were handed over, and
Murphy leaned against the counter in weariness.
“Coffee, I beg of you,” he croaked.
“Coming up.” As Remington brought out coffee beans to grind, he asked, “Will the boys eat eggs? I’ll
make breakfast.”
“Aiden will eat anything, including the carpet. Ian won’t touch anything but Cheerios, peanut butter and
apples. It’s a wonder he manages to grow as fast as his brother.” Murphy peeled a banana and broke it
into small pieces for the boys. Aiden stuffed two into his mouth at once while Ian smashed a chunk flat
with his chubby hand.
While the coffee dripped and the pan heated, Remington made his own tea and looked in on Laura. She’
d rolled over to where he’d been lying and snuggled with his pillow. He stroked her hair once and kissed
her temple, causing her to breathe a contented sigh in her sleep. Arching a brow at the clock when he
realized it wasn’t quite eight in the morning, he returned to the kitchen where Murphy was wiping down
faces and hands. The cheerful little boys promptly began chasing cars across the wood floors and
making sputtering noises in the process.
Remington stepped over Aiden and tossed vegetables into the pan to sauté in the heated oil. A few
minutes later, when Murphy sat down to his omelette, the boy immediately scrambled into his dad’s lap
and opened his mouth. Seeing the rate at which the child was consuming his father’s breakfast,
Remington cracked another egg into the bowl and set another, larger omelette to fry. Ian ignored them all
in favor of exploring the kitchen cabinets.
By the time Kate showered and wandered out of the bedroom ninety minutes later, awakened by the
shrieks and giggles of her sons, the kitchen was a disaster area. Pots and pans littered the floors, and
breakfast was scattered across the kitchen counters and dining room table. Cheerios dotted every surface
imaginable along with the inevitable droplets of milk. Murphy and Remington had each claimed a couch
where the twins took turns climbing over them, playing horsey and launching random attacks with stuffed
dinosaurs and miniature cars.
Ear-piercing shrieks of “Mama” erupted, and four sturdy legs stamped across the floor to swarm her. Ian
immediately began whining for a snack, and Aiden smacked his brother with a toy car. Automatically,
Kate separated the boys--putting each of them in a two-minute time-out in opposite corners--before
attacking the disaster area with a sponge.
Remington pushed himself off the sofa, wandering over to stare mournfully at his kitchen. Murphy
winced as he took a good look at the damage. “Sorry. We warned you they were miniature tornados.”
Cocking his head at his brother-in-law, he shrugged. “It’s nothing that can’t be cleaned.” He poured a
cup of coffee for Kate and traded it for the sponge. “I’ll do this.” In short order, he restored the area to
its normal pristine condition, handing the boys their mid-morning snack of graham crackers and grapes at
the dining table after their mom sprang them from time-out.
Murphy kissed Kate on the cheek and disappeared to shower. She leaned on the island where she could
keep an eye on her kids and sipped her coffee. “Did you and Laura work things out last night?”
Remington sighed inside but only gave her a pensive look as he washed out the sink. He’d wondered
how long it would take before she brought it up. He and Murphy had avoided the conversation in favor
of entertaining the twins, but Kate had a determined expression on her face he’d seen too many times on
his own wife to not know what it meant. “We talked.”
“Just an observation and then I’ll shut up and keep my nose out of your business.” He arched a brow at
her and waited, listening idly to the babble of the boys to his back. “If you two would quit trying to
protect each other, you’d both be happier. Neither of you has delicate sensibilities that need to be
shielded.” She tilted her cup up to drain it.
He dried his hands on a dish towel before folding it into a neat square and hanging it over the oven
handle. “Is that it?”
“That’s it. Oh, and try dry toast with Laura’s tea. When I was pregnant, it was the only thing that got
me through the first few weeks.” She gave him her version of the quirky half-smile Laura liked to shoot
at him.
Inexplicably, her calm understanding caused him to heave a shuddering sigh. He rounded the island and
caught her in a sisterly squeeze as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Then he nearly tripped as the boys double-teamed him, and each grabbed onto a leg from behind.
Recovering his sensibilities, he flashed Kate the wide grin that charmed Laura from the first day they'd
met in Los Angeles. “So tell me, exactly when did you discover you were having twins?” He dropped
down so the boys could climb up, and he stood with one on each hip. They squirmed mightily amid
giggles and squeals while he held firm.
Kate started to answer, but Laura appeared in the bedroom doorway, capturing his attention entirely.
Color in her face had replaced the awful pallor of the night before. Her hair was damp from her shower,
and she wore a pair of white capris and a sleeveless black sweater. She laughed at Remington’s attempt
to keep a solid grip on Aiden and Ian. He gave up when they spied their aunt and flopped limply over his
arms, becoming instant deadweights that nearly bowled him over. Ian wiggled away first and headed for
Laura. Aiden waited for his uncle to put him on the ground before chasing down his brother. Laura
caught both of them in an enormous hug that turned into a brief tickling match.
Remington smiled at the sight of his wife playing with the boys and took advantage of their distraction to
make her tea and toast. Kate showed mercy to her sister after a few moments and brought out a small
bag of toys. The twins lost interest in their aunt as they scattered the brightly-colored balls and blocks
across the living room floor.
Laura wrinkled her nose at the dry toast that her husband presented to her. “I’m starving and you’re
giving me bread?”
“Keep it down, love, while I shower, and I’ll make you a real breakfast. Deal?” He peered into her clear
maple eyes, relief unknotting the tension in his shoulders as he saw that the stress lines had eased from
her face. Something else was in her expression. At the moment he was at a loss to define it, only noting
the slight curve to her lips and the fact that she had walked across the room without a limp for the first
time.
“Deal.” She flashed a beautiful, sultry smile that lit sparks throughout him. Remington forgot all about
Kate and the twins as he lowered his head to hers. When he hesitated, his mouth hovering a breath
above her lips, she pressed up on her toes and reeled him in. In her ineffable combination of citrus and
sunshine, he lost himself as her warmth washed through him, chasing away the darkness with ease.
This was what he’d been missing since that Sunday in Ireland. It was a simple fact that from the first
day they'd met, her eyes warmed and her touch healed him. These past four weeks, he’d felt his soul
growing colder and more frightened each day as he’d been unable to give her whatever she needed that
would bring back the light. Locked to her, he savored--taking what he needed and giving it back again.
Kate fanned herself with raised brows. “Good Heavens! You have a bedroom. Use it.”
Laura blushed scarlet as Remington broke their kiss and held her to him. She looked up through her
lashes and saw the cocky Irishman with his scruffy beard and mussed hair that she’d missed so.
He winked at Kate before diving his hands through his wife’s hair and landing a kiss on her lips one last
time. “Toast, love. Eat your toast,” he ordered before disappearing into the bedroom.
Whistling in appreciation, Kate leaned on the island and fanned herself comically. “Damn, Lunatic,
Murphy’s not going to know what hit him later. And I’m sure not going to tell him!”
Two slices of very dry toast later, along with the tea to wash it down, the bare edges of Laura’s hunger
had been assuaged, and she was grateful that the nausea was in abeyance for the moment. While she
ate, Kate filled her in on the plans for the evening.
“We’re going to see Frances and Donald after the boys take a nap, and we’re staying for dinner,
remember? We’ll be back around eight to put the boys to bed. I promise that we’ll keep our lips sealed
so you can tell everyone the good news tomorrow when Mom is here.”
“Act surprised or we’ll both be in the doghouse.” Laura snorted as she watched the toddlers aim in their
direction.
“Of course. And Laura,” Kate picked up Aiden as he pulled on her leg for attention, “you and
Remington need to talk. Don’t wait.”
Her sister nodded and lifted Ian when he demanded equal treatment. Laura cradled her nephew for the
brief moment he allowed before he slipped out of her arms and ran back to his toys. She wandered after
him, taking the small objects he offered and trading them out as he brought her new ones.
An hour or so after the four adults finished lunch, the boys woke from their naps and their parents
bundled them into Laura’s car for the short trip to Tarzana. Laura and Remington returned to find their
flat oddly quiet without the twins’ giggles, babbles and shrieks. Awkward silence dominated for a
moment as each of them tried to think of a way to reopen the conversation from the night before.
“Do you want--“ he started.
“Can we--“ she said at the same time.
“You first,” Remington offered with an elegant gesture.
Thinking of Dr. Angelo’s homework, Laura replied, “Can we go somewhere else to talk? Not here
again. I don’t want to bring it home.”
With a shrug, Rei slipped Laura’s jacket over her shoulders and carried his own. Then he stopped and
snorted. “Murphy took the Lexus and the Auburn’s at the office. He wouldn’t let me drive last night.
Can you walk to the pub? We can sit outside so the smoke won’t--“ his voice trailed off, and he looked
away in chagrin.
She reached out, gathering his hand in hers. “--bother the baby? I think that’s a great idea. And yes, I
can walk to the pub as long as I’m wearing that infernal brace.”
“Then I’ll call and have Fred pick us up there at two-thirty for your physical therapy.”
Hand-in-hand, the couple walked the one block to the neighborhood bar situated just north of their
apartment on Rossmore. There they found a table facing the busy street where the ambient noise and
position on the edge of the patio gave them a relative amount of privacy. Over the past two years, the
Steeles had come here any number of times to dance, enjoy the generally questionable music from the
local bands that played there or simply unwind after work. Other times they used the bar as neutral
territory to work out their differences.
As regulars, they were greeted by a nod from the bartender who did his best to stifle his surprise when
the Steeles ordered club sodas instead of their usual bottle of wine and then picked a table on the patio
rather than the one they preferred in the dark corner of the bar.
Remington toyed with his glass. He wasn’t very good at these conversations. It was much easier to get
angry, make a joke or pretend not to care--but Laura wasn’t going to let him off this time. Knowing he
had to drop all pretentions to deal honestly with the emotions and fears swirling around had his gut in
knots.
Only Laura noted the subtle signs of his unease--the slight formal bow as he seated her and the crisp
British tones when he ordered the drinks. She’d learned to detect a great deal from his voice in two
years of living with him. On a regular day at home and in the office, his English accent was peppered
with an ever-increasing number of American idioms. Whenever he was especially relaxed or annoyed
with her in particular, the music of Ireland laced through his voice and phrasings. But when he was
uncomfortable or upset with himself, he resorted to the clipped language and exquisite manners Daniel
had drummed into him as a teenager.
She began by telling a story new to Remington. “In my first year at Havenhurst, I was part of a team
that tracked down a runaway girl. Her father had died of a brain tumor a few months before, and her
mother had become too depressed to see that her daughter needed help. The mother came to us, hoping
we could work faster than the police department. The girl was only fourteen. Since I looked so young, it
was my job to go where she had gone. We found her … and took her home. I’m sure you can imagine
what happens to girls like that in big cities. Believe me, I was very happy to have a big guy like Murphy
backing me up. Ironically, her mother was a psychologist. Thank God she got herself and her daughter
the help they both needed.”
Laura picked at her thumbnail. “For some reason, I stayed in touch with the mother. We weren’t
exactly friends, but we would meet for lunch from time to time. I guess I needed to know the girl would
be all right and what we did was worth it. And it was. She went on to college and became an
accountant. She’s engaged to be married in the fall. She’s happy and whole.”
“We had a lunch date a week after Wilson left and … and I fell apart right there in the restaurant.
Murphy was a fantastic shoulder to cry on, but Dr. Mariah Angelo put me back together. She made me
think everything through with logic and clarity. She’d battled depression and knew how to help me work
through it. It took months before I shook it completely, but in the end I felt strong. I was strong, but I
kept everyone locked out for fear of being hurt again. Mariah had been working with me on that when
you joined the agency. I … didn’t want you to find out and that’s when I stopped seeing her.”
He frowned at her. “Why?”
“Because I was trying so hard to keep the upper hand with you. I could see that we were spending more
and more time together, and all it would take was one slip for you to know I was seeing a therapist. I
was afraid that you … would either lose respect for me or that you would crack my defenses wide open.
It’s always been hard for me to block you out, Remington, and if you knew … you would have stayed
after me until you knew exactly why I was seeing her. I wasn’t ready for that.”
He nodded, acknowledging that she was probably right. Laura continued to explain, “The last time I met
with her, I ranted about this smug, gorgeous man in the office who thought he could have whatever he
wanted. I think you had been in the agency two or three months by then, and it was clear you weren’t
going away anytime soon. You know what she asked me?” He raised a brow. “One question: she
asked if I liked you.’” Laura rolled her eyes upward and shook her head. “And heaven help me, I said
‘yes.’ I remember that Dr. Angelo just smiled and nodded. It certainly didn’t surprise her on Monday to
find out we had married.”
Laura’s mood suddenly darkened, and she huddled in her chair, rubbing her arms. “When … when we
landed at the airport and Fred was parked out front, all I could see was the limo exploding, and I
remembered that awful pain of thinking you were in it. Oh damn--” She pressed one hand to her chest
and dashed away the tears that threatened to fall with the other. Rei reached for her hand, but she
stopped him. “I need to finish first. Everything I told you last night is true. The nightmares are awful,
and certain things put me right back in O’Callaghan’s cell. I don’t want to cling to you the way I did
Kate in high school when I finally realized our father wasn’t coming home, and Murphy just after Wilson
left. I never want to do that to another person. I swore I wouldn’t. I … I thought Mariah could help me
through this without dragging you into it.”
Remington, in front of all the world passing by, snatched her out of her chair and into his lap where he
could give her the comfort she’d needed that terrible day. “Oh, love.” He held her long and hard. Then
he eased back where he could look at her face. “I’m not sixteen and I’m not just a friend. Damn it,
Laura, I’m your partner--your husband. I can handle whatever hand I’m dealt--even if you’re the one
putting down the cards. Bloody hell, all this time I thought you blamed me.”
She shook her head. “I don’t. I truly don’t, Rei. I’ve told you that before and I’ll tell you again. None
of this was your fault.”
He pulled her to him again, needing her body against his. “Your belief in me is astounding, Laura.”
Relief rushed through him even as he privately hoped like hell that she never laid eyes on the tapes of
that night … because she might change her mind. Buchanan had promised that he’d buried them under
several layers of security and wouldn’t pull them out unless they were absolutely necessary to prosecute
the bully boys that had attacked Laura. Since they both had rap sheets several pages long, the Interpol
agent saw no reason to make the tapes public.
Laura pushed off him suddenly and stood, looking somewhat embarrassed as she made her excuses to go
to the ladies room. “Nausea again?” he wondered and then grinned as she shook her head and quick-
stepped into the pub. The books he’d read had warned about the danger of standing between a pregnant
woman and the bathroom--even one that was newly expecting.
When she returned, he could see she was self-conscious. She could be so bloody prim and proper
sometimes, and he loved poking fun at her. As she sat and smoothed her sweater, Remington cracked
her uptight demeanor with a smirk and arch of his brow. She rolled her eyes and bit her lip to hide a
smile.
Now it was his turn to lift her hand and hold it in his while he traced distracting patterns along the lines in
her palm. “Laura, can we talk about you and the agency?”
She looked away for a moment, and then her eyes came back to him. “Do you mean what you said last
night? About not trying to put limits on me?”
Remington slanted a wry grin her way. “Has it worked yet?” They both knew that over the years he’d
subtly tried to check her involvement in some of the more dangerous cases--usually when she was acting
as bait--to no avail.
She inhaled deeply and cocked her head. “No, but I do listen--especially when you make sensible
suggestions.” Taking interest in her fingernails again on the hand he wasn’t holding, she added, “I
thought that since you have a vested interest now, you would be more insistent.”
“Laura, I’ve always had a vested interest in your well-being. We both know you’re quite capable as a
detective, and I’m not questioning your abilities now. We know how to compensate at the agency when
one of us is physically incapable of chasing down a suspect.” With gentle persuasion he reminded her
that both of them had been injured in the past. “The difference is that now we have others who can pick
up the slack.”
“But this is permanent, Rei. I … oh, damn it. I’m jealous, okay? I know that I’m going to be the one
stuck in the office while you go out on cases. It’s sensible and logical and … and--“ she sputtered, trying
to find the right words.
“Boring?” he offered.
“Yes, it’s boring! I wanted to be a detective because I like excitement and solving mysteries, not because
I like sitting in an office all day. Unlike you, Mr. Steele, I like legwork.” Her lips pursed into the
slightest pout that he found charming because of its rarity.
“I wasn’t aware that pregnancy precluded legwork, Laura.” He leaned toward her and cupped her
cheek. “No more jousting at windmills, love. You do what you do best. When you find something you
can’t or don’t want to do, there will be others to do it in your place. Perhaps, not as well as you, but
well enough that the agency won’t go under.”
She nodded in response and wondered if he was being entirely honest with her. She hoped he was. At
the edge of her vision, she saw Fred arrive with the limousine and park in front of the pub.
This time, Remington was watching as Laura suddenly lost focus and her expression blanked. Her hand
went limp in his as her eyes reflected shock, despair and fear in rapid succession. Out of instinct, he
gripped her hand and leaned over to touch his lips to hers, bringing the other hand up again to cup her
head and hold her to him. Her lashes drifted down, and when she lifted them, he could see the
recognition in her eyes.
Rei kept his voice calm as he asked, “Does that happen every time?”
She took a shaky breath. “No. If I anticipate seeing the car, I can control it.”
“Is that what this is about? Controlling your reactions?”
Laura answered with more confidence. “Some. Mostly, it’s about consciously replacing negative
thoughts with good ones. The more I can think good things or at least neutral thoughts, over time, those
will become the automatic reactions rather than the ones I’m having now.” She sounded as if she was
reciting something she’d read in a book.
“Does it work?”
Laura blew out her breath. “Yes, if I make the effort.”
He stood, drawing her up with him and to him for a hug before they walked to the car. “Somehow, love,
I doubt that will be an issue.” And now at last, he understood where her iron-willed control came from.
Intelligence, determination and ability were forged together in the fires of heartbreak, first as a teen and
later as an adult, to make Laura Steele as strong as the name she created. He had no doubts she would
overcome this latest trial.
As they rode in the car in comfortable silence, Laura rested her head on his shoulder.
During Laura’s forty-five minute rehabilitation session, Remington stayed close where he could see what
the physical therapist, a young man by the name of Glenn Hathaway, was doing. For most of it, Laura
ran through a series of exercises while the therapist watched carefully. After she’d warmed up her legs
by riding a stationary bike for a few minutes, Glenn massaged the muscles and ligaments around her
knee. When he saw Steele watching, he waved the other man over.
He grinned and said, “You’re the one Mrs. Steele says has ‘magic hands.’ I think she prefers yours to
mine anyway.”
Remington cocked his head in a friendly manner. “Perhaps. But you’ll be the one to get her back on
two feet.”
“Nah. Mrs. Steele will do all the work. I’m just making sure the muscles don’t get too tight before she
starts the heavy-duty exercises. They need to be loose, and the ligaments need to be in the right place if
they are going to strengthen correctly.” That started a discussion between the two men about massage
techniques, and Laura was recipient of both the rather painful, deeper version that manipulated the
muscles and ligaments and the lighter one that soothed the discomfort.
Remington wasn’t comfortable using massage for physical therapy, but Glenn showed him a couple of
things that would help whenever her knee was especially sore as it had been this week as she resumed
walking without the crutches.
“Another week, Mrs. Steele, then we’ll switch to a Neoprene wrap for your knee.”
“How long will I have to wear that?”
“Can’t tell you. For sure for the rest of your pregnancy. Maybe off and on for the rest of your life.
We’ll know more in a month.”
Laura drooped. “I want to start running again.”
“Stick with the bike, Mrs. Steele. It’s the best thing right now because you can only use your knee joint
one way with it, and you are much less likely to reinjure it.” She nodded and moved away to do the
exercises he had taught her.
“Can she ride it at home?” Remington asked quietly.
“Of course. Do you have one?” Glenn cocked his head, thinking he remembered Mrs. Steele saying she
didn’t.
“She will.”
When the session was finished, Remington made a reference to having Fred pull the car around, and
Laura threw him a grateful look for the reminder. They had just enough time to stop by the agency to
retrieve the Auburn so that Fred could enjoy the rest of his weekend before zipping a few streets over to
Dr. Angelo’s office.
Mariah met them at the door with a wide smile. “I see you enticed him here, my friend.” Privately, she
had to pick her jaw up off the floor as the stunning Irishman escorted his lady-fair into her office. Laura
had mentioned that her husband looked rather like a fallen angel with his gorgeous looks and icy blue
eyes.
“She only had to ask,” he replied with his own answering smile. Laura bit her lip, feeling a little like a
young girl introducing her new beau to a favored aunt.
Dr. Angelo tilted her head, taking in their expressions and body language. “You’ve talked.” The pair
nodded and took the seat she indicated on the sofa. “Tell me.”
* * * * *
Later that night, long after the exhausted Michaels family had put their tired boys to bed and the four
adults had enjoyed a relaxing evening by the fire, Laura stood in the closet and rummaged around for a
nightshirt. From behind her, Remington murmured, “Don’t bother.” He drew her hair to the side and
feathered kisses across the back of her neck.
“Hmm? Why not?” she teased as she leaned into his touch.
“Therapy, remember? My job is to make sure you are utterly relaxed and have only positive images
before you go to sleep.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” She turned and made the unsurprising discovery that he wasn’t
wearing a stitch of clothing. Need fired through her in a heartbeat.
“Laura,” his fingertips skimmed down her arms, “do you need to ask?”
Caressing Laura’s damp hair as she sprawled across his body, spent from their lovemaking, Remington
murmured in her ear, “Marlene or Eva Marie … or perhaps Joseph … although I rather like Paul or
Richard, but I’m biased.”
While she was mustering up a retort, she fell asleep dreaming of baby names.
Chapter Seven--Changes
A tiny finger reached for the long black lock of hair dipping over a smooth forehead. A firm jerk had
blue eyes popping open. The culprit’s wide grin proved impossible to resist as was the identical one
immediately to his right. Remington untangled the fingers as Murphy attempted to retrieve his errant
children without waking him or Laura.
Of course, the toddlers let out maniacal shrieks as their father snatched one and missed the other as he
scampered out of the way. Rei saw that Laura somehow either slept through the ruckus or was
pretending not to hear it. He slipped out of bed to creep upon the other twin. A fast snatch had him in
his hands amid giggles and more shrieks. He winced as the lad--Ian, he decided, from the sly squint in
his brown eyes--found his chest hair and gave it a good, healthy yank. He gave the child a dark scowl
that resulted in more giggles as he retrieved his dressing gown and slipped out the door with it and the
little boy.
He stood the small boy on the sofa long enough to slip the robe over his shoulders and tie it before
settling Ian on his hip and heading for the kitchen. Either Laura or Kate had apparently set out a number
of kid-friendly foods on the counter so that Murphy wouldn’t have to go hunting for them. The boys’
father dumped Cheerios into green plastic bowls that certainly hadn’t come from Remington’s kitchen
and placed them in front of the wiggly creatures at the table. Sippy cups of milk were handed over, and
Murphy leaned against the counter in weariness.
“Coffee, I beg of you,” he croaked.
“Coming up.” As Remington brought out coffee beans to grind, he asked, “Will the boys eat eggs? I’ll
make breakfast.”
“Aiden will eat anything, including the carpet. Ian won’t touch anything but Cheerios, peanut butter and
apples. It’s a wonder he manages to grow as fast as his brother.” Murphy peeled a banana and broke it
into small pieces for the boys. Aiden stuffed two into his mouth at once while Ian smashed a chunk flat
with his chubby hand.
While the coffee dripped and the pan heated, Remington made his own tea and looked in on Laura. She’
d rolled over to where he’d been lying and snuggled with his pillow. He stroked her hair once and kissed
her temple, causing her to breathe a contented sigh in her sleep. Arching a brow at the clock when he
realized it wasn’t quite eight in the morning, he returned to the kitchen where Murphy was wiping down
faces and hands. The cheerful little boys promptly began chasing cars across the wood floors and
making sputtering noises in the process.
Remington stepped over Aiden and tossed vegetables into the pan to sauté in the heated oil. A few
minutes later, when Murphy sat down to his omelette, the boy immediately scrambled into his dad’s lap
and opened his mouth. Seeing the rate at which the child was consuming his father’s breakfast,
Remington cracked another egg into the bowl and set another, larger omelette to fry. Ian ignored them all
in favor of exploring the kitchen cabinets.
By the time Kate showered and wandered out of the bedroom ninety minutes later, awakened by the
shrieks and giggles of her sons, the kitchen was a disaster area. Pots and pans littered the floors, and
breakfast was scattered across the kitchen counters and dining room table. Cheerios dotted every surface
imaginable along with the inevitable droplets of milk. Murphy and Remington had each claimed a couch
where the twins took turns climbing over them, playing horsey and launching random attacks with stuffed
dinosaurs and miniature cars.
Ear-piercing shrieks of “Mama” erupted, and four sturdy legs stamped across the floor to swarm her. Ian
immediately began whining for a snack, and Aiden smacked his brother with a toy car. Automatically,
Kate separated the boys--putting each of them in a two-minute time-out in opposite corners--before
attacking the disaster area with a sponge.
Remington pushed himself off the sofa, wandering over to stare mournfully at his kitchen. Murphy
winced as he took a good look at the damage. “Sorry. We warned you they were miniature tornados.”
Cocking his head at his brother-in-law, he shrugged. “It’s nothing that can’t be cleaned.” He poured a
cup of coffee for Kate and traded it for the sponge. “I’ll do this.” In short order, he restored the area to
its normal pristine condition, handing the boys their mid-morning snack of graham crackers and grapes at
the dining table after their mom sprang them from time-out.
Murphy kissed Kate on the cheek and disappeared to shower. She leaned on the island where she could
keep an eye on her kids and sipped her coffee. “Did you and Laura work things out last night?”
Remington sighed inside but only gave her a pensive look as he washed out the sink. He’d wondered
how long it would take before she brought it up. He and Murphy had avoided the conversation in favor
of entertaining the twins, but Kate had a determined expression on her face he’d seen too many times on
his own wife to not know what it meant. “We talked.”
“Just an observation and then I’ll shut up and keep my nose out of your business.” He arched a brow at
her and waited, listening idly to the babble of the boys to his back. “If you two would quit trying to
protect each other, you’d both be happier. Neither of you has delicate sensibilities that need to be
shielded.” She tilted her cup up to drain it.
He dried his hands on a dish towel before folding it into a neat square and hanging it over the oven
handle. “Is that it?”
“That’s it. Oh, and try dry toast with Laura’s tea. When I was pregnant, it was the only thing that got
me through the first few weeks.” She gave him her version of the quirky half-smile Laura liked to shoot
at him.
Inexplicably, her calm understanding caused him to heave a shuddering sigh. He rounded the island and
caught her in a sisterly squeeze as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Then he nearly tripped as the boys double-teamed him, and each grabbed onto a leg from behind.
Recovering his sensibilities, he flashed Kate the wide grin that charmed Laura from the first day they'd
met in Los Angeles. “So tell me, exactly when did you discover you were having twins?” He dropped
down so the boys could climb up, and he stood with one on each hip. They squirmed mightily amid
giggles and squeals while he held firm.
Kate started to answer, but Laura appeared in the bedroom doorway, capturing his attention entirely.
Color in her face had replaced the awful pallor of the night before. Her hair was damp from her shower,
and she wore a pair of white capris and a sleeveless black sweater. She laughed at Remington’s attempt
to keep a solid grip on Aiden and Ian. He gave up when they spied their aunt and flopped limply over his
arms, becoming instant deadweights that nearly bowled him over. Ian wiggled away first and headed for
Laura. Aiden waited for his uncle to put him on the ground before chasing down his brother. Laura
caught both of them in an enormous hug that turned into a brief tickling match.
Remington smiled at the sight of his wife playing with the boys and took advantage of their distraction to
make her tea and toast. Kate showed mercy to her sister after a few moments and brought out a small
bag of toys. The twins lost interest in their aunt as they scattered the brightly-colored balls and blocks
across the living room floor.
Laura wrinkled her nose at the dry toast that her husband presented to her. “I’m starving and you’re
giving me bread?”
“Keep it down, love, while I shower, and I’ll make you a real breakfast. Deal?” He peered into her clear
maple eyes, relief unknotting the tension in his shoulders as he saw that the stress lines had eased from
her face. Something else was in her expression. At the moment he was at a loss to define it, only noting
the slight curve to her lips and the fact that she had walked across the room without a limp for the first
time.
“Deal.” She flashed a beautiful, sultry smile that lit sparks throughout him. Remington forgot all about
Kate and the twins as he lowered his head to hers. When he hesitated, his mouth hovering a breath
above her lips, she pressed up on her toes and reeled him in. In her ineffable combination of citrus and
sunshine, he lost himself as her warmth washed through him, chasing away the darkness with ease.
This was what he’d been missing since that Sunday in Ireland. It was a simple fact that from the first
day they'd met, her eyes warmed and her touch healed him. These past four weeks, he’d felt his soul
growing colder and more frightened each day as he’d been unable to give her whatever she needed that
would bring back the light. Locked to her, he savored--taking what he needed and giving it back again.
Kate fanned herself with raised brows. “Good Heavens! You have a bedroom. Use it.”
Laura blushed scarlet as Remington broke their kiss and held her to him. She looked up through her
lashes and saw the cocky Irishman with his scruffy beard and mussed hair that she’d missed so.
He winked at Kate before diving his hands through his wife’s hair and landing a kiss on her lips one last
time. “Toast, love. Eat your toast,” he ordered before disappearing into the bedroom.
Whistling in appreciation, Kate leaned on the island and fanned herself comically. “Damn, Lunatic,
Murphy’s not going to know what hit him later. And I’m sure not going to tell him!”
Two slices of very dry toast later, along with the tea to wash it down, the bare edges of Laura’s hunger
had been assuaged, and she was grateful that the nausea was in abeyance for the moment. While she
ate, Kate filled her in on the plans for the evening.
“We’re going to see Frances and Donald after the boys take a nap, and we’re staying for dinner,
remember? We’ll be back around eight to put the boys to bed. I promise that we’ll keep our lips sealed
so you can tell everyone the good news tomorrow when Mom is here.”
“Act surprised or we’ll both be in the doghouse.” Laura snorted as she watched the toddlers aim in their
direction.
“Of course. And Laura,” Kate picked up Aiden as he pulled on her leg for attention, “you and
Remington need to talk. Don’t wait.”
Her sister nodded and lifted Ian when he demanded equal treatment. Laura cradled her nephew for the
brief moment he allowed before he slipped out of her arms and ran back to his toys. She wandered after
him, taking the small objects he offered and trading them out as he brought her new ones.
An hour or so after the four adults finished lunch, the boys woke from their naps and their parents
bundled them into Laura’s car for the short trip to Tarzana. Laura and Remington returned to find their
flat oddly quiet without the twins’ giggles, babbles and shrieks. Awkward silence dominated for a
moment as each of them tried to think of a way to reopen the conversation from the night before.
“Do you want--“ he started.
“Can we--“ she said at the same time.
“You first,” Remington offered with an elegant gesture.
Thinking of Dr. Angelo’s homework, Laura replied, “Can we go somewhere else to talk? Not here
again. I don’t want to bring it home.”
With a shrug, Rei slipped Laura’s jacket over her shoulders and carried his own. Then he stopped and
snorted. “Murphy took the Lexus and the Auburn’s at the office. He wouldn’t let me drive last night.
Can you walk to the pub? We can sit outside so the smoke won’t--“ his voice trailed off, and he looked
away in chagrin.
She reached out, gathering his hand in hers. “--bother the baby? I think that’s a great idea. And yes, I
can walk to the pub as long as I’m wearing that infernal brace.”
“Then I’ll call and have Fred pick us up there at two-thirty for your physical therapy.”
Hand-in-hand, the couple walked the one block to the neighborhood bar situated just north of their
apartment on Rossmore. There they found a table facing the busy street where the ambient noise and
position on the edge of the patio gave them a relative amount of privacy. Over the past two years, the
Steeles had come here any number of times to dance, enjoy the generally questionable music from the
local bands that played there or simply unwind after work. Other times they used the bar as neutral
territory to work out their differences.
As regulars, they were greeted by a nod from the bartender who did his best to stifle his surprise when
the Steeles ordered club sodas instead of their usual bottle of wine and then picked a table on the patio
rather than the one they preferred in the dark corner of the bar.
Remington toyed with his glass. He wasn’t very good at these conversations. It was much easier to get
angry, make a joke or pretend not to care--but Laura wasn’t going to let him off this time. Knowing he
had to drop all pretentions to deal honestly with the emotions and fears swirling around had his gut in
knots.
Only Laura noted the subtle signs of his unease--the slight formal bow as he seated her and the crisp
British tones when he ordered the drinks. She’d learned to detect a great deal from his voice in two
years of living with him. On a regular day at home and in the office, his English accent was peppered
with an ever-increasing number of American idioms. Whenever he was especially relaxed or annoyed
with her in particular, the music of Ireland laced through his voice and phrasings. But when he was
uncomfortable or upset with himself, he resorted to the clipped language and exquisite manners Daniel
had drummed into him as a teenager.
She began by telling a story new to Remington. “In my first year at Havenhurst, I was part of a team
that tracked down a runaway girl. Her father had died of a brain tumor a few months before, and her
mother had become too depressed to see that her daughter needed help. The mother came to us, hoping
we could work faster than the police department. The girl was only fourteen. Since I looked so young, it
was my job to go where she had gone. We found her … and took her home. I’m sure you can imagine
what happens to girls like that in big cities. Believe me, I was very happy to have a big guy like Murphy
backing me up. Ironically, her mother was a psychologist. Thank God she got herself and her daughter
the help they both needed.”
Laura picked at her thumbnail. “For some reason, I stayed in touch with the mother. We weren’t
exactly friends, but we would meet for lunch from time to time. I guess I needed to know the girl would
be all right and what we did was worth it. And it was. She went on to college and became an
accountant. She’s engaged to be married in the fall. She’s happy and whole.”
“We had a lunch date a week after Wilson left and … and I fell apart right there in the restaurant.
Murphy was a fantastic shoulder to cry on, but Dr. Mariah Angelo put me back together. She made me
think everything through with logic and clarity. She’d battled depression and knew how to help me work
through it. It took months before I shook it completely, but in the end I felt strong. I was strong, but I
kept everyone locked out for fear of being hurt again. Mariah had been working with me on that when
you joined the agency. I … didn’t want you to find out and that’s when I stopped seeing her.”
He frowned at her. “Why?”
“Because I was trying so hard to keep the upper hand with you. I could see that we were spending more
and more time together, and all it would take was one slip for you to know I was seeing a therapist. I
was afraid that you … would either lose respect for me or that you would crack my defenses wide open.
It’s always been hard for me to block you out, Remington, and if you knew … you would have stayed
after me until you knew exactly why I was seeing her. I wasn’t ready for that.”
He nodded, acknowledging that she was probably right. Laura continued to explain, “The last time I met
with her, I ranted about this smug, gorgeous man in the office who thought he could have whatever he
wanted. I think you had been in the agency two or three months by then, and it was clear you weren’t
going away anytime soon. You know what she asked me?” He raised a brow. “One question: she
asked if I liked you.’” Laura rolled her eyes upward and shook her head. “And heaven help me, I said
‘yes.’ I remember that Dr. Angelo just smiled and nodded. It certainly didn’t surprise her on Monday to
find out we had married.”
Laura’s mood suddenly darkened, and she huddled in her chair, rubbing her arms. “When … when we
landed at the airport and Fred was parked out front, all I could see was the limo exploding, and I
remembered that awful pain of thinking you were in it. Oh damn--” She pressed one hand to her chest
and dashed away the tears that threatened to fall with the other. Rei reached for her hand, but she
stopped him. “I need to finish first. Everything I told you last night is true. The nightmares are awful,
and certain things put me right back in O’Callaghan’s cell. I don’t want to cling to you the way I did
Kate in high school when I finally realized our father wasn’t coming home, and Murphy just after Wilson
left. I never want to do that to another person. I swore I wouldn’t. I … I thought Mariah could help me
through this without dragging you into it.”
Remington, in front of all the world passing by, snatched her out of her chair and into his lap where he
could give her the comfort she’d needed that terrible day. “Oh, love.” He held her long and hard. Then
he eased back where he could look at her face. “I’m not sixteen and I’m not just a friend. Damn it,
Laura, I’m your partner--your husband. I can handle whatever hand I’m dealt--even if you’re the one
putting down the cards. Bloody hell, all this time I thought you blamed me.”
She shook her head. “I don’t. I truly don’t, Rei. I’ve told you that before and I’ll tell you again. None
of this was your fault.”
He pulled her to him again, needing her body against his. “Your belief in me is astounding, Laura.”
Relief rushed through him even as he privately hoped like hell that she never laid eyes on the tapes of
that night … because she might change her mind. Buchanan had promised that he’d buried them under
several layers of security and wouldn’t pull them out unless they were absolutely necessary to prosecute
the bully boys that had attacked Laura. Since they both had rap sheets several pages long, the Interpol
agent saw no reason to make the tapes public.
Laura pushed off him suddenly and stood, looking somewhat embarrassed as she made her excuses to go
to the ladies room. “Nausea again?” he wondered and then grinned as she shook her head and quick-
stepped into the pub. The books he’d read had warned about the danger of standing between a pregnant
woman and the bathroom--even one that was newly expecting.
When she returned, he could see she was self-conscious. She could be so bloody prim and proper
sometimes, and he loved poking fun at her. As she sat and smoothed her sweater, Remington cracked
her uptight demeanor with a smirk and arch of his brow. She rolled her eyes and bit her lip to hide a
smile.
Now it was his turn to lift her hand and hold it in his while he traced distracting patterns along the lines in
her palm. “Laura, can we talk about you and the agency?”
She looked away for a moment, and then her eyes came back to him. “Do you mean what you said last
night? About not trying to put limits on me?”
Remington slanted a wry grin her way. “Has it worked yet?” They both knew that over the years he’d
subtly tried to check her involvement in some of the more dangerous cases--usually when she was acting
as bait--to no avail.
She inhaled deeply and cocked her head. “No, but I do listen--especially when you make sensible
suggestions.” Taking interest in her fingernails again on the hand he wasn’t holding, she added, “I
thought that since you have a vested interest now, you would be more insistent.”
“Laura, I’ve always had a vested interest in your well-being. We both know you’re quite capable as a
detective, and I’m not questioning your abilities now. We know how to compensate at the agency when
one of us is physically incapable of chasing down a suspect.” With gentle persuasion he reminded her
that both of them had been injured in the past. “The difference is that now we have others who can pick
up the slack.”
“But this is permanent, Rei. I … oh, damn it. I’m jealous, okay? I know that I’m going to be the one
stuck in the office while you go out on cases. It’s sensible and logical and … and--“ she sputtered, trying
to find the right words.
“Boring?” he offered.
“Yes, it’s boring! I wanted to be a detective because I like excitement and solving mysteries, not because
I like sitting in an office all day. Unlike you, Mr. Steele, I like legwork.” Her lips pursed into the
slightest pout that he found charming because of its rarity.
“I wasn’t aware that pregnancy precluded legwork, Laura.” He leaned toward her and cupped her
cheek. “No more jousting at windmills, love. You do what you do best. When you find something you
can’t or don’t want to do, there will be others to do it in your place. Perhaps, not as well as you, but
well enough that the agency won’t go under.”
She nodded in response and wondered if he was being entirely honest with her. She hoped he was. At
the edge of her vision, she saw Fred arrive with the limousine and park in front of the pub.
This time, Remington was watching as Laura suddenly lost focus and her expression blanked. Her hand
went limp in his as her eyes reflected shock, despair and fear in rapid succession. Out of instinct, he
gripped her hand and leaned over to touch his lips to hers, bringing the other hand up again to cup her
head and hold her to him. Her lashes drifted down, and when she lifted them, he could see the
recognition in her eyes.
Rei kept his voice calm as he asked, “Does that happen every time?”
She took a shaky breath. “No. If I anticipate seeing the car, I can control it.”
“Is that what this is about? Controlling your reactions?”
Laura answered with more confidence. “Some. Mostly, it’s about consciously replacing negative
thoughts with good ones. The more I can think good things or at least neutral thoughts, over time, those
will become the automatic reactions rather than the ones I’m having now.” She sounded as if she was
reciting something she’d read in a book.
“Does it work?”
Laura blew out her breath. “Yes, if I make the effort.”
He stood, drawing her up with him and to him for a hug before they walked to the car. “Somehow, love,
I doubt that will be an issue.” And now at last, he understood where her iron-willed control came from.
Intelligence, determination and ability were forged together in the fires of heartbreak, first as a teen and
later as an adult, to make Laura Steele as strong as the name she created. He had no doubts she would
overcome this latest trial.
As they rode in the car in comfortable silence, Laura rested her head on his shoulder.
During Laura’s forty-five minute rehabilitation session, Remington stayed close where he could see what
the physical therapist, a young man by the name of Glenn Hathaway, was doing. For most of it, Laura
ran through a series of exercises while the therapist watched carefully. After she’d warmed up her legs
by riding a stationary bike for a few minutes, Glenn massaged the muscles and ligaments around her
knee. When he saw Steele watching, he waved the other man over.
He grinned and said, “You’re the one Mrs. Steele says has ‘magic hands.’ I think she prefers yours to
mine anyway.”
Remington cocked his head in a friendly manner. “Perhaps. But you’ll be the one to get her back on
two feet.”
“Nah. Mrs. Steele will do all the work. I’m just making sure the muscles don’t get too tight before she
starts the heavy-duty exercises. They need to be loose, and the ligaments need to be in the right place if
they are going to strengthen correctly.” That started a discussion between the two men about massage
techniques, and Laura was recipient of both the rather painful, deeper version that manipulated the
muscles and ligaments and the lighter one that soothed the discomfort.
Remington wasn’t comfortable using massage for physical therapy, but Glenn showed him a couple of
things that would help whenever her knee was especially sore as it had been this week as she resumed
walking without the crutches.
“Another week, Mrs. Steele, then we’ll switch to a Neoprene wrap for your knee.”
“How long will I have to wear that?”
“Can’t tell you. For sure for the rest of your pregnancy. Maybe off and on for the rest of your life.
We’ll know more in a month.”
Laura drooped. “I want to start running again.”
“Stick with the bike, Mrs. Steele. It’s the best thing right now because you can only use your knee joint
one way with it, and you are much less likely to reinjure it.” She nodded and moved away to do the
exercises he had taught her.
“Can she ride it at home?” Remington asked quietly.
“Of course. Do you have one?” Glenn cocked his head, thinking he remembered Mrs. Steele saying she
didn’t.
“She will.”
When the session was finished, Remington made a reference to having Fred pull the car around, and
Laura threw him a grateful look for the reminder. They had just enough time to stop by the agency to
retrieve the Auburn so that Fred could enjoy the rest of his weekend before zipping a few streets over to
Dr. Angelo’s office.
Mariah met them at the door with a wide smile. “I see you enticed him here, my friend.” Privately, she
had to pick her jaw up off the floor as the stunning Irishman escorted his lady-fair into her office. Laura
had mentioned that her husband looked rather like a fallen angel with his gorgeous looks and icy blue
eyes.
“She only had to ask,” he replied with his own answering smile. Laura bit her lip, feeling a little like a
young girl introducing her new beau to a favored aunt.
Dr. Angelo tilted her head, taking in their expressions and body language. “You’ve talked.” The pair
nodded and took the seat she indicated on the sofa. “Tell me.”
* * * * *
Later that night, long after the exhausted Michaels family had put their tired boys to bed and the four
adults had enjoyed a relaxing evening by the fire, Laura stood in the closet and rummaged around for a
nightshirt. From behind her, Remington murmured, “Don’t bother.” He drew her hair to the side and
feathered kisses across the back of her neck.
“Hmm? Why not?” she teased as she leaned into his touch.
“Therapy, remember? My job is to make sure you are utterly relaxed and have only positive images
before you go to sleep.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” She turned and made the unsurprising discovery that he wasn’t
wearing a stitch of clothing. Need fired through her in a heartbeat.
“Laura,” his fingertips skimmed down her arms, “do you need to ask?”
Caressing Laura’s damp hair as she sprawled across his body, spent from their lovemaking, Remington
murmured in her ear, “Marlene or Eva Marie … or perhaps Joseph … although I rather like Paul or
Richard, but I’m biased.”
While she was mustering up a retort, she fell asleep dreaming of baby names.
Chapter Seven--Changes