Steele Yourself A Merry Little Christmas
Caroling, Caroling
Part 5 of 8
The limo pulled up in front of Laura’s loft. Steele groaned slightly from the back seat. “Time to climb the heights, eh, Fred?”
“Shall I call and let Miss Holt know we’ve arrived, Sir?” Fred offered sympathetically to his suffering employer.
“A gentleman always calls for a lady at her door, Fred. A brisk walk up the stairs will get the blood moving.” Steele made a half-hearted pumping motion with his arm, smiling weakly.
When he reached the first landing on the way to Laura’s third floor loft, he pulled a cold pill from his pocket. Speaking under his breath to himself, he mumbled, “Don’t care for pills, but if I’m to speak and function clearly tonight, perhaps I need to make an exception to that rule.” With a quick swallow, he dispatched with the pill, pausing with his hands braced on his knees before continuing on his way.
The musical tones of Laura’s voice floated down the stairway. “Mr. Steele?” I’m coming down - just wait there!”
Impossibly small patent slings tapped a light staccato rhythm as their owner descended. How on earth does the woman balance on such insubstantial underpinning? Steele mused briefly.
Laura, as she descended into Steele’s line of sight, was a composition in elegance. The black sheath she had modeled when working undercover for Julian Baron skimmed her slim form. Her hair was now swirled up behind her head. Onyx balanced delicately on her ear lobes and matching orbs played in a line circling her neck. A froth of a wrap of some kind hovered about her shoulders, clearly incapable of providing more than the barest protection from LA’s December chill.
“Mr. Steele?” Laura peered at him with a bit of concern. “Are you all right?”
“A bit overcome, actually. You’ve outdone yourself this evening.” Steele leaned in to kiss her cheek. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you. And even under the weather, Mr. Steele, you do a tux proud. We’ll make this an early evening - have you home and in bed as soon as we’ve assured Mr. Bell that his guests and their valuables are secure.”
“Normally I would find your suggestion worthy of a provocative remark, Miss Holt, but I’m just not up to it this evening.” Steele pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to once more blot his nose, tapping the one protruding jauntily from his pocket at the same moment. “Brought a spare.”
Smiling, Laura placed her hand under Steele’s arm as they walked down the last half flight and stepped into the streetlight lit night together.