A Steele Christmas
A Steele ChristmasThe fire was burning, the food has been cleared. Laura flipped a switch on the wall, turning on the softly flashing lights on the tree. She saw Remington take a deep breath as he dropped onto the hearthrug with the bottle of champagne and their glasses.
Laura joined him. "I love the way a Christmas tree lights up a room," she said, sitting beside him and taking the glass he handed her.
He studied her in the flickering lights. "I've never noticed it before. But you're right. Guess I just never saw it with the right company." Laura smiled and looked into the flames.
The room was quiet for a moment. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Joining in downstairs. Admit it. You enjoyed it, didn't you?" Her eyes were on him, watching him. "Honestly."
"Yes," he said at last. "For the most part. But I draw the line at songs about reindeer."
Laura laughed, and so did he. "You happen to be talking about one of my favorite Christmas songs," she told him.
"You're hopeless," he laughed. "Totally, utterly hopeless." He pulled her closer. "And delightful. And I don't know what my life would have been like if I hadn't had the good fortune to meet you, Laura Holt."
"You'd be in Cannes, or Paris," she speculated. "With some tall, leggy blonde chemin de fer dealer, probably planning your next caper."
"Or I'd be in prison somewhere," he said. "I much prefer my life now."
"You don't miss the excitement?" she asked.
Remington laughed. "What excitement? Worrying about being caught? About my partner stabbing my in the back? I find my life as Remington Steele exciting enough, thank you." He sat forward to refill his glass and hers. "I wish there was some way I could thank you for inventing Remington Steele- for giving me a way to turn my life around. Make something of myself that I can be proud of."
"I don't expect any thanks," Laura said softly. "I didn't do anything except provide the means. You changed your life."
"Be that as it may," he said, taking a small package from his pocket and holding it out. Laura hesitated as she looked at the beribboned box. "Merry Christmas."
With shaking hands, Laura took the present and lifted the lid from the box. Seeing the contents, she glanced up into those blue eyes that reminded her more often than not of the Royal Lavulite which had brought them together. She placed the velvet square into her hand and slowly opened it. Her gasp was soft as she watched the reflections of the multicolored lights in the diamond ring. "Mr. Steele- What is this?"
"I think it's called a present, Miss Holt," he said with a touch of humor.
"I KNOW that, Mr. Steele. What does it mean?"
Remington shrugged, his gaze moving back to the fire. "Whatever you like. Friendship. Promise. Engagement. Pick any of the above."
She studied the ring in silence, trying to find the right words. "I don't think- I mean, we're neither one of us ready for-that kind of commitment." She closed the box, placing it on the carpet between them.
He turned to look at her, and Laura found herself mesmerized by the play of the Christmas tree lights on his face. "Laura, I've been here for five years. Before I became Remington Steele, I never spent more than six months in one place. What do I have to do to make you understand that you're not going to wake up one morning and find me gone?"
She felt herself closing up, and drew her knees up to her chest. "I did once."
"And you came to find me," he reminded her. "I hoped you would, you know. I left a trail that I was sure you could follow, if you wanted to." He sighed. "It's not me you're thinking about. It's Wilson. And your father. You've lived your life these last few years trying to avoid another repeat of that heartbreak."
She blinked back the tears. They had covered this ground before, at the sensitivity spa, but then the words had been angry, designed to hurt. "I can't help being afraid. Daddy left, Wilson left. If you left for good-, I don't know what I'd do. I have to- guard against depending on your being there, to keep from being hurt again."
Remington placed a hand on her arm as he listened to her softly spoken confession. "Laura, I can't guarantee the future. If I could, I'd wrap it up in a big bow and give it to you with all my heart. But I can tell you that if it's within my power, I'm not going anywhere. I'm content to spend the rest of my life by your side." He picked up the ring box, then took her hand. Placing a kiss on her palm, he put the velvet box where he had just kissed. Closing her fingers, he kissed them. "So when you decide to trust me- to trust yourself, you know where to find me. I don't want anything that you're not ready to give, Laura." He dropped a light kiss on her lips, then rose from the floor. "Goodnight."
Laura didn't respond as he closed his bedroom door behind him. She wiped a tear from her cheek. Was he right? Was it that she was simply afraid to trust herself? To trust her ability to keep a man from leaving the way her father and Wilson had left?
She opened the box in her hand once more to examine the ring. Friendship, he'd said. Well, they were friends. But they were more than that. Promise? The promise of what? A future? Their future? The first step toward that future involved risking more than she'd been willing to risk. She couldn't help but recall Daniel Chalmers' insistence that Mr. Steele had only stayed around because the two of them hadn't "experienced the ultimate moment". Was he right? She didn't want to believe it. She was certain that her Mr. Steele, if he'd wanted to, could have gotten her into bed during those first few days, when he'd been Benjamin Pearson. No, there had to be another reason for his staying.
Her hands shook as she took the ring from the box and held it to the light of the fire. A single solitaire diamond, marquis cut. Simple, understated. Laura slipped it onto her left hand, and was surprised when it fit as if made for her. She held out her hand, examining it, getting used to the feel of it on her finger. She'd gotten him a Christmas present, and intended to give it to him tomorrow. But perhaps there was something else she could give him- and in the process give herself as well. She glanced at his closed door, saw the light go out. Slowly, as if a force was pulling her that was greater than herself, she rose and turned toward that door.
Remington punched the pillow again, trying to get comfortable in the bed. There had been a time when he could sleep anywhere: a doorway, an abandoned warehouse, a dirty hotel. He'd gotten too spoiled to his own bed, he supposed. He was getting soft, he told himself, closing his eyes in an effort to sleep.
He heard the door open, and his eyes flew open to find Laura standing hesitantly in the doorway, her figure outlined by the flickering lights behind her. He didn't say anything. This had to be her decision now. "Mr. Steele," she said quietly.
"Yes?" he said softly, and watched as she came forward to stand at the foot of his bed, his sharp eyes catching the glimmer of light in the diamond on her finger.
"Maybe-maybe you're right. About- about my not trusting- myself. I've tried so hard to keep from making my mother's mistake. To keep from becoming to- dependent on your always being there. Maybe I've tried too hard. Maybe-Maybe-"
Remington held out a hand toward her. "Come here, Laura."
She went to him, without her usual reservation. He wasn't going anywhere. He'd been with her for five years. He always seemed to be there when she needed him. He'd come a long way, her Mr. Steele, she thought as she snuggled against him. She looked at him, and met him halfway in a kiss that seared her soul to its core.
When the kiss ended, Remington pulled her head down to rest on his shoulder. She could feel his heart beating as rapidly as hers, feel his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. Had their kiss affected him as deeply as it had her, she wondered?
"Mr. Steele-" she felt him sigh. "What?" she asked, looking at him.
"I hardly think the current circumstances warrant such formality, eh?"
Laura grinned. "True. But I still don't know what to call you when we're alone."
"Still don't like the name Remington, then." When she nodded, he said, "Then pick another. You did that once, remember?"
"And I just happened to pick the same name that Daniel Chalmers calls you: Harry."
"That would be fine with me, having the two people who I owe the most to calling me the same name."
"What about clients? What if I slip up? Call you Harry in front of someone else?"
Remington thought for a moment. "Tell them that it's my middle name."
"Remington Harry Steele?" she questioned doubtfully.
"Remington Harrison Steele," he responded. "We can say that it's a family name."
"That might work," Laura mused. "Harry." She looked at him again. "You DO look like a Harry, you know."
"Do I? I'd never thought about it."
"Won't Daniel be surprised when he finds out that I'm using HIS name for you?" she asked rhetorically.
"I think he'll be honored."
"He still thinks that you've only stayed around for one reason, you know," she said, putting her head back onto his shoulder.
"Mmm," Remington said thoughtfully. "The- 'ultimate moment', as I recall." He raised up on one elbow to look down at her. "Laura, I'll be here. Even if we do make love, my feelings for you won't change."
"If we make love?" she asked. "I thought-"
"It's your decision. If you don't think you're ready yet, then we'll just lie here, together, for the night. Get used to each other- to our being together."
"We've slept in the same bed before, Mr.-Harry," she amended, and saw him smile.
"But there's a difference." He gave her a brief, teasing kiss. "Why don't you go and get ready for bed and then, if you like, come back in here. We'll see how things go."
Laura gazed into his eyes, then slid her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss before sliding out of bed. "I'll be right back," she promised.
Remington lay back down and watched the doorway. He'd meant what he had said. If she simply wanted to let him hold her for the night, then he'd accept that. It was a place to start, anyway. A promise of a future that he'd been dreaming about for five years, ever since he had first seen her. It seemed that hours had passed by the time she reappeared in the doorway, wearing a nightgown that shimmered in the light. Silk. He recognized the sound as she moved across the carpeted floor. Remington watched her, then lifted the covers in silent invitation. Laura only hesitated a moment before sliding in beside him, her head once again on his shoulder, her hand on his chest. "Thank you," he said, kissing her hair.
"What for?"
"For coming back. For trusting me."
"Trusting you is the easy part, -Harry," she told him. "It's trusting ME that I have to work on."
He could feel how nervous she was, how uncertain. Giving her another light kiss, he settled back, his arm around her, her head still on his shoulder. "We'll work on it together, okay? G'night, love." He felt her reaction to the endearment.
Laura looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. She wanted to ask about it, but he sensed that she was afraid to. "But- what about-?"
Remington pulled her more closely against him. "We've both had a long, trying day. The flight here, an afternoon skiing. I'll be content to just have you by my side tonight. Goodnight."
"Night, Harry," she responded in a dazed, absent voice. She was off balance, Remington realized. Good. Now she knew how he had felt all these years.
But it was still quite awhile before he was able to fall asleep...