Chapter 3: Family Heirlooms

"It's likely to be a late night again, love," he told her, shrugging on a loose fitting linen, shirt, "Are you sure you're up to it?" His eyes followed Laura as she gingerly moved around their bedroom while getting dressed.

As Remington had predicted, news of his return to the island – in the company of his new bride, no less – had spread across the island like wildfire. By the time he and Laura had returned to the house in the late afternoon, Marcos had decreed a party was once more in order so that all who were not in attendance the previous night could celebrate the nuptials of their Xenos and his Laura. The numbers of those in attendance would be staggering and the affair would, no doubt, last deep into the night, weekday evening or not. The Androkus family worked hard and played hard, living life to its fullest. He was looking forward to the evening, whereas Laura? He wasn't sure at the moment.

Sitting down slowly on the bed to latch the straps of her heels, she glared at him.

"Really, Laura, I don't know why you're annoyed with me. I didn't do anything wrong." Another glare. "All I did was laugh."

They had fallen asleep in each other's arms for a couple hours that afternoon after their love making session. He had awakened to her soft groan as she'd started to peel her body from his, only to moan even louder at the movement. Eyes still closed, his lips lifted into a smile. For years he'd believed that she would be his match in the bedroom, simply her passion in day-to-day life attesting to that. That her appetite for him knew no bounds was a stunning discovery that humbled him, even as he marveled that his body managed to keep pace. His smile only broadened at the thought. He was, after all, a man that loved a good challenge.

So, when he woke to her moan, his body flared to life. Granted, given that she'd been laying atop him as she slept - her soft breath on his chest, her small hands stroking his body even in her sleep, and each of her movements providing exquisite friction against a certain part of his anatomy – he'd been on the edge of readiness before even opening his eyes.

"It'd be my absolute pleasure, love," he'd whispered to her, the hand laying on her lower back patting her softly on her bottom to let her know he was awake and more than willing to address her needs.

"Owwwwww," she'd screeched at the contact, throwing herself off of him, and getting to her feet doing a dance as she spun round and round trying to see her very red bottom – the only place on her body he had not enjoyably slathered with sunscreen that afternoon. The scene had been priceless and he had burst out in laughter before he could help himself.

"Laura, I give you my word," he told her now, "I covered you up before we fell asleep. It must have slipped off."

Another glare, as she walked haltingly across the room towards the bedroom door. "All you got," she accused, "was a great tan."

"I hardly have any control of that," he pointed out. Another glare. "Besides, it occurs to me that perhaps I should be a bit put out that my tan is decidedly uneven as the sun was prevented from reaching a good deal of my anatomy since it was well-covered by someone," he teased in an attempt at humor. Another glare. He gave up with a shrug. "Ready?" he asked holding out his elbow for her to take.

Frowning at him, she took his arm, and only pasted on a smile when they reached the living room.

People were not expected to arrive for another hour yet, so the house was relatively empty. Marcos, sitting in his favorite chair, put down the newspaper he had been reading, then stood up and moved to the couple, giving both a hug.

"A night of celebration is just what we need," Marcos said rubbing his hands together in expectation of the livelihood ahead. "But first, Xenos, Elena has asked to see you in the kitchen."

"Yes, sir," Remington replied obediently. Turning to give Laura a kiss on the cheek, for which he received another glare, he turned and headed to the kitchen.

"And you and I, Laura," Marcos told her, pronouncing her name 'Lair-uh', "we will take a little walk together. Shall we?" he asked holding out his elbow to her.

Laura smiled, hooking her arm through his. "I'd love to," she answered, sincerely.

Marcos opened the front door then beckoned for her to go before him.

In the kitchen, Remington had his shirt sleeves rolled up and had tied an apron around himself to keep his clothes clean, as he helped Elena prepare the evening's fare. It was in this kitchen with Elena that he had learned his love of cooking, he recalled smiling fondly in her direction. Chores in the household had rotated weekly, so every fourth week while he was here, it was his obligation to help with meal preparation. Male or female, son or daughter, it did not matter to Elena, as she believed they should all know how to cook a proper meal.

Melina worked at a nearby counter, preparing the garlic salad that would be part of the buffet that evening. A cousin, whose name he could not put his finger on just yet, worked nearby Melina, removing the melitinia – cookies the Greek often prepared during times of celebration – from the baking sheets she'd pulled from the oven, moving one cookie at a time to the cooling racks. Elena cast a glance towards Melina. The younger woman, catching her mother's eyes, gave a small nod of acknowledgment. Touching the woman next to her softly on the arm, she indicated with a toss of her head that they were to leave the room.

"Xenos," Elena called his name. Remington looked up with smile in her direction from where he was peeling an endless array of eggplant that would be used in the Moussaka. "Your Laura, she makes you happy.

He grinned crookedly. "When she's not being the most exasperating woman on the planet, yes. And even then, truth be told."

"You love her," Elena observed, keeping her eyes on him as she awaited his response. He nodded thoughtfully, a smile lifting his lips.

"Mmmmm," he acknowledged wordlessly. "She's everything to me."

"Is this, then, the reason we have not seen you for many years?" He glanced up at her, surprised by the question. For more than a decade he'd made it a point to return to Oia and spend a couple of weeks each year with the family. He'd missed them, terribly, during his four-year absence, yet somehow it had never occurred to him that they would miss him as well.

"Yes, I suppose it is. Laura…," he began, then faltered. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, he considered what he wanted to say, phrasing it carefully. "My past has been… difficult… for Laura to come to terms with. An absence of that length would have been cause for both alarm and fear and would have, without a doubt, destroyed any possibility of her ever trusting me."

"She is not part of the life then," Elena noted, in not a question but another statement. He laughed softly.

"Far from it. Laura's as straight and narrow as they come." He saw the look of surprise on the older woman's face. "Believe me, Elena, I'd not planned on her coming into my life. Wasn't prepared for it, at all, as a matter of fact. She was everything I never wanted in a woman: Scrupulously honest, outrageously demanding, strong willed, fiercely independent, obsessed with her work, too intelligent for her own good at times… with a temper that has taken many a man and woman to their knees." He laughed quietly again. "Yet, the day I met her everything…" he searched for the words, then shrugged, "… changed."

"And when was that? When did you meet?" Elena asked. He laughed quietly again.

"We'll be beginning our fifth year together in not too much time. I met her shortly after last I left here."

"You met her in London, then?" Remington shook his head, grinning at her.

"No, in LA. I followed the Lavulite there, had every intention of finally recovering it," he raised an amused brow at Elena, "for a healthy finder's fee, of course. Laura's agency was hired to protect the gems while they were on loan for a showing there. Before I knew it, I was promising I'd not take them until they were no longer in her care," he chuckled.

"You knew, that is why," the older women assessed. He glanced towards Elena briefly, his eyes returning to the eggplant he was slicing momentarily. He considered tap dancing around the truth then dismissed the impulse. He' never been able to lie to Elena – not in act or admission. There was little point I trying to do so now.

"She captivated me from the moment we first met," he nodded, "to that I'll admit."

"You knew," Elena repeated again, resting her eyes on him. To his chagrin, he realized she had him squirming in his shoes, just a she was able to make him do from the time he was a young lad.

"Suspected, perhaps, though I wouldn't admit it to myself for some time. Yet, even then I knew I'd need to truly make a change if I wanted her to be a part of my life. That much I knew I did want, even if it was only for a little while, as I first imagined," he conceded, then laughed at himself. I could never have had her for only a moment. Even now I doubt there will ever be enough time with her.

"When did you know, Xenos?" Elena asked, watching his face last thoughts drifted across it.

"I knew I was in…," he frowned, his hands stilling, as he tried to find the right word to describe his reaction to Creighton Phillips arrival in Laura's life, "… trouble… a couple months in. She made her point well enough and I took heed."

"Her point?" Elena questioned, as she pulled a tray of cookies from the oven, only to replace it with a new batch.

"That she neither concedes nor yields to anyone. It was clear that she wanted to be with me as much as I did her, but she'd not even consider it until I changed my ways. Honesty, no more treating everything as a game to be played… true commitment to our work," he paused, the corner of his mouth tilting up ruefully. "That as long as I continued to… see…. other women, then she was free to do so as well." The knife in his hand stilled, as he looked at Elena in askance when she laughed heartily at his last words.

"As effective today as it was forty-three years ago," Elena told him, nodding knowingly. Remington lay his hands flat on the counter, leaning his weight against them, the look on his face altering from puzzled to stunned.

"You and Marcos?" he asked. Elene nodded.

"He needed to understand that I was tired of waiting for him to grow up. I needed a man with whom to share life, not a boy who needed to be led through it. Your Laura, it seems, was saying the same to you, Xenos," she observed.

"Too smart for her own good, as I said," he agreed. He turned when she approached him and leaned down to her smaller stature when she took his cheeks in her hands.

"I see the change she has brought in you, Xenos. Like Marcos, you've become a man." She brushed his hair back off his forehead, then pulled his head down to buss him on the forehead before releasing him. "The nervous energy is gone. The carousing is gone. There is a peace about you I have not seen in you before. You have purpose."

"All Laura's doing, I assure you," he acknowledged. "She has put herself and all that she has created on the line for me more times than I can count. I've let her down more times than I care to admit, yet she continues to stand by me. Even when I left, she came to find me…" he took a deep breath, as the memory threatened to choke him up, "…to bring me home. No one in my life has ever done that for me."

Elena watched him at length, considering all that he'd said, then reached into her pocket and took out a small, blue, satin bag. Taking Remington's hand, she placed it there, then folded his fingers over it. "Marcos and I want you to have these," she told him, patting his hand. "For our son and the wife who brings you the love we'd always hoped you'd find."

He stilled for a moment, staring at the small bag. Moving across the room to sit on a barstool at the counter, he sat down then opened the bag, dumping the contents into his hand. Two platinum bands, one for a woman and the other for a man, lay there. They were clearly heirlooms, scribed in the center, with a large diamond inlaid on the man's ring and a series of diamonds along the top and bottom of the woman's. He was stunned by the gift, and left nearly speechless, he stumbled over trying to find the words.

"Elena, I can't…"

"Nonsense," Elena interrupted him. "Marcos and I have made our decision."

"Elena, these are clearly family heirlooms."

"They are," she acknowledged with a sharp nod.

"Then I can't accept them."

"Xenos, these rings have been in Marcos' family for nearly two hundred years. They are to be passed down to a family member who finds a great love, a love like those who wore the rings before them," Elena touched Remington's cheek gently before continuing. "You and your Laura, we believe to have that. There is a peace in you, that we both feared you would never find. There is hope in you, where there used to be none. There is love in your heart, where there used to only be loss. Read the inscription in the rings and only if you can then tell me it is not true, will I allow you to return them to me."

Elena turned back to the stove to allow him time to read the inscriptions and to make his choice.

Picking up the man's band first, he searched inside for the inscription. When he found it – Agapi mou, Zoi mou - it took him a moment to translate, but when he had, he simply nodded his head, almost in resignation, then laid it down. The inscription stated the truth of what Laura had been to him, was to him, for nearly four years now. Picking up the woman's ring, he stilled as he examined it. Kismet, were the only words that would come to his dazed mind. Looking inside, he found the same inscription, and could only hope that it held true for Laura as well.

Standing, Remington walked over to Elena and grabbed her in a hug. "Thank you," he told the older woman, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Marcos, what was Reming… Xenos… like when he was here as a boy?" she asked him, as they walked the paved pathways that wended through the cave houses dug into the volcanic rock of the cliffs. Marcos rubbed a hand along the underside of his chin several times before answering.

"Do you know how he came to be with us, Laura?" he asked.

"You found him stowed away on your ship," she answered with a nod. He held out his hand, indicating they should take a path that forked right.

"When I found him, he was terribly ill. There were many a night I lay awake wondering had brought such a young child to be in the state that he was. Terribly thin, not speck of color to his skin. Yet, it was his eyes that haunted me. I can't remember a time before or since that I've ever seen a child that had all but given up – sad, alone, scared… though he tried to hide it. A scrapper even when he could barely stand from the fever and lack of nourishment, for how long only the good Lord knows."

He stopped in front of a small white house, held his hand out to it.

"I brought him home, here at the time. He took to Elena and my children immediately," he continued, taking Laura by the elbow and leading her back towards the direction from which they'd come. "Me? Those eyes watched me warily for weeks after he'd arrived. If I moved too suddenly, he would flinch. It became all too clear that someone had used a quick, hard hand on him before he took to the streets." He shifted his eyes to give Laura a sideways glance, before touching her on the arm, to guide her to turn. "Many nights I dreamed of finding whoever it was that had done that to him and giving to them what they'd given to him. Has he ever told you..." Marcos' voice trailed off on the question. She nodded somberly.

"I know of two. The last 'cousin' with whom he'd lived before running, later the priest at the orphanage where he'd stayed a short while." Marcos' fists clenched and unclenched at the answer.

"A man of the cloth abusing a child in his care. There will be a special place in hell for him, I hope, and it would be my pleasure to send him there," he stated vehemently, his cheeks turning red in his anger. He cleared his throat, then looked at her apologetically. "I'm sorry, Laura, I shouldn't…" She lay her hand on his arm.

"I'm familiar with the sentiment… I've had it a time or two myself," Laura assured him. Marcos patted the hand that lay on his arm and gave her a smile.

"Xenos was with us for a little over a year. After those first weeks, he began to understand that while we had firm expectations of our children, we guided with love, not fear." He stopped walking and turned to face the church in front of him, or so Laura believed at first. "We enrolled him here in school," he nodded to the wing off the right side of church, "and though it was clear his schooling had been… inconsistent… in the past, Elena worked with him in the evenings and he caught up quickly. The boy's mind was a sponge, hungry for knowledge, and soon he was the best student in his class, particularly fond of literature, history. On weekends, of course, he attended Mass with the family at Saint Nicolaus Peramataris. We had him baptized in case it had not been done before and he attended Catechism classes just like our other children." He nodded that they should continue on around the side of the church, the pathway ending at an archway that overlooked the Aegean below. He leaned against the rail, Laura joining him.

"We wanted our children to be well-rounded, Elena and I. It was expected that each would choose an art in which they would be trained, and a physical activity in which to participate. For Melina, it was piano and dance; all three boys played football; and for Xenos? Art. He attended class each Saturday morning and once he began, he'd often disappear for hours at a time. We'd find him here," he told Laura, turning to look at her, "with his sketchbook and pencil or charcoal. It was clear, even then, that he was naturally gifted." She nodded.

"We had a case a couple years back involving a comic strip writer and artist. Rem-… Xenos… drew a series of strips to help frame the murderer. I was… amazed… at how effortless it was for him, yet his work was… Stunning." Marcos' face lit up at her words.

"He still draws then?" She looked at the man, seeing the hope on his face. Lip parted, brows raised, she shook her head in the negative and raised her shoulders.

"Outside of… indulging… himself with the movies he's addicted to," she answered thoughtfully, "I think most of his life has been spent learning and honing the skills he needed for whatever… life… he was leading at the time. Even with me," she admitted. "But just like I take time, where I can find it, to play the piano, dance and run, maybe he needs to be encouraged to take time for something that he seems to have enjoyed as well." The musing took on a life of its own in her mind, and she turned to Marcos, excitement in her eyes. "Marcos, is there a store in the village where I can buy what he'd need?" The older man assessed her for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes, of course," he answered, then with a touch to her arm indicated they should begin walking again. "Laura, what do you know of my son's life after he left us?" She tilted her head, regarded him speculatively.

"You really do think of him as your son, don't you?" she wondered aloud.

"Xenos may not have been born to us, but in the time he was with us, he became the son of our hearts, mine and Elena's," he confirmed. "He broke our hearts when he ran. Elena wept inconsolably for weeks, demanding that I find him, bring him back to us." The older man's eyes misted at the memories, his face contorting with the heartbreak the memory stirred to life. "I've never failed Elena in anything but this. I searched for months, reaching out to every contact I had. But a small boy is too easily lost, gone unnoticed in the shuffle of the world. When no word of his welfare ever reached us, we feared the worst. It was not until he returned to us at twenty, that peace was restored to our hearts." Laura blinked her eyes rapidly at the older man's words, emotions, yet even still wetness slipped past the lashes of an eye. She swept it away forcefully, then took a deep breath through pursed lips before speaking.

"You tried to find him." It was the only words she could manage under the circumstances. Marcos looked at her with unadulterated curiosity.

"He was our son then, our son now. What else were we to do but to try to bring him home?" he asked almost defensively. Laura lay her hand on his arm.

"That's not what I meant," she assured him. "He thought… thinks… no one but I have ever tried to find him and bring him home, for no reason other than his presence. There have been too many people in his life that have only sought him out for what they could get from him. Help on a con, an art heist… for money," she tried to explain. "I thought after he told me about his time here with you, that you might have tried to find him. To know that you did…" She gripped his arm to stop him from walking, then turned into his arms and hugged him tight. "Thank you," she whispered. His arms tightened around her, nodding in response before letting her go. They resumed walking, but only after several strides did he hand her into a little store and direct her towards the back.

"Our Xenos…" Marcos began, then paused to clear his emotion cluttered throat, "… he has told you about us then?"

"You were the first real piece of his past he ever shared with me," she confirmed, as she selected several items from the shelves. "He had given me small, partial answers before that, but more to explain a situation we found ourselves in. But you? The night after a suspect blew up my house, he told me the story of the night your ship exploded out in the harbor. It was you… and him, of course… that helped me make it through that time of my life."

"Me?" he asked, shocked, as they walked to the register.

'Because, Xenos because from now on - everything is new again, eh? Eh? Just *think* of the possibilities.'

"It's what you told him the night your ship exploded, what he told me the night after my house was taken from me," she remembered. "It was those words that carried me through that time, that have carried me through hard times later on. You gave me hope." Purchase paid for they left the store, and based on the direction in which they traveled, walked towards the house.

"Guests will be arriving soon," Marcos confirmed her suspicions. "It would not do to have one of the guests of honor nowhere to be found. Tell me Laura, when did you and our son marry?" She glanced at him, trying to decide how honest to be, then shrugged. This was family. Not that I'd tell my family the truth, she thought. Oh, ho, no.

"We're not really married, at least not according to the letter of the law," she answered. Marcos focused on not the words she spoke, but on the body language of the one speaking them. He remained silent, waiting for her to continue, sensing there was more. She gave her head a small shake, then sighed. "Someone with a grudge turned Mr. …. Xenos… in to Immigration. Unless he married by six p.m. on the day we said our vows, he'd be deported. So, he… manufactured… the blood tests, the license. We hopped on a tuna trawler, went out into international waters, and there you have it."

"Do you love my son, Laura?" Marcos asked, still focusing on the nuances that told the true tale.

"When he's not driving me crazy," she laughed, then sobered, "and even then. He has the best heart of anyone I've ever known. He may not always make the right choices, but they're always guided by the right reasons." He nodded.

"You said your vows before God, yes?" he asked. She acknowledged that they had. "Then in God's eyes you are married, paper or not. What matters now is only this: Are you married in your hearts?" She didn't even have to hesitate to consider her answer before she gave it.

"We are, despite how it came about. But then, I guess it was to be expected and although it is not the story I'd prefer to tell our children one day, if we have any, it is somehow…fitting," she laughed.

"How is it 'fitting'?" he asked with open curiosity.

"How we met, our… romance, our marriage. None of it is has been traditional, the beginning and the end both having to be kept secret," she pondered.

"Why must they remain a secret?" Laura shrugged.

"To tell the truth of how we met would mean revealing he has not always been Remington Steele. In doing so, we would risk exposing his past, and the price for that could be far too high. I'm not willing to risk losing him just to tell a pretty story." He hummed his understanding.

"And the last?" She tilted her head towards him.

"There's nothing that can be done to change the last. It is what it is. What matters is that we're married, and frankly, I don't know that either of us would have ever gotten past ourselves and our fears long enough to admit this is what we wanted all along. In a way, this 'fake' marriage of ours, was a blessing in disguise." She fell silent, stunned by her own admission. She'd never, once, thought about their 'wedding' in that way before, had never even been aware her subconscious clearly had been. They stopped at the front door of the house when Marcos took her elbow, holding her back from opening the door.

"Thank you, Laura," he told her with sincerity. She cocked her head and looked at him confused.

"For what?" He bussed each of her cheeks.

"For loving our son as you do," he answered, pulling her into a bear hug that knocked the breath out of her before he released her, laughing. Opening the door, they entered the house as Remington crossed through the living room, on his way to their bedroom to see if she'd returned. A wide grin lit his face when he saw her.

"Mrs. Steele, I presume?" he teased as he approached her.

"In the flesh," she agreed with an answering smile. "You wouldn't happen to know where my husband is, would you Xenos?"

"Oh, I think if you use your admirable skills as a detective, you might be able to find him," he laughed.

"An excellent suggestion. I think I'll just start in our room…" she answered, raising a brow at him. He followed behind her, watching the sway of her hips, relieved to see that, at least momentarily, he seemed to be off the hook for her sunburned bottom. He closed the door behind him when they entered the room. Laura dropped the bag she carried on the dresser then turned, and pressed herself up on the balls of her feet, wrapping her arms around his neck. With a wide smile, he circled his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

"Your mood certainly seems to have improved," he noted. A hand left his neck and moved to skim through the hair on the side of his head.

"Kiss me," she demanded softly. The smile left his face, replaced with a look of such tenderness that she inhaled softly.

"You should take walks with Marcos more often," he murmured as his lips descended towards hers. Their lips touched, tasted, melded, the kiss never deepening to passion, but was instead fed by emotion. When he at last withdrew, their eyes held. His hand flipped her hair over her shoulder, then stroked the side of her neck.

"Are you ready to go face the masses, Mrs. Steele? I understand there is a celebration of our marriage under way." Grasping the hand at her neck lightly, she smiled up at him.

"I think it's well past time that it be celebrated, don't you?" She brushed her lips against his again, before reluctantly disentangling herself from his arms. With a tug she led him towards the bedroom door.

His eyes caught sight of the bag lying on the dresser on his way past. "What did you pick up in town?" he asked out of mild curiosity.

"Later," was her one-word answer, the bedroom door closing behind them.

By seven, the party was in full-swing at the Androkus home. Laura had been introduced to so many cousins, aunts, uncles, friends and neighbors that her head was spinning. But she managed to keep close the names of two of the most important people in Remington's world here: the two men he considered to be brothers. Zeth, two years Remington's senior, stood nearly a half a foot shorter than he. Built like Marcos, he was wide, burly and dark-haired, and had perhaps the kindest pair of green eyes that Laura had ever seen. A soft-spoken man, he welcomed her warmly to the family, before turning to Remington.

"You cost me a small fortune, Xenos," he admonished. Remington threw back his head and laughed before pulling the man in for a hug. With a slap on Zeth's back, he stepped back to stand next to Laura again.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You bet on the sure thing. Who could have predicted that kismet had other ideas?" he asked, as he slipped his hand around Laura's waist, drawing her partly in front of him. "Where is Calista this evening?" Zeth gave an aggravated sigh.

"Melina ran off with her the minute we arrived, of course. It appears there is gossip other than your marriage that must be attended to."

"And the twins?" Zeth puffed out his chest with pride.

"You've been gone too long, Xenos. There will be six soon. Thankfully, another set of twins is not on the horizon for us this round." Remington chuckled. "They're off with their cousins, getting into trouble I imagine. I'd best go check on them while their mother is otherwise occupied. I'll be back shortly."

Laura glanced up at Remington and mouthed, 'six kids?' He shrugged his shoulders. "They only had the twins the last time I was here." Lifting his drink to his mouth, he took a swallow, choking on it when a hand came down hard on his back. Sputtering, he spun on his heel, tucking Laura behind him, instinctively going into protect mode. When he took in the man that now stood in front of him, he glowered.

"Christos, I believe I've warned you before that such antics will find you taking a swift right one of these days," he mock growled.

"As though I'm afraid of you, big brother," he taunted, grabbing Remington up in a bear hug and kissing him soundly on each cheek. "It's been far too long, Xenos. But, I must say, given the tiding you arrived with, well worth the wait." While Remington had an inch or so on the dark-haired man, Christos was as broad as Remington was slim; whereas Remington was all long, lean muscle, Christos was hulking bulk. Laura wasn't sure who she'd bet on in a fight.

"Betting against me then, were you, Chris?" Remington asked drolly.

"You know me, always going against the tide. Better to win big than lose little. So, are you going to introduce me to your wife, so she can discover who the true catch in this family is?" Remington laughed and shook his head.

"Somehow, I doubt you'd be so bold in saying that if Helen were standing next to you," Remington noted with a raised brow. "Laura, Christos, my ill-manner brother. Christos, my wife, Laura. And don't even try anything with her. She's set down better than you, believe me." Christos grabbed lifted Laura from the ground, hugging her hard, before setting her back down on her feet.

"Tell me, Laura," he said, as he lifted a drink off a passing tray, "how did my scalawag brother manage to convince you to date, let alone marry him?" Laura raised a brow at the man as he took a healthy swig of his drink.

"He was so dull and stuffy I thought I should teach him how to loosen up," she deadpanned with a straight face. This time it was Christos who choked on his drink, looking first at her with a stunned face then Remington. It was only when he saw the corners of Remington's lips quirk that he realized he'd been had. He laughed loudly.

"Not one of Xenos's mindless inamoratas then I see." He blithely ignored Remington's glare. Laura laughed.

"I should hope not."

"Something tells me you gave Xenos a run for his money," he mused.

"Past tense?" she challenged, with another lift of her brow.

"Intend to keep him on his toes then, do you?"

"Somebody has to," she confirmed.

"Sounds to me like you have him well in hand. About time someone did," Christos chuckled.

"I wouldn't go as far as that. Xenos can be very… slippery… when he wishes to be." Remington looked at Laura askance before giving his brother another scowl for good measure.

"I'm standing right here, in case you haven't noticed," he commented drolly. Laura patted her hand, placatingly, against his arm.

"Of course you are, darling" she drawled playfully, looking at him in surprise when she felt him stiffen under her hand, his arm jerking away from her hand. His face remained placid as he looked at Christos.

"Should I ask where Helen is, or is her absence self-explanatory?" Remington asked Christos, changing the subject at hand.

"If you suspect Melina has made away with her, you'd be correct," Christos laughed.

"And the girls?"

"Addy, Bronte, Colette and Eirene are on the terrace with Mama eating dinner. Daph is home with Helen's mom with a bit of a cold."

"I could use a bite to eat myself. Laura?" Remington asked. Carefully blanking her face so that he wouldn't see her confusion about his response to her earlier, she nodded.

"I'm famished," she admitted.

"Let's, then." Laying his hand on the small of her back, he guided her towards the terrace. When they had cleared Christos's hearing, she whispered fiercely to him.

"What was that about back there?" He sighed, knowing he'd been out of line in his reaction. He ducked his head down near her ear as they continued to walk.

"If you'll just accept my apology for now, I'll explain after dinner." She looked at him, saw the strain around his eyes, not understanding why it was there, and nodded.

"You're lucky I'm hungry," she teased, hoping relieve his tension. He grinned down at her.

"For once that appetite is working in my favor instead of against." She lifted her brow.

"And here I thought my appetite for you always worked in your favor," she answered, drawing a tantalizing line down the center of his chest with a finger. He groaned low in his throat in response to her words and touch.

"Not playing fair again, Mrs. Steele?" Laura's lips lifted in an impish grin.

"I believe it was you that I was hoping I'd rid myself of all my 'bloody little inhibitions,' Mr. Steele," she reminded him on a laugh.

"That was before I realized you'd used your considerable… skills… to bedevil me at every turn," he griped playfully.

"Well…." Laura answered, drawing out the word, "… I suppose I could always crawl back into my shell, resist the impulses, tamp down the desire…" She laughed when Remington tugged her to the left side of the veranda, and, arms wrapping around her, tucked them into a somewhat secluded corner.

"Well, when you put it like that," he said gruffly, his lips caressing hers softly, interspersed between his words, "It is my… husbandly duty… to sacrifice… myself… for my wife's… happiness." His mouth settled over hers, deepening the kiss, leaving them both short of breath when they parted. He stared into her passion dazed amber eyes, nearly missing the glint of mischievousness that flashed through them.

"I'll have to remember that," she whispered. He leaned down to kiss her again, then with second thoughts, pulled away.

"This'll do neither of us a bit of good right now," he muttered, wishing it were otherwise. "Let's get some food into you, Mrs. Steele." Grabbing her hand as her laugher trickled across the evening air, he pulled her across the veranda to the buffet.

"If you insist, Mr. Steele." She followed along behind him with a smile on her face.