A Billionaire for Christmas

by Janice Maynard

  He held out a chair for her and then joined her at the table. Phoebe had taken pains with the presentation. Pale green woven place mats and matching napkins from a craft cooperative in Gatlinburg accentuated amber stoneware plates and chunky handblown glass goblets that mingled green and gold in interesting swirls.

  She poured each of them a glass of pinot. “There’s beer in the fridge if you’d prefer it.”

  He tasted the wine. “No. This is good. A local vintage?”

  “Yes. We have several wineries in the area.”

  Their conversation was painfully polite. Almost as awkward as a blind date. Though in this case there was nothing of a romantic nature to worry about. No will he or won’t he when it came time for a possible good-night kiss at the front door.

  Even so, she was on edge. Leo Cavallo’s sexuality gave a woman ideas, even if unintentionally. It had been a very long time since Phoebe had kissed a man, longer still since she had felt the weight of a lover’s body moving against hers in urgent passion. She thought she had safely buried those urges in her subconscious, but with Leo in her house, big and alive and so damned sexy, she was in the midst of an erotic awakening.

  Like a limb that has gone to sleep and then experienced the pain of renewed blood flow, Phoebe’s body tingled with awareness. Watching the muscles in his throat as he swallowed. Inhaling the scent of him, warm male and crisp outdoors. Inadvertently brushing his shoulder as she served him second helpings of chicken and rice. Hearing the lazy tempo of his speech that made her think of hot August nights and damp bodies twined together beneath a summer moon.

  All of her senses were engaged except for taste. And the yearning to do just that, to kiss him, swelled in her chest and made her hands shake. The need was as overwhelming as it was unexpected. She fixated on the curve of his lips as he spoke. They were good lips. Full, but masculine. What would they feel like pressed against hers?

  Imagining the taste of his mouth tightened everything inside her until she felt faint with arousal. Standing abruptly, she put her back to him, busying herself at the sink as she rinsed plates and loaded the dishwasher. Suddenly, she felt him behind her, almost pressing against her.

  “Let me handle cleanup,” he said, the words a warm breath of air at her neck. She froze. Did he sense her jittery nerves, her longing?

  She swallowed, clenching her fingers on the edge of the counter. “No. Thank you. But a fire would be nice.” She was already on fire. But what the heck…in for a penny, in for a pound.

  After long seconds when it seemed as if every molecule of oxygen in the room vaporized, he moved away. “Whatever you want,” he said. “Just ask.”

  * * *

  Leo was neither naive nor oblivious. Phoebe was attracted to him. He knew, because he felt the same inexorable pull. But he had known her for barely a day. Perhaps long enough for an easy pickup at a bar or a one-night stand, but not for a relationship that was going to have to survive for a couple of months.

  With a different woman at another time, he would have taken advantage of the situation. But he was at Phoebe’s mercy for now. One wrong move, and she could boot him out. There were other cabins…other peaceful getaways. None of them, however, had Phoebe. And he was beginning to think that she was his talisman, his lucky charm, the only hope he had of making it through the next weeks without going stark raving mad.

  The fire caught immediately, the dry tinder flaming as it coaxed the heavier logs into the blaze. When he turned around, Phoebe was watching him, her eyes huge.

  He smiled at her. “Come join me on the sofa. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together. We might as well get to know each other.”

  At that very moment, Teddy announced his displeasure with a noisy cry. The relief on Phoebe’s face was almost comical. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  While she was gone, he sat on the hearth, feeling the heat from the fire sink into his back. Beneath his feet a bearskin pelt covered the floor. He was fairly certain it was fake, but the thick, soft fur made him imagine a scenario that was all too real. Phoebe…nude…her skin gilded with firelight.

  The vivid picture in his mind hardened his sex and dried his mouth. Jumping to his feet, he went to the kitchen and poured himself another glass of wine. Sipping it slowly, he tried to rein in his hunger. Something might develop during this time with Phoebe. They could become friends. Or even more than that. But rushing his fences was not the way to go. He had to resist the temptation to bring sex into the picture before she had a chance to trust him.

  Regardless of Phoebe’s desires, or even his own, this was a situation that called for caution. Not his first impulse, or even his last. But if he had any hope of making her his, he’d bide his time.

  His mental gyrations were interrupted by Phoebe’s return. “There you are,” he said. “I wondered if Teddy had kidnapped you.”

  “Poopy diaper,” she said with a grimace. She held the baby on her hip as she prepared a bottle. “He’s starving, poor thing. Slept right through dinner.”

  Leo moved to the sofa and was gratified when Phoebe followed suit. She now held the baby as a barricade between them, but he could wait. The child wasn’t big enough to be much of a problem.

  “So tell me,” he said. “What did you do with yourself before Teddy arrived?”

  Phoebe settled the baby on her lap and held the bottle so he could reach it easily. “I moved in three years ago. At first I was plenty busy with decorating and outfitting both cabins. I took my time and looked for exactly what I wanted. In the meantime, I made a few friends, mostly women I met at the gym. A few who worked in stores where I shopped.”

  “And when the cabins were ready?”

  She stared down at the baby, rubbing his head with a wistful smile on her face. He wondered if she had any clue how revealing her expression was. She adored the little boy. That much was certain.

  “I found someone to help me start a garden,” she said. “Buford is the old man who lives back near the main road where you turned off. He’s a sweetheart. His wife taught me how to bake bread and how to can fruits and vegetables. I know how to make preserves. And I can even churn my own butter in a pinch, though that seems a bit of a stretch in this day and age.”

  He studied her, trying to get to the bottom of what she wasn’t saying. “I understand all that,” he said. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d guess you were a free spirit, hippie-commune, granola-loving Earth Mother. But something doesn’t add up. How did you get from stockbroker to this?”

  * * *

  Phoebe understood his confusion. None of it made sense on paper. But was she willing to expose all of her painful secrets to a man she barely knew? No…not just yet.

  Picking her words carefully, she gave him an answer. Not a lie, but not the whole truth. “I had some disappointments both personally and professionally. They hit me hard…enough to make me reconsider whether the career path I had chosen was the right one. At the time, I didn’t honestly know. So I took a time-out. A step backward. I came here and decided to see if I could make my life simpler. More meaningful.”

  “And now? Any revelations to report?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Are you mocking me?”

  He held up his hands. “No. I swear I’m not. If anything, I have to admire you for being proactive. Most people simply slog away at a job because they don’t have the courage to try something new.”

  “I wish I could say it was like that. But to be honest, it was more a case of crawling in a hole to hide out from the world.”

  “You don’t cut yourself much slack, do you?”

  “I was a mess when I came here.”

  “And now?”

  She thought about it for a moment. No one had ever asked her straight-out if her self-imposed exile had borne fruit. “I think I have a better handle on what I wan
t out of life. And I’ve forgiven myself for mistakes I made. But do I want to go back to that cutthroat lifestyle? No. I don’t.”

  “I know this is a rude question, but I’m going to ask it anyway. What have you done for money since you’ve been out of work?”

  “I’m sure a lot of people wonder that.” She put the baby on her shoulder and burped him. “The truth is, Leo. I’m darned good at making money. I have a lot stashed away. And since I’ve been here, my weekly expenses are fairly modest. So though I can’t stay here forever, I certainly haven’t bankrupted myself.”

  “Would you say your experience has been worth it?”

  She nodded. “Definitely.”

  “Then maybe there’s hope for me after all.”

  * * *

  Phoebe was glad to have Teddy as a buffer. Sitting with Leo in a firelit room on a cold December night was far too cozy. But when Teddy finished his bottle and was ready to play, she had no choice but to get down on the floor with him and let him roll around on the faux bearskin rug. He had mastered flipping from his back to his tummy. Now he enjoyed the increased mobility.

  She was truly shocked when Leo joined them, stretching out on his right side and propping his head on his hand. “How long ’til he crawls?”

  “Anytime now. He’s already learned to get his knees up under him, so I don’t think it will be too many more weeks.” Leo seemed entirely relaxed, while Phoebe was in danger of hyperventilating. Anyone watching them might assume they were a family…mom, dad and baby. But the truth was, they were three separate people who happened to be occupying the same space for the moment.

  Teddy was her nephew, true. But he was on loan, so to speak. She could feed him and play with him and love him, but at the end of the day, he wasn’t hers. Still, what could it hurt to pretend for a while?

  She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Ordinarily, she would have lain down on her stomach and played with Teddy at his level. But getting horizontal with Leo Cavallo was not smart, especially since he was in touching distance. She’d give herself away, no doubt. Even with a baby between them, she couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be to spend an unencumbered hour with her new houseguest.

  Some soft music on the radio, another bottle of wine, more logs on the fire. And after that…

  Her heartbeat stuttered and stumbled. Dampness gathered at the back of her neck and in another, less accessible spot. Her breathing grew shallow. She stared at Teddy blindly, anything to avoid looking at Leo. Not for the world would she want him to think she was so desperate for male company that she would fall at his feet.

  Even as she imagined such a scenario, he rolled to his back and slung an arm across his face. Moments later, she saw the steady rise and fall of his chest as he gave in to sleep.

  Teddy was headed in the same direction. His acrobatics had worn him out. He slumped onto his face, butt in the air, and slept.

  Phoebe watched the two males with a tightness in her chest that was a combination of so many things. Yearning for what might have been. Fear of what was yet to come. Hope that somewhere along the way she could have a family of her own.

  Her sleepless night caught up with her, making her eyelids droop. With one wary look at Leo to make sure he was asleep, she eased down beside her two companions and curled on her side with Teddy in the curve of her body. Now she could smell warm baby and wood smoke, and perhaps the faint scent of Leo’s aftershave.

  Closing her eyes, she sighed deeply. She would rest for a moment….

  Seven

  Leo awoke disoriented. His bed felt rock-hard, and his pillow had fallen on the floor. Gradually, he remembered where he was. Turning his head, he took in the sight of Phoebe and Teddy sleeping peacefully beside him.

  The baby was the picture of innocence, but Phoebe… He sucked in a breath. Her position, curled on her side, made the neckline of her sweater gape, treating him to an intimate view of rounded breasts and creamy skin. Her hair tumbled around her face as if she had just awakened from a night of energetic sex. All he had to do was extend his arm and he could stroke her belly beneath the edge of her top.

  His sex hardened to the point of discomfort. He didn’t know whether to thank God for the presence of the kid or to curse the bad timing. The strength of his desire was both surprising and worrisome. Was he reacting so strongly to Phoebe because he was in exile and she was the only woman around, or had his long bout of celibacy predisposed him to want her?

  Either way, his hunger for her was suspect. It would be the height of selfishness to seduce her because of boredom or propinquity. Already, he had taken her measure. She was loving, generous and kind, though by no means a pushover. Even with training in what some would call a nonfeminine field, she nevertheless seemed completely comfortable with the more traditional roles of childcare and homemaking.

  Phoebe was complicated. That, more than anything else, attracted him. At the moment a tiny frown line marked the space between her brows. He wanted to erase it with a kiss. The faint shadowy smudges beneath her eyes spoke of her exhaustion. He had been around his brother and sister-in-law enough to know that dealing with infants was harrowing and draining on the best of days.

  He also knew that they glowed with pride when it came to their children, and he could see in Phoebe the same self-sacrificial love. Even now, in sleep, her arms surrounded little Teddy, keeping him close though he was unaware.

  Moving carefully so as not to wake them, he rolled to his feet and quietly removed the screen so he could add wood to the smoldering fire. For insurance, he tossed another handful of kindling into the mix and blew on it gently. Small flames danced and writhed as he took a medium-size log and positioned it across the coals.

  The simple task rocked him in an indefinable way. How often did he pause in his daily schedule to enjoy something as elemental and magical as an honest-to-God wood fire? The elegant gas logs in his condo were nothing in comparison.

  As he stared into the hearth, the temperature built. His skin burned, and yet he couldn’t move away. Phoebe seemed to him more like this real fire than any woman he had been with in recent memory. Energetic…messy…mesmerizing. Producing a heat that warmed him down to his bones.

  Most of his liaisons in Atlanta were brief. He spent an enormous amount of time, perhaps more than was warranted, growing and protecting the Cavallo bottom line. Sex was good and a necessary part of his life. But he had never been tempted to do what it took to keep a woman in his bed night after night.

  Kneeling, he turned and looked at Phoebe. Should he wake her up? Did the baby need to be put to bed?

  Uncharacteristically uncertain, he deferred a decision. Snagging a pillow from the sofa, he leaned back against the stone hearth, stretched out his legs and watched them sleep.

  * * *

  Phoebe awoke slowly, but in no way befuddled. Her situation was crystal clear. Like a coward, she kept her eyes closed, even though she knew Leo was watching her. Apparently, her possum act didn’t fool him. He touched her foot with his. “Open your eyes, Phoebe.”

  She felt at a distinct disadvantage. There was no graceful way to get up with him so close. Sighing, she obeyed his command and stared at him with as much chutzpah as she could muster. Rolling onto her back, she tucked her hands behind her head. “Have I brought a voyeur into my home?” she asked with a tart bite in her voice. It would do no good to let him see how much he affected her.

  Leo yawned and stretched, his eyes heavy-lidded. “It’s not my fault you had too much wine at dinner.”

  “I did not,” she said indignantly. “I’m just tired, because the baby—”

  “Gotcha,” he said smugly, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

  She sat up and ran her hands through her hair, crossing her legs but being careful not to bump Teddy. “Very funny. How long was I out?”<
br />
  He shrugged. “Not long.” His hot stare told her more clearly than words what he was thinking. They had rocketed from acquaintances to sleeping partners at warp speed. It was going to be difficult to pretend otherwise.

  Her breasts ached and her mouth was dry. Sexual tension shimmered between them like unseen vines drawing them ever closer. The only thing keeping them apart was a baby.

  A baby who was her responsibility. That reality drew her back from the edge, though the decision to be clearheaded was a painful one. “I think we’ll say good-night,” she muttered. “Feel free to stay up as long as you like. But please bank the fire before you go to bed.”

  His gaze never faltered as she scooped up Teddy and gathered his things. “We have to talk about this,” he said, the blunt words a challenge.

  It took a lot, but she managed to look him straight in the eyes with a calm smile. “I don’t know what you mean. Good night, Leo.”

  * * *

  At two o’clock, he gave up the fight to sleep. He was wired, and his body pulsed with arousal, his sex full and hard. Neither of which condition was conducive to slumber. The New York Times bestseller he had opened failed to hold his attention past the first chapter. Cursing as he climbed out of his warm bed to pace the floor, he stopped suddenly and listened.

  Faintly, but distinctly, he heard a baby cry.

  It was all the excuse he needed. Throwing a thin, gray wool robe over his navy silk sleep pants, he padded into the hall, glad of the thick socks that Hattie had packed for him. Undoubtedly she had imagined him needing them if it snowed and he wore his boots. But they happened to be perfect for a man who wanted to move stealthily about the house.

  In the hallway, he paused, trying to locate his landlady. There was a faint light under her door, but not Teddy’s. The kid cried again, a fretful, middle-of-the-night whimper. Without weighing the consequences, Leo knocked.

  Seconds later, the door opened a crack. Phoebe peered out at him, her expression indiscernible in the gloom. “What’s wrong? What do you want?”