A Steele Christmas
Part Four
Rated "R" - adult situations
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Remington watched Laura sleep, trying to understand the fear that he gripped him during the night. He had dreamt- not for the first time- of making love with Laura. Only it hadn't changed a thing. The next morning, she had still been just as fearful and distrustful as she had before. He brushed a strand of hair from her face and his light touch caused her to stir.

She opened her eyes and smiled, lifting her arms around his neck as if waking up beside him was something she'd done a thousand times before. "Merry Christmas, Mr. St-" she grinned. "Harry."

Remington's lips met hers. "Merry Christmas." Laura pulled his head back down to hers to continue the kiss, but Remington held himself in check. Ignoring her confusion, he said, "Why don't I order breakfast? Then we can go find Miss Noel and her friend, and we can head back to Los Angeles. With any luck, you should get to Frances' just in time for dinner."

Laura stretched. "You mean WE, don't you?"

He paused, his hand on the telephone. "We?"

"WE will get to Frances' in time for dinner."

"Laura, I thought we'd been through this."

"Ah, but that was before THIS," she told him, waving her left hand under his nose, showing him the sparkling diamond ring. "It changes things. Makes you no longer an outsider. So you have no excuse for refusing to go with me."

"But-" he began, searching his mind for another excuse. "I haven't done any shopping."

"They won't care. I think I bought enough for us both." She smiled sweetly. "Are you going to order breakfast, Harry?" She lay back on the bed. "I'm starving."

He picked up the phone, but kept his gaze on her. "Starving, eh?" he asked, and her smile told him that she had known precisely what she had said. He ordered breakfast, then hung up. "Starving," he said again, only to find himself flat on his back, Laura on top of him.

"Ravenous," Laura amended, lowering her head to his as her hands worked on the buttons of is silk pajama top.

"Breakfast should be here any minute," he said when she ended the kiss.

Laura raised up, frowning at him. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"Nothing," he said. "I just-"

She began to pull away. "You're having second thoughts, aren't you? Wondering how you wound up with someone like me?"

"Oh, no," he quickly assured her, pinning her to the bed with his leg and arm to keep her from escaping. "No. I'm sorry, love. I had a- dream last night. We made love- and you were the one who walked away."

Laura reached up to touch his face. "I'm not going anywhere, Harry," she whispered. "I'm the one who chased you all the way to England, remember?"

Remington placed a kiss into her palm, rolling over again until she was sitting astride his hips. "Where were we?" he asked, sliding the lace straps of her gown from her shoulders. Laura lifted her arms from them, allowing the silk to fall below her breasts. He saw the uncertainty in her eyes. Reaching out with shaking hands, Remington placed them over her breasts. "You're beautiful, Laura. More beautiful than any dream I've ever had." As he watched, she lifted the silk over her head, leaving herself open and vulnerable to his gaze.

"I think you're a bit overdressed, Harry," she told him, pulling on his arms to bring him to a sitting position so she could remove his pajama top and toss it across the room with her gown.

Remington captured her lips, holding her against his chest. His lips moved down her neck, toward her breasts. Laura's head was back, her mouth open as she moaned softly in response to his ministrations. He rolled them over, preparing to remove the final barrier between them, only to freeze as there was a knock on the door. "Damn."

"Breakfast," Laura told him.

"Hmm. Maybe he'll leave it and go away," he said with his mouth against her shoulder.

Another knock- this time joined by the telephone ringing. Remington could feel Laura's frustrated laughter. "Why don't you go get breakfast and I'll answer the telephone."

"Probably Mildred," Remington said, grabbing his robe from the end of the bed as he headed toward the door and Laura picked up the telephone.

Remington shook his head as he went to the front door of the suite. "Coming!" he called out. Opening the door, he was surprised to see a smiling George standing beside the breakfast cart.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Steele," he said. "I've got your breakfast."

"Thank you. Bring it in, please." He stepped back, opening the door wider. "I'm surprised to see you working this morning."

"Oh, I'll be off in another hour. Then I'm going into town to my folks' house. Christmas dinner with the entire family. My sister's coming in from New York. Haven't seen her in six months. She's got a new baby-" He stopped, grinning. "You don't want to hear about my plans." He had Remington sign the ticket, then turned back toward the door as the bedroom door opened and Laura appeared- clad only in the red silk pajama top that was an obvious match to the bottoms that Remington was wearing. George gave Remington a knowing grin. "Well, I'll see you later. Merry Christmas again."

"Merry Christmas," Laura replied, lifting the lid from a chafing dish to examine the contents.

Remington closed the door behind George, then turned to watch Laura. The fact that she had come out here, knowing that someone else was here, dressed like THAT was a revelation to him. Was this the woman she had kept so carefully hidden since Wilson Jefferies had deserted her? All morning he'd seen glimpses of that woman, flashes of the wild, free spirit that he'd always pictured Laura as being. "Who was on the phone?" he asked as she picked up a strawberry.

"Mildred. She wanted to wish us Merry Christmas."

He pulled a chair out for her at the table, then went to sit in the other one. "Is she at her sister's?"

"I guess," Laura told him. "She usually goes to visit for Christmas."

Remington felt something touch his leg, and his eyes flew to Laura, who was apparently concentrating on the fruit and croissants she had put onto her plate. He continued to eat breakfast, aware that Laura's foot was moving farther and farther up his leg. When she reached her destination, he was just taking a sip of orange juice, and almost choked.

Laura looked concerned. "Is something wrong?" she asked with faux innocence.

Remington pretended to examine the glass. "Must have been a pit in there," he told her. "Eat up. We need to get to Noel's house and close this case." He cleared his throat as her foot touched him again. Two could play at this little game, he thought, lifting his own foot to find her leg. Laura paused for a moment before resuming tearing apart a flaky croissant. She picked up another strawberry and, her eyes finally meeting his, bit into the ripe flesh. Remington's breath caught in his throat. Getting used to the "new" Laura was going to take some time.

She dropped the stem onto her plate as his foot reached the apex of her thighs. "Why don't we go back into the bedroom?" she suggested in a low voice that gave away how deeply she was aroused.

Remington smiled. "Because we'll never get to the Noel house if we do," he told her. "I thought you were the one who wanted to get back to Los Angeles for Christmas?"

"Christmas," she sighed, then her eyes widened. "Oh my. You're right." She placed her napkin on the table, then removed her foot from his chair before getting up. "We'd better get going, hadn't we?" she asked, pausing to give him a quick, promise filled kiss en route to her own bedroom.

Shaking his head, Remington finished his coffee, then went to take a shower and dress. He had a feeling that it was going to be an interesting day.
To Be Continued---
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Original content ©1999 by Nancy Eddy