Книга - One Night Before Christmas: A Billionaire for Christmas / One Night, Second Chance / It Happened One Night

One Night Before Christmas: A Billionaire for Christmas / One Night, Second Chance / It Happened One Night
Robyn Grady

Kathie DeNosky

Janice Maynard


One Night with the BillionaireBillionaire Leo Cavallo just doesn’t do Christmas. That is, until he meets his neighbour, the irresistible Phoebe Kemper, and a storm forces them to get a whole lot closer… Soon, Leo realises that the only present he wants this year is Phoebe – and not just for Christmas!One Night with the EnemyAfter one, unforgettable night together, publishing mogul Wynn Hunter is shocked to discover that the ravishing temptress is none other than his childhood nemesis, Grace Munroe. Wynn let Grace go once before – and this Christmas, he’s determined to keep her in his arms forever!One Night with the RancherJosh Gordon has no intention of giving in to the business demands of Kiley Roberts, even if he’s never forgotten their explosive night, three years ago. The temptation to mix business and pleasure is undeniable, but will Kiley’s secret drive them apart?







One Night Before Christmas

A Billionaire for Christmas

Janice Maynard

One Night, Second Chance

Robyn Grady

It Happenend One Night

Kathie DeNosky






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover (#uf9ee3521-31c7-58f9-bcbc-d6a83cef211e)

Title Page (#u9d031b22-1509-57fd-9462-77b4446892b9)

A Billionaire for Christmas (#u9cff7d14-1f14-5157-8fc2-b74bd16d7aab)

About the Author (#u4593f4d9-9bd5-5c44-8fb0-9bf110b63015)

Dedication (#ud6c35387-e410-5e5c-ae2e-7353c182f74f)

One (#u2b38b840-7fde-540f-ac92-a237ffdb8dd4)

Two (#u280e7e81-80c0-524f-8bf0-560401fb4c1c)

Three (#u4a7aa6ea-53a9-5226-be3b-2db965db1836)

Four (#u29b9b360-9cc4-5c54-aedd-55a36b347cd2)

Five (#u8ff01779-e606-5cf6-910d-fa41b341b356)

Six (#udebe0b51-64ad-5880-a781-5952e97e3b54)

Seven (#u9e3384cb-e31d-5c92-ba43-59c23a511d29)

Eight (#u78f50a12-6830-5135-a533-88179fa507ba)

Nine (#u16430720-f8a2-508c-9b56-1cbd006eae93)

Ten (#u1ba51064-dc20-55e7-b774-70c252c37383)

Eleven (#u8a838655-bc43-5aea-beaf-9fd6ed67234e)

Twelve (#u72823891-7f74-57f1-a5f1-15e0528399f9)

Thirteen (#uba1b5007-4e95-51a8-b7e2-2a19d1986d41)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

One Night, Second Chance (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue (#litres_trial_promo)

One (#litres_trial_promo)

Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

It Happened One Night (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue (#litres_trial_promo)

One (#litres_trial_promo)

Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)



A Billionaire for Christmas (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)


USA TODAY bestselling author JANICE MAYNARD loved books and writing even as a child. But it took multiple rejections before she sold her first manuscript. Since 2002, she has written over thirty-five books and novellas. Janice lives in east Tennessee with her husband, Charles. They love hiking, travelling and spending time with family.

You can connect with Janice at

www.twitter.com/janicemaynard (http://www.twitter.com/janicemaynard), www.facebook.com/janicemaynardreaderpage (http://www.facebook.com/janicemaynardreaderpage), www.wattpad.com/user/janicemaynard (http://www.wattpad.com/user/janicemaynard), and www.instagram.com/janicemaynard (http://www.instagram.com/janicemaynard).


For my mother, Pat Scott, who loved Christmas as much as anyone I have ever known.


One (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Leo Cavallo had a headache. In fact, his whole body hurt. The drive from Atlanta to the Great Smoky Mountains in East Tennessee hadn’t seemed all that onerous on the map, but he’d gravely miscalculated the reality of negotiating winding rural roads after dark. And given that the calendar had flipped only a handful of days into December, he’d lost daylight a long time ago.

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and groaned as he registered the glowing readout. It was after nine. He still had no idea if he was even close to his destination. The GPS had given up on him ten miles back. The car thermometer read thirty-five degrees, which meant that any moment now the driving rain hammering his windshield might change over to snow, and he’d really be screwed. Jags were not meant to be driven in bad weather.

Sweating beneath his thin cotton sweater, he reached into the console for an antacid. Without warning, his brother’s voice popped into his head, loud and clear.

“I’m serious, Leo. You have to make some changes. You had a heart attack, for God’s sake.”

Leo scowled. “A mild cardiac event. Don’t be so dramatic. I’m in excellent physical shape. You heard the doctor.”

“Yes, I did. He said your stress levels are off the charts. And he preached heredity. Our father died before he hit forty-two. You keep this up, and I’ll be putting you in the ground right beside him...”

Leo chewed the chalky tablet and cursed when the road suddenly changed from ragged pavement to loose gravel. The wheels of his vehicle spun for purchase on the uneven surface. He crept along, straining his eyes for any signs of life up ahead.

On either side, steep hillsides boxed him in. The headlights on his car picked out dense thickets of rhododendron lining the way. Claustrophobic gloom swathed the vehicle in a cloying blanket. He was accustomed to living amidst the bright lights of Atlanta. His penthouse condo offered an amazing view of the city. Neon and energy and people were his daily fuel. So why had he agreed to voluntary exile in a state whose remote corners seemed unwelcoming at best?

Five minutes later, when he was almost ready to turn around and admit defeat, he saw a light shining in the darkness. The relief he felt was staggering. By the time he finally pulled up in front of the blessedly illuminated house, every muscle in his body ached with tension. He hoped the porch light indicated some level of available hospitality.

Pulling his plush-lined leather jacket from the backseat, he stepped out of the car and shivered. The rain had slacked off...finally. But a heavy, fog-wrapped drizzle accompanied by bone-numbing chill greeted him. For the moment, he would leave his bags in the trunk. He didn’t know exactly where his cabin was located. Hopefully, he’d be able to park closer before he unloaded.

Mud caked the soles of his expensive leather shoes as he made his way to the door of the modern log structure. It looked as if it had been assembled from one of those kits that well-heeled couples bought to set up getaway homes in the mountains. Certainly not old, but neatly put together. From what he could tell, it was built on a single level with a porch that wrapped around at least two sides of the house.

There was no doorbell that he could see, so he took hold of the bronze bear-head knocker and rapped it three times, hard enough to express his growing frustration. Additional lights went on inside the house. As he shifted from one foot to the other impatiently, the curtain beside the door twitched and a wide-eyed female face appeared briefly before disappearing as quickly as it had come.

From inside he heard a muffled voice. “Who is it?”

“Leo. Leo Cavallo,” he shouted at the door. Grinding his teeth, he reached for a more conciliatory tone. “May I come in?”

* * *

Phoebe opened her front door with some trepidation. Not because she had anything to fear from the man on the porch. She’d been expecting him for the past several hours. What she dreaded was telling him the truth.

Backing up to let him enter, she winced as he crossed the threshold and sucked all the air out of the room. He was a big man, built like a lumberjack, broad through the shoulders, and tall, topping her five-foot-nine stature by at least four more inches. His thick, wavy chestnut hair gleamed with health. The glow from the fire that crackled in the hearth picked out strands of dark gold.

When he removed his jacket, running a hand through his disheveled hair, she saw that he wore a deep blue sweater along with dark dress pants. The faint whiff of his aftershave mixed with the unmistakable scent of the outdoors. He filled the room with his presence.

Reaching around him gingerly, she flipped on the overhead light, sighing inwardly in relief when the intimacy of firelight gave way to a less cozy atmosphere. Glancing down at his feet, she bit her lip. “Will you please take off your shoes? I cleaned the floors this morning.”

Though he frowned, he complied. Before she could say another word, he gave her home a cursory glance, then settled his sharp gaze on her face. His übermasculine features were put together in a pleasing fashion, but the overall impression was intensely male. Strong nose, noble forehead, chiseled jaw and lips made for kissing a woman. His scowl grew deeper. “I’m tired as hell, and I’m starving. If you could point me to my cabin, I’d like to get settled for the night, Ms....?”

“Kemper. Phoebe Kemper. You can call me Phoebe.” Oh, wow. His voice, low and gravelly, stroked over her frazzled nerves like a lover’s caress. The faint Georgia drawl did nothing to disguise the hint of command. This was a man accustomed to calling the shots.

She swallowed, rubbing damp palms unobtrusively on her thighs. “I have a pot of vegetable beef stew still warm on the stove. Dinner was late tonight.” And every night, it seemed. “You’re welcome to have some. There’s corn bread, as well.”

The aura of disgruntlement he wore faded a bit, replaced by a rueful smile. “That sounds wonderful.”

She waved a hand. “Bathroom’s down the hall, first door on the right. I’ll get everything on the table.”

“And afterward you’ll show me my lodgings?”

Gulp. “Of course.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have insisted that he remove his shoes. There was something about a man in his sock feet that hinted at a level of familiarity. The last thing she needed at this juncture in time was to feel drawn to someone who was most likely going to be furious with her no matter how she tried to spin the facts in a positive light.

He was gone a very short time, but Phoebe had everything ready when he returned. A single place mat, some silverware and a steaming bowl of stew flanked by corn bread and a cheerful yellow gingham napkin. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink,” she said. “I have decaf iced tea, but the weather’s awfully cold tonight.”

“Decaf coffee would be great...if you have it.”

“Of course.” While he sat down and dug into his meal, she brewed a fresh pot of Colombian roast and poured him a cup. He struck her as the kind of man who wouldn’t appreciate his java laced with caramel or anything fancy. Though she offered the appropriate add-ons, Leo Cavallo took his coffee black and unsweetened. No fuss. No nonsense.

Phoebe puttered around, putting things away and loading the dishwasher. Her guest ate with every indication that his previous statement was true. Apparently, he was starving. Two large bowls of stew, three slabs of corn bread and a handful of the snickerdoodles she had made that morning vanished in short order.

As he was finishing his dessert, she excused herself. “I’ll be back in just a moment.” She set the pot on the table. “Help yourself to more coffee.”

* * *

Leo’s mood improved dramatically as he ate. He hadn’t been looking forward to going back down that road to seek out dinner, and though his cabin was supposed to be stocked with groceries, he was not much of a cook. Everything he needed, foodwise, was close at hand in Atlanta. He was spoiled probably. If he wanted sushi at three in the morning or a full breakfast at dawn, he didn’t have to look far.

When he finished the last crumb of the moist, delicious cookies, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up to stretch. After the long drive, his body felt kinked and cramped from sitting in one position for too many hours. Guiltily, he remembered the doctor’s admonition not to push himself. Truthfully, it was the only setting Leo had. Full steam ahead. Don’t look back.

And yet now he was supposed to turn himself into somebody new. Even though he’d been irritated by the many people hovering over him—work colleagues, medical professionals and his family—in his heart, he knew the level of their concern was a testament to how much he had scared them all. One moment he had been standing at the head of a large conference table giving an impassioned pitch to a group of global investors, and the next, he’d been on the floor.

None of the subsequent few minutes were clear in his memory. He recalled not being able to breathe. And an enormous pressure in his chest. But not much more than that. Shaken and disturbed by the recollection of that day, he paced the confines of the open floor plan that incorporated the kitchen and living area into a pleasing whole.

As he walked back and forth, he realized that Phoebe Kemper had created a cozy nest out here in the middle of nowhere. Colorful area rugs cushioned his feet. The floor consisted of wide, honey-colored hardwood planks polished to a high sheen.

Two comfortable groupings of furniture beckoned visitors to sit and enjoy the ambience. Overhead, a three-tiered elk antler chandelier shed a large, warm circle of light. On the far wall, built-in bookshelves flanked the stacked stone fireplace. As he scanned Phoebe’s collection of novels and nonfiction, he realized with a little kick of pleasure that he was actually going to have time to read for a change.

A tiny noise signaled his hostess’s return. Whirling around, he stared at her, finally acknowledging, if only to himself, that his landlady was a knockout. Jet-black hair long enough to reach below her breasts had been tamed into a single thick, smooth braid that hung forward over her shoulder. Tall and slender and long-limbed, there was nothing frail or helpless about Phoebe Kemper. Yet he could imagine many men rushing to her aid, simply to coax a smile from those lush unpainted lips that were the color of pale pink roses.

She wore faded jeans and a silky coral blouse that brought out the warm tones in her skin. With eyes so dark they were almost black, she made him wonder if she claimed Cherokee blood. Some resourceful members of that tribe had hidden deep in these mountains to escape the Trail of Tears.

Her smile was teasing. “Feel better now? At least you don’t look like you want to commit murder anymore.”

He shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry. It was a hell of a day.”

Phoebe’s eyes widened and her smile faded. “And it’s about to get worse, I’m afraid. There’s a problem with your reservation.”

“Impossible,” he said firmly. “My sister-in-law handled all the details. And I have the confirmation info.”

“I’ve been trying to call her all day, but she hasn’t answered. And no one gave me your cell number.”

“Sorry about that. My niece found my sister-in-law’s phone and dropped it into the bathtub. They’ve been scrambling to get it replaced. That’s why you couldn’t reach her. But no worries. I’m here now. And it doesn’t look like you’re overbooked,” he joked.

* * *

Phoebe ignored his levity and frowned. “We had heavy rains and high winds last night. Your cabin was damaged.”

His mood lightened instantly. “Don’t worry about a thing, Ms. Phoebe. I’m not that picky. I’m sure it will be fine.”

She shook her head in disgust. “I guess I’ll have to show you to convince you. Follow me, please.”

“Should I move my car closer to the cabin?” he asked as he put on his shoes and tied them. The bottoms were a mess.

Phoebe scooped up something that looked like a small digital camera and tucked it into her pocket. “No need,” she said. She shrugged into a jacket that could have been a twin to his. “Let’s go.” Out on the porch, she picked up a large, heavy-duty flashlight and turned it on. The intense beam sliced through the darkness.

The weather hadn’t improved. He was glad that Luc and Hattie had insisted on packing for him. They had undoubtedly covered every eventuality if he knew his sister-in-law. Come rain, sleet, snow or hail, he’d be prepared. But for now, everything he’d brought with him was stashed in the trunk of his car. Sighing for the lost opportunity to carry a load, he followed Phoebe.

Though he would never have found it on his own in the inky, fog-blinding night, the path from Phoebe’s cabin to the next closest one was easy to pick out with the flashlight. Far more than a foot trail, the route they followed was clearly an extension of the gravel road.

His impatience grew as he realized they could have driven the few hundred feet. Finally, he dug in his heels. “I should move the car,” he said. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

At that very moment, Phoebe stopped so abruptly he nearly plowed into her. “We’re here,” she said bluntly. “And that is what’s left of your two-month rental.”

The industrial-strength flashlight was more than strong enough to reveal the carnage from the previous night’s storm. An enormous tree lay across the midline of the house at a forty-five-degree angle. The force of the falling trunk had crushed the roof. Even from this vantage point, it was clear that the structure was open to the elements.

“Good Lord.” He glanced behind him instinctively, realizing with sick dismay that Phoebe’s home could have suffered a similar fate. “You must have been scared to death.”

She grimaced. “I’ve had better nights. It happened about 3:00 a.m. The boom woke me up. I didn’t try to go out then, of course. So it was daylight before I realized how bad it was.”

“You haven’t tried to cover the roof?”

She chuckled. “Do I look like Superwoman? I know my own limitations, Mr. Cavallo. I’ve called my insurance company, but needless to say, they’ve been inundated with claims from the storm. Supposedly, an agent will be here tomorrow afternoon, but I’m not holding my breath. Everything inside the house got soaked when the tree fell, because it was raining so hard. The damage was already done. It’s not like I could have helped matters.”

He supposed she had a point. But that still left the issue of where he was expected to stay. Despite his grumblings to Luc and Hattie, now that he was finally here, the idea of kicking back for a while wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Perhaps he could find himself in the great outdoors. Maybe even discover a new appreciation for life, which as he so recently had found out, was both fragile and precious.

Phoebe touched his arm. “If you’ve seen enough, let’s go back. I’m not going to send you out on the road again in this miserable weather. You’re welcome to stay the night with me.”

They reversed their steps as Leo allowed Phoebe to take the lead. The steady beam of light led them without incident back to his car. The porch light was still on, adding to a feeling of welcome. Phoebe waved a hand at the cabin. “Why don’t you go inside and warm up? Your sister-in-law told me you’ve been in the hospital. I’d be happy to bring in your luggage if you tell me what you’ll need.”

Leo’s neck heated with embarrassment and frustration. Damn Hattie and her mother-hen instincts. “I can get my own bags,” he said curtly. “But thank you.” He added that last bit grudgingly. Poor Phoebe had no reason to know that his recent illness was a hot-button issue for him. He was a young man. Being treated like an invalid made him nuts. And for whatever reason, it was especially important to him that the lovely Phoebe see him as a competent, capable male, and not someone she had to babysit.

His mental meanderings must not have lasted as long as he thought, because Phoebe was still at his side when he heard—very distinctly—the cry of a baby. He whirled around, expecting to see that another car had made its way up the narrow road. But he and Phoebe were alone in the night.

A second, less palatable possibility occurred to him. He’d read that a bobcat’s cry could emulate that of an upset infant’s. And the Smoky Mountains were home to any number of those nocturnal animals. Before he could speculate further, the sound came again.

Phoebe shoved the flashlight toward him. “Here. Keep this. I’ve got to go inside.”

He took it automatically, and grinned. “So you’re leaving me out here alone with a scary animal stalking us?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The bobcat. Isn’t that what we’re hearing?”

Phoebe laughed softly, a pleasing sensual sound that made the hair on his arms stand up even more than the odd noise had. “Despite your interesting imagination,” she said with a chuckle, “no.” She reached in her pocket and removed the small electronic device he had noticed earlier. Not a camera, but a monitor. “The noise you hear that sounds like a crying baby is actually a baby. And I’d better get in there fast before all heck breaks loose.”


Two (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Leo stood there gaping at her even after the front door slammed shut. It was only the realization his hands were in danger of frostbite that galvanized him into motion. In short order he found the smaller of the two suitcases he had brought. Slinging the strap across one shoulder, he then reached for his computer briefcase and a small garment bag.

Locking the car against any intruders, human or otherwise, he walked up the steps, let himself in and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Phoebe standing by the fire, a small infant whimpering on her shoulder as she rubbed its back. Leo couldn’t quite sort out his emotions. The scene by the hearth was beautiful. His sister-in-law, Hattie, wore that same look on her face when she cuddled her two little ones.

But a baby meant there was a daddy in the picture somewhere, and though Leo had only met this particular Madonna and child today, he knew the feeling in the pit of his stomach was disappointment. Phoebe didn’t wear a wedding ring, but he could see a resemblance between mother and child. Their noses were identical.

Leo would simply have to ignore this inconvenient attraction, because Phoebe was clearly not available. And though he adored his niece and nephew, he was not the kind of man who went around bouncing kids on his knee and playing patty-cake.

Phoebe looked up and smiled. “This is Teddy. His full name is Theodore, but at almost six months, he hasn’t quite grown into it yet.”

Leo kicked off his shoes for the second time that night and set down his luggage. Padding toward the fire, he mustered a smile. “He’s cute.”

“Not nearly as cute at three in the morning.” Phoebe’s expression as she looked down at the baby was anything but aggravated. She glowed.

“Not a good sleeper?”

She bristled at what she must have heard as implied criticism. “He does wonderfully for his age. Don’t you, my love?” The baby had settled and was sucking his fist. Phoebe nuzzled his neck. “Most evenings he’s out for the count from ten at night until six or seven in the morning. But I think he may be cutting a tooth.”

“Not fun, I’m sure.”

Phoebe switched the baby to her left arm, holding him against her side. “Let me show you the guest room. I don’t think we’ll disturb you even if I have to get up with him during the night.”

He followed her down a short hallway past what was obviously Phoebe’s suite all the way to the back right corner of the house. A chill hit him as soon as they entered the bedroom.

“Sorry,” she said. “The vents have been closed off, but it will warm up quickly.”

He looked around curiously. “This is nice.” A massive king-size bed made of rough timbers dominated the room. Hunter-green draperies covered what might have been a large picture window. The attached bathroom, decorated in shades of sand and beige, included a Jacuzzi tub and a roomy shower stall. Except for the tiled floor in the bathroom, the rest of the space boasted the same attractive hardwood he’d seen in the remainder of the house, covered here and there by colorful rugs.

Phoebe hovered, the baby now asleep. “Make yourself at home. If you’re interested in staying in the area, I can help you make some calls in the morning.”

Leo frowned. “I paid a hefty deposit. I’m not interested in staying anywhere else.”

A trace of pique flitted across Phoebe’s face, but she answered him calmly. “I’ll refund your money, of course. You saw the cabin. It’s unlivable. Even with a speedy insurance settlement, finding people to do the work will probably be difficult. I can’t even guesstimate how long it will be before everything is fixed.”

Leo thought about the long drive from Atlanta. He hadn’t wanted to come here at all. And yesterday’s storm damage was his ticket out. All he had to do was tell Luc and Hattie, and his doctor, that circumstances had conspired against him. He could be back in Atlanta by tomorrow night.

But something—stubbornness maybe—made him contrary. “Where is Mr. Kemper in all this? Shouldn’t he be the one worrying about repairing the other cabin?”

Phoebe’s face went blank. “Mr. Kemper?” Suddenly, she laughed. “I’m not married, Mr. Cavallo.”

“And the baby?”

A small frown line appeared between her brows. “Are you a traditionalist, then? You don’t think a single female can raise a child on her own?”

Leo shrugged. “I think kids deserve two parents. But having said that, I do believe women can do anything they like. I can’t, however, imagine a woman like you needing to embrace single parenthood.”

He’d pegged Phoebe as calm and cool, but her eyes flashed. “A woman like me? What does that mean?”

Leaning his back against one of the massive bedposts, he folded his arms and stared at her. Now that he knew she wasn’t married, all bets were off. “You’re stunning. Are all the men in Tennessee blind?”

Her lips twitched. “I’m pretty sure that’s the most clichéd line I’ve ever heard.”

“I stand by my question. You’re living out here in the middle of nowhere. Your little son has no daddy anywhere in sight. A man has to wonder.”

Phoebe stared at him, long and hard. He bore her scrutiny patiently, realizing how little they knew of each other. But for yesterday’s storm, he and Phoebe would likely have exchanged no more than pleasantries when she handed over his keys. In the weeks to come, they might occasionally have seen each other outside on pleasant days, perhaps waved in passing.

But fate had intervened. Leo came from a long line of Italian ancestors who believed in the power of destino and amore. Since he was momentarily banned from the job that usually filled most of his waking hours, he was willing to explore his fascination with Phoebe Kemper.

He watched as she deposited the sleeping baby carefully in the center of the bed. The little boy rolled to his side and continued to snooze undisturbed. Phoebe straightened and matched her pose to Leo’s. Only instead of using the bed for support, she chose to lean against the massive wardrobe that likely held a very modern home entertainment center.

She eyed him warily, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip. Finally she sighed. “First of all, we’re not in the middle of nowhere, though it must seem that way to you since you had to drive up here on such a nasty night. Gatlinburg is less than ten miles away. Pigeon Forge closer than that. We have grocery stores and gas stations and all the modern conveniences, I promise. I like it here at the foot of the mountains. It’s peaceful.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“And Teddy is my nephew, not my son.”

Leo straightened, wondering what it said about him that he was glad the woman facing him was a free agent. “Why is he here?”

“My sister and her husband are in Portugal for six weeks settling his father’s estate. They decided the trip would be too hard on Teddy, and that cleaning out the house would be much easier without him. So I volunteered to let him stay with me until they get home.”

“You must like kids a lot.”

A shadow crossed her face. “I love my nephew.” She shook off whatever mood had momentarily stolen the light. “But we’re avoiding the important topic. I can’t rent you a demolished cabin. You have to go.”

He smiled at her with every bit of charm he could muster. “You can rent me this room.”

* * *

Phoebe had to give Leo Cavallo points for persistence. His deep brown eyes were deceptive. Though a woman could sink into their warmth, she might miss entirely the fact that he was a man who got what he wanted. If he had been ill recently, she could find no sign of it in his appearance. His naturally golden skin, along with his name, told her that he possessed Mediterranean genes. And in Leo’s case, that genetic material had been spun into a ruggedly handsome man.

“This isn’t a B and B,” she said. “I have an investment property that I rent out to strangers. That property is currently unavailable, so you’re out of luck.”

“Don’t make a hasty decision,” he drawled. “I’m housebroken. And I’m handy when it comes to changing lightbulbs and killing creepy-crawlies.”

“I’m tall for a woman, and I have monthly pest control service.”

“Taking care of a baby is a lot of work. You might enjoy having help.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to change diapers.”

“Touché.”

Were they at an impasse? Would he give up?

She glanced at Teddy, sleeping so peacefully. Babies were an important part of life, but it was a sad day when a grown woman’s life was so devoid of male companionship that a nonverbal infant was stimulating company. “I’ll make a deal with you,” she said slowly, wondering if she were crazy. “You tell me why you really want to stay, and I’ll consider your request.”

For the first time, she saw discomfort on Leo’s face. He was one of those consummately confident men who strode through life like a captain on the bridge of his ship, everyone in his life bowing and scraping in his wake. But at the moment, a mask slipped and she caught a glimpse of vulnerability. “What did my sister-in-law tell you when she made the reservation?”

A standard ploy. Answering a question with a question. “She said you’d been ill. Nothing more than that. But in all honesty, you hardly look like a man at death’s door.”

Leo’s smile held a note of self-mockery. “Thank God for that.”

Curiouser and curiouser. “Now that I think about it,” she said, trying to solve the puzzle as she went along, “you don’t seem like the kind of man who takes a two-month sabbatical in the mountains for any reason. Unless, of course, you’re an artist or a songwriter. Maybe a novelist? Am I getting warm?”

Leo grimaced, not quite meeting her gaze. “I needed a break,” he said. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

Something in his voice touched her...some note of discouragement or distress. And in that moment, she felt a kinship with Leo Cavallo. Hadn’t she embraced this land and built these two cabins for that very reason? She’d been disillusioned with her job and heartbroken over the demise of her personal life. The mountains had offered healing.

“Okay,” she said, capitulating without further ado. “You can stay. But if you get on my nerves or drive me crazy, I am well within my rights to kick you out.”

He grinned, his expression lightening. “Sounds fair.”

“And I charge a thousand dollars a week more if you expect to share meals with me.”

It was a reckless barb, an attempt to get a rise out of him. But Leo merely nodded his head, eyes dancing. “Whatever you say.” Then he sobered. “Thank you, Phoebe. I appreciate your hospitality.”

The baby stirred, breaking the odd bubble of intimacy that had enclosed the room. Phoebe scooped up little Teddy and held him to her chest, suddenly feeling the need for a barrier between herself and the charismatic Leo Cavallo. “We’ll say good night, then.”

Her houseguest nodded, eyes hooded as he stared at the baby. “Sleep well. And if you hear me up in the night, don’t be alarmed. I’ve had a bit of insomnia recently.”

“I could fix you some warm milk,” she said, moving toward the door.

“I’ll be fine. See you in the morning.”

* * *

Leo watched her leave and felt a pinch of remorse for having pressured her into letting him invade her home. But not so much that he was willing to leave. In Atlanta everyone had walked on eggshells around him, acting as if the slightest raised voice or cross word would send him into a relapse. Though his brother, Luc, tried to hide his concern, it was clear that he and Hattie were worried about Leo. And as dear as they both were to him, Leo needed a little space to come to terms with what had happened.

His first instinct was to dive back into work. But the doctor had flatly refused to release him. This mountain getaway was a compromise. Not an idea Leo would have embraced voluntarily, but given the options, his only real choice.

When he exited the interstate earlier that evening, Leo had called his brother to say he was almost at his destination. Though he needed to escape the suffocating but well-meaning attention, he would never ever cause Luc and Hattie to worry unnecessarily. He would do anything for his younger brother, and he knew Luc would return the favor. They were closer than most siblings, having survived their late teen and early-adult years in a foreign land under the thumb of their autocratic Italian grandfather.

Leo yawned and stretched, suddenly exhausted. Perhaps he was paying for years of burning the candle at both ends. His medical team and his family had insisted that for a full recovery, Leo needed to stay away from work and stress. Maybe the recent hospital stay had affected him more than he realized. But whatever the reason, he was bone tired and ready to climb into that large rustic bed.

Too bad he’d be sleeping alone. It was oddly comforting when his body reacted predictably to thoughts of Phoebe. Something about her slow, steady smile and her understated sexuality really did it for him. Though his doctor had cleared Leo for exercise and sexual activity, the latter was a moot point. Trying to ignore the erection that wouldn’t be seeing any action tonight, he reached for his suitcase, extracted his shaving kit and headed for the shower.

* * *

To Phoebe’s relief, the baby didn’t stir when she laid him in his crib. She stood over him for long moments watching the almost imperceptible movements of his small body as he breathed. She knew her sister was missing Teddy like crazy, but selfishly, Phoebe herself was looking forward to having someone to share Christmas with.

Her stomach did a little flip as she realized that Leo might be here, as well. But no. Surely he would go home at the holidays and come back to finish out his stay in January.

When she received the initial reservation request, she had researched Leo and the Cavallo family on Google. She knew he was single, rich and the CFO of a worldwide textile company started by his grandfather in Italy. She also knew that he supported several charities, not only with money, but with his service. He didn’t need to work. The Cavallo vaults, metaphorically speaking, held more money than any one person could spend in a lifetime. But she understood men like Leo all too well. They thrived on challenge, pitting themselves repeatedly against adversaries, both in business and in life.

Taking Leo into her home was not a physical risk. He was a gentleman, and she knew far more about him than she did about many men she had dated. The only thing that gave her pause was an instinct that told her he needed help in some way. She didn’t need another responsibility. And besides, if the cabin hadn’t been demolished, Leo would have been on his own for two months anyway.

There was no reason for her to be concerned. Nevertheless, she sensed pain in him, and confusion. Given her own experience with being knocked flat on her butt for a long, long time, she wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone. Maybe she could probe gently and see why this big mountain of a man, who could probably bench-press more than his body weight, seemed lost.

As she prepared for bed, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. And when she climbed beneath her flannel sheets and closed her eyes, his face was the image that stayed with her through the night.


Three (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Leo awoke when sunlight shining through a crack in the drapes hit his face. He yawned and scrubbed his hands over his stubbly chin, realizing with pleased surprise that he had slept through the night. Perhaps there was something to this mountain retreat thing after all.

Most of his stuff was still in the car, so he dug out a pair of faded jeans from his overnight case and threw on his favorite warm cashmere sweater. It was a Cavallo product...of course. The cabin had an efficient heat system, but Leo was itching to get outside and see his surroundings in the light of day.

Tiptoeing down the hall in case the baby was sleeping, he paused unconsciously at Phoebe’s door, which stood ajar. Through the narrow crack he could see a lump under the covers of a very disheveled bed. Poor woman. The baby must have kept her up during the night.

Resisting the urge to linger, he made his way to the kitchen and quietly located the coffeepot. Phoebe was an organized sort, so it was no problem to find what he needed in the cabinet above. When he had a steaming cup brewed, strong and black, he grabbed a banana off the counter and went to stand at the living room window.

Supposedly, one of his challenges was to acquire the habit of eating breakfast in the morning. Normally, he had neither the time nor the inclination to eat. As a rule, he’d be at the gym by six-thirty and at the office before eight. After that, his day was nonstop until seven or later at night.

He’d never really thought much about his schedule in the past. It suited him, and it got the job done. For a man in his prime, stopping to smell the roses was a metaphor for growing old. Now that he had been admonished to do just that, he was disgruntled and frustrated. He was thirty-six, for God’s sake. Was it really time to throw in the towel?

Pulling back the chintz curtains decorated with gamboling black bears, he stared out at a world that glistened like diamonds in the sharp winter sun. Every branch and leaf was coated with ice. Evidently, the temperatures had dropped as promised, and now the narrow valley where Phoebe made her home was a frozen wonderland.

So much for his desire to explore. Anyone foolish enough to go out at this moment would end up flat on his or her back after the first step. Patience, Leo. Patience. His doctor, who also happened to be his racquetball partner on the weekends, had counseled him repeatedly to take it easy, but Leo wasn’t sure he could adapt. Already, he felt itchy, needing a project to tackle, a problem to solve.

“You’re up early.”

Phoebe’s voice startled him so badly he spun around and managed to slosh hot coffee over the fingers of his right hand. “Ouch, damn it.”

He saw her wince as he crossed to the sink and ran cold water over his stinging skin.

“Sorry,” she said. “I thought you heard me.”

Leo had been lost in thought, but he was plenty alert now. Phoebe wore simple knit pj’s that clung to her body in all the right places. The opaque, waffle-weave fabric was pale pink with darker pink rosebuds. It faithfully outlined firm high breasts, a rounded ass and long, long legs.

Despite his single-minded libido, he realized in an instant that she looked somewhat the worse for wear. Her long braid had frayed into wispy tendrils and dark smudges underscored her eyes.

“Tough night with the baby?” he asked.

She shook her head, yawning and reaching for a mug in the cabinet. When she did, her top rode up, exposing an inch or two of smooth golden skin. He looked away, feeling like a voyeur, though the image was impossible to erase from his brain.

After pouring herself coffee and taking a long sip, Phoebe sank into a leather-covered recliner and pulled an afghan over her lap. “It wasn’t the baby this time,” she muttered. “It was me. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about what a headache this reconstruction is going to be, especially keeping track of all the subcontractors.”

“I could pitch in with that,” he said. The words popped out of his mouth, uncensored. Apparently old habits were hard to break. But after all, wasn’t helping out a fellow human being at least as important as inhaling the scent of some imaginary rose that surely wouldn’t bloom in the dead of winter anyway? Fortunately, his sister-in-law wasn’t around to chastise him for his impertinence. She had, in her sweet way, given him a very earnest lecture about the importance of not making work his entire life.

Of course, Hattie was married to Luc, who had miraculously managed to find a balance between enjoying his wife and his growing family and at the same time carrying his weight overseeing the R & D department. Luc’s innovations, both in fabric content and in design, had kept their company competitive in the changing world of the twenty-first century. Worldwide designers wanted Cavallo textiles for their best and most expensive lines.

Leo was happy to oblige them. For a price.

Phoebe sighed loudly, her expression glum. “I couldn’t ask that of you. It’s my problem, and besides, you’re on vacation.”

“Not a vacation exactly,” he clarified. “More like an involuntary time-out.”

She grinned. “Has Leo been a naughty boy?”

Heat pooled in his groin and he felt his cheeks redden. He really had to get a handle on this urge to kiss her senseless. Since he was fairly sure that her taunt was nothing more than fun repartee, he refrained from saying what he really thought. “Not naughty,” he clarified. “More like too much work and not enough play.”

Phoebe swung her legs over the arm of the chair, her coffee mug resting on her stomach. For the first time he noticed that she wore large, pink Hello Kitty slippers on her feet. A less seductive female ensemble would be difficult to find. And yet Leo was fascinated.

She pursed her lips. “I’m guessing executive-level burnout?”

Her perspicacity was spot-on. “You could say that.” Although it wasn’t the whole story. “I’m doing penance here in the woods, so I can see the error of my ways.”

“And who talked you into this getaway? You don’t seem like a man who lets other people dictate his schedule.”

He refilled his cup and sat down across from her. “True enough,” he conceded. “But my baby brother, who happens to be part of a disgustingly happy married couple, thinks I need a break.”

“And you listened?”

“Reluctantly.”

She studied his face as though trying to sift through his half-truths. “What did you think you would do for two months?”

“That remains to be seen. I have a large collection of detective novels packed in the backseat of my car, a year of New York Times crossword puzzles on my iPad and a brand-new digital camera not even out of the box yet.”

“I’m impressed.”

“But you’ll concede that I surely have time to interview prospective handymen.”

“Why would you want to?”

“I like keeping busy.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here? To be not busy? I’d hate to think I was causing you to fall off the wagon in the first week.”

“Believe me, Phoebe. Juggling schedules and workmen for your cabin repair is something I could do in my sleep. And since it’s not my cabin, there’s no stress involved.”

Still not convinced, she frowned. “If it weren’t for the baby, I’d never consider this.”

“Understood.”

“And if you get tired of dealing with it, you’ll be honest.”

He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“In that case,” she sighed, “how can I say no?”

* * *

Leo experienced a rush of jubilation far exceeding the appropriate response to Phoebe’s consent. Only at that moment did he realize how much he had been dreading the long parade of unstructured days. With the cabin renovation to give him focus each morning, perhaps this rehabilitative exile wouldn’t be so bad.

Guiltily, he wondered what his brother would say about this new turn of events. Leo was pretty sure Luc pictured him sitting by a fire in a flannel robe and slippers reading a John Grisham novel. While Leo enjoyed fiction on occasion, and though Grisham was a phenomenal author, a man could only read so many hours of the day without going bonkers.

Already, the idleness enforced by his recent illness had made the days and nights far too long. The doctor had cleared him for his usual exercise routine, but with no gym nearby, and sporting equipment that was useless in this environment, it was going to require ingenuity on his part to stay fit and active, especially given that it was winter.

Suddenly, from down the hall echoed the distinct sound of a baby who was awake and unhappy.

Phoebe jumped to her feet, nearly spilling her coffee in the process. “Oh, shoot. I forgot to bring the monitor in here.” She clunked her mug in the sink and disappeared in a flash of pink fur.

Leo had barely drained his first cup and gone to the coffeepot for a refill when Phoebe reappeared, this time with baby Teddy on her hip. The little one was red-faced from crying. Phoebe smoothed his hair from his forehead. “Poor thing must be so confused not seeing his mom and dad every morning when he wakes up.”

“But he knows you, right?”

Phoebe sighed. “He does. Still, I worry about him day and night. I’ve never been the sole caregiver for a baby, and it’s scary as heck.”

“I’d say you’re doing an excellent job. He looks healthy and happy.”

Phoebe grimaced, though the little worried frown between her eyes disappeared. “I hope you’re right.”

She held Teddy out at arm’s length. “Do you mind giving him his bottle while I shower and get dressed?”

Leo backed up half a step before he caught himself. It was his turn to frown. “I don’t think either Teddy or I would like that. I’m too big. I scare children.”

Phoebe gaped. Then her eyes flashed. “That’s absurd. Wasn’t it you, just last night, who was volunteering to help with the baby in return for your keep?”

Leo shrugged, feeling guilty but determined not to show it. “I was thinking more in terms of carrying dirty diapers out to the trash. Or if you’re talking on the phone, listening to the monitor to let you know when he wakes up. My hands are too large and clumsy to do little baby things.”

“You’ve never been around an infant?”

“My brother has two small children, a boy and a girl. I see them several times a month, but those visits are more about kissing cheeks and spouting kudos as to how much they’ve grown. I might even bounce one on my knee if necessary, but not often. Not everyone is good with babies.”

Little Teddy still dangled in midair, his chubby legs kicking restlessly. Phoebe closed the distance between herself and Leo and forced the wiggly child to Leo’s chest. “Well, you’re going to learn, because we had a deal.”

Leo’s arms came up reflexively, enclosing Teddy in a firm grip. The wee body was warm and solid. The kid smelled of baby lotion and some indefinable nursery scent that was endemic to babies everywhere. “I thought becoming your renovation overseer got me off the hook with Teddy.”

Phoebe crossed her arms over her chest, managing to emphasize the fullness of her apparently unconfined breasts. “It. Did. Not. A deal is a deal. Or do I need a written contract?”

Leo knew when he was beaten. He’d pegged Phoebe as an easygoing, Earth Mother type, but suddenly he was confronted with a steely-eyed negotiator who would as soon kick him to the curb as look at him. “I’d raise my hands in surrender if I were able,” he said, smiling, “But I doubt your nephew would like it.”

Phoebe’s nonverbal response sounded a lot like humph. As Leo watched, grinning inwardly, she quickly prepared a serving of formula and brought it to the sofa where Leo sat with Teddy. She handed over the bottle. “He likes it sitting up. Burp him halfway through.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Phoebe put her hands on her hips. “Don’t mock me. You’re walking on thin ice, mister.”

Leo tried to look penitent, and also tried not to take note of the fact that her pert nipples were at eye level. He cleared his throat. “Go take your shower,” he said. “I’ve got this under control. You can trust me.”

Phoebe nibbled her bottom lip. “Yell at my bedroom door if you need me.”

Something about the juxtaposition of yell and bedroom door and need rekindled Leo’s simmering libido. About the only thing that could have slowed him down was the reality of a third person in the cabin. Teddy. Little innocent, about-to-get-really-hungry Teddy.

“Go,” Leo said, taking the bottle and offering it to the child in his lap. “We’re fine.”

As Phoebe left the room, Leo scooted Teddy to a more comfortable position, tucking the baby in his left arm so he could offer the bottle with his right hand. It was clear that the kid was almost capable of feeding himself. But if he dropped the bottle, he would be helpless.

Leo leaned back on the comfy couch and put his feet on the matching ottoman, feeling the warmth and weight of the child, who rested so comfortably in his embrace. Teddy seemed content to hang out with a stranger. Presumably as long as the food kept coming, the tyke would be happy. He did not, however, approve when Leo withdrew the bottle for a few moments and put him on his shoulder to burp him.

Despite Teddy’s pique, the new position coaxed the desired result. Afterward, Leo managed to help the kid finish the last of his breakfast. When Teddy sucked on nothing but air, Leo set aside the bottle and picked up a small, round teething ring from the end table flanking the sofa. Teddy chomped down on it with alacrity, giving Leo the opportunity to examine his surroundings in detail.

He liked the way Phoebe had furnished the place. The cabin had a cozy feel that still managed to seem sophisticated and modern. The appliances and furniture were top-of-the-line, built to last for many years, and no doubt expensive because of that. The flooring was high-end, as well.

The pale amber granite countertops showcased what looked to be handcrafted cabinetry done in honey maple. He saw touches of Phoebe’s personality in the beautiful green-and-gold glazed canister set and in the picture of Phoebe, her sister and Teddy tacked to the front of the fridge with a magnet.

Leo looked down at Teddy. The boy’s big blue eyes stared up at him gravely as if to say, What’s your game? Leo chuckled. “Your auntie Phoebe is one beautiful woman, my little man. Don’t get me in trouble with her and you and I will get along just fine.”

Teddy’s gaze shifted back to his tiny hands covered in drool.

Leo was not so easily entertained. He felt the pull of Atlanta, of wondering what was going on at work, of needing to feel in control...at the helm. But something about cuddling a warm baby helped to freeze time. As though any considerations outside of this particular moment were less than urgent.

As he’d told Phoebe, he wasn’t a complete novice when it came to being around kids. Luc and Hattie adopted Hattie’s niece after they married last year. The little girl was almost two years old now. And last Valentine’s Day, Hattie gave birth to the first “blood” Cavallo of the new generation, a dark-haired, dark-eyed little boy.

Leo appreciated children. They were the world’s most concrete promise that the globe would keep on spinning. But in truth, he had no real desire to father any of his own. His lifestyle was complicated, regimented, full. Children deserved a healthy measure of their parents’ love and attention. The Cavallo empire was Leo’s baby. He knew on any given day what the financial bottom line was. During hard financial times, he wrestled the beast that was their investment and sales strategy and demanded returns instead of losses.

He was aware that some people called him hard...unfeeling. But he did what he did knowing how many employees around the world depended on the Cavallos for their livelihoods. It irked the hell out of him to think that another man was temporarily sitting in his metaphorical chair. The vice president Luc had chosen to keep tabs on the money in Leo’s absence was solid and capable.

But that didn’t make Leo feel any less sidelined.

He glanced at his watch. God in heaven. It was only ten-thirty in the morning. How was he going to survive being on the back burner for two months? Did he even want to try becoming the man his family thought he could be? A balanced, laid-back, easygoing guy?

He rested his free arm across the back of the sofa and closed his eyes, reaching for something Zen. Something peaceful.

Damn it, he didn’t want to change. He wanted to go home. At least he had until he met Phoebe. Now he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

Hoping that the boy wasn’t picking up on his frustration and malcontent thoughts, Leo focused on the only thing capable of diverting him from his problems. Phoebe. Tall, long-legged Phoebe. A dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty with an attitude.

If Phoebe could be lured into an intimate relationship, then this whole recuperative escape from reality had definite possibilities. Leo sensed a spark between them. And he was seldom wrong about things like that. When a man had money, power and reasonably good looks, the female sex swarmed like mosquitoes. That wasn’t ego speaking. Merely the truth.

As young men in Italy, he and Luc had racked up a number of conquests until they realized the emptiness of being wanted for superficial reasons. Luc had finally found his soul mate in college. But things hadn’t worked out, and it had been ten years before he achieved happiness with the same woman.

Leo had never even made it that far. Not once in his life had he met a female who really cared about who he was as a person. Would-be “Mrs. Cavallos” saw the external trappings of wealth and authority and wanted wedding rings. And the real women, the uncomplicated, good-hearted ones, steered clear of men like Leo for fear of having their hearts broken.

He wasn’t sure which category might include Phoebe Kemper. But he was willing to find out.


Four (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Phoebe took her time showering, drying her hair and dressing. If Leo wasn’t going to live up to his end of the bargain, she wanted to know it now. Leaving Teddy in his temporary care was no risk while she enjoyed a brief respite from the demands of surrogate parenthood. Despite Leo’s protestations to the contrary, he was a man who could handle difficult situations.

It was hard to imagine that he had been ill. He seemed impervious to the things that lesser mortals faced. She envied him his confidence. Hers had taken a serious knock three years ago, and she wasn’t sure if she had ever truly regained it. A younger Phoebe had taken the world by storm, never doubting her own ability to craft outcomes to her satisfaction.

But she had paid dearly for her hubris. Her entire world had crumbled. Afterward, she had chosen to hide from life, and only in the past few months had she finally begun to understand who she was and what she wanted. The lessons had been painful and slow in coming.

Unfortunately, her awakening had also made her face her own cowardice. Once upon a time she had taken great pleasure in blazing trails where no other women had gone. Back then, she would have seen a man like Leo as a challenge, both in business and in her personal life.

Smart and confident, she had cruised through life, never realizing that on any given day, she—like any other human being—was subject to the whims of fate. Her perfect life had disintegrated in the way of a comet shattering into a million pieces.

Things would never be as they were. But could they be equally good in another very different way?

She took more care in dressing than she did normally. Instead of jeans, she pulled out a pair of cream corduroy pants and paired them with a cheery red scoop-necked sweater. Christmas was on the way, and the color always lifted her mood.

Wryly acknowledging her vanity, she left her hair loose on her shoulders. It was thick and straight as a plumb line. With the baby demanding much of her time, a braid was easier. Nevertheless, today she wanted to look nice for her guest.

When she finally returned to the living room, Teddy was asleep on Leo’s chest, and Leo’s eyes were closed, as well. She lingered for a moment in the doorway, enjoying the picture they made. The big, strong man and the tiny, defenseless baby.

Her chest hurt. She rubbed it absently, wondering if she would always grieve for what she had lost. Sequestering herself like a nun the past few years had given her a sort of numb peace. But that peace was an illusion, because it was the product of not living.

Living hurt. If Phoebe were ever going to rejoin the human race, she would have to accept being vulnerable. The thought was terrifying. The flip side of great love and joy was immense pain. She wasn’t sure the first was worth risking the prospect of the last.

Quietly she approached the sofa and laid a hand on Leo’s arm. His eyes opened at once as if he had perhaps only been lost in thought rather than dozing. She held out her arms for the baby, but Leo shook his head.

“Show me where to take him,” he whispered. “No point in waking him up.”

She led the way through her bedroom and bathroom to a much smaller bedroom that adjoined on the opposite side. Before Teddy’s arrival she had used this space as a junk room, filled with the things she was too dispirited to sort through when she’d moved in.

Now it had been tamed somewhat, so that half the room was full of neatly stacked plastic tubs, while the other half had been quickly transformed into a comfy space for Teddy. A baby bed, rocking chair and changing table, all with matching prints, made an appealing, albeit temporary, nursery.

Leo bent over the crib and laid Teddy gently on his back. The little boy immediately rolled to his side and stuck a thumb in his mouth. Both adults smiled. Phoebe clicked on the monitor and motioned for Leo to follow her as they tiptoed out.

In the living room, she waved an arm. “Relax. Do whatever you like. There’s plenty of wood if you feel up to building us a fire.”

“I told you. I’m not sick.”

The terse words had a bite to them. Phoebe flinched inwardly, but kept her composure. Something had happened to Leo. Something serious. Cancer maybe. But she was not privy to that information. So conversation regarding the subject was akin to navigating a minefield.

Most men were terrible patients. Usually because their health and vigor were tied to their self-esteem. Clearly, Leo had been sent here or had agreed to come here because he needed rest and relaxation. He didn’t want Phoebe hovering or commenting on his situation. Okay. Fine. But she was still going to keep an eye on him, because whatever had given him a wallop was serious enough to warrant a two-month hiatus from work.

That in itself was telling. In her past life, she had interacted with lots of men like Leo. They were alpha animals, content only with the number one spot in the pack. Their work was their life. And even if they married, familial relationships were kept in neatly separated boxes.

Unfortunately for Phoebe, she possessed some of those same killer instincts...or she had. The adrenaline rush of an impossible-to-pull-off business deal was addictive. The more you succeeded, the more you wanted to try again. Being around Leo was going to be difficult, because like a recovering alcoholic who avoided other drinkers, she was in danger of being sucked into his life, his work issues, whatever made him tick.

Under no circumstances could she let herself be dragged back into that frenzied schedule. The world was a big, beautiful place. She had enough money tucked away to live simply for a very long time. She had lost herself in the drive to achieve success. It was better now to accept her new lifestyle.

Leo moved to the fireplace and began stacking kindling and firewood with the precision of an Eagle Scout. Phoebe busied herself in the kitchen making a pot of chili to go with sandwiches for their lunch. Finally, she broke the awkward silence. “I have a young woman who babysits for me when I have to be gone for a short time. It occurred to me that I could see if she is free and if so, she could stay here in the house and watch Teddy while you and I do an initial damage assessment on the other cabin.”

Leo paused to look over his shoulder, one foot propped on the raised hearth. “You sound very businesslike about this.”

She shrugged. “I used to work for a big company. I’m accustomed to tackling difficult tasks.”

He lit the kindling, stood back to see if it would catch, and then replaced the fire screen, brushing his hands together to remove the soot. “Where did you work?”

Biting her lip, she berated herself inwardly for bringing up a subject she would rather not pursue. “I was a stockbroker for a firm in Charlotte, North Carolina.”

“Did they go under? Is that why you’re here?”

His was a fair assumption. But wrong. “The business survived the economic collapse and is expanding by leaps and bounds.”

“Which doesn’t really answer my question.”

She grimaced. “Maybe when we’ve known each other for more than a nanosecond I might share the gory details. But not today.”

* * *

Leo understood her reluctance, or he thought he did. Not everyone wanted to talk about his or her failures. And rational or not, he regarded his heart attack as a failure. He wasn’t overweight. He didn’t smoke. Truth be told, his vices were few, perhaps only one. He was type A to the max. And type A personalities lived with stress so continuously that the condition became second nature. According to his doctor, no amount of exercise or healthy eating could compensate for an inability to unwind.

So maybe Leo was screwed.

He joined his hostess in the kitchen, looking for any excuse to get closer to her. “Something smells good.” Smooth, Leo. Real smooth.

Last night he had dreamed about Phoebe’s braid. But today...wow. Who knew within that old-fashioned hairstyle was a shiny waterfall the color of midnight?

Phoebe adjusted the heat on the stove top and turned to face him. “I didn’t ask. Do you have any dietary restrictions? Any allergies?”

Leo frowned. “I don’t expect you to cook for me all the time I’m here. You claimed that civilization is close by. Why don’t I take you out now and then?”

She shot him a pitying look that said he was clueless. “Clearly you’ve never tried eating at a restaurant with an infant. It’s ridiculously loud, not to mention that the chaos means tipping the server at least thirty percent to compensate for the rice cereal all over the floor.” She eyed his sweater. “I doubt you would enjoy it.”

“I know kids are messy.” He’d eaten out with Luc and Hattie and the babies a time or two. Hadn’t he? Or come to think of it, maybe it was always at their home. “Well, not that then, but I could at least pick up a pizza once a week.”

Phoebe smiled at him sweetly. “That would be lovely. Thank you, Leo.”

Her genuine pleasure made him want to do all sorts of things for her...and to her. Something about that radiant smile twisted his insides in a knot. The unmistakable jolt of attraction was perhaps inevitable. They were two healthy adults who were going to be living in close proximity for eight or nine weeks. They were bound to notice each other sexually.

He cleared his throat as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Is there a boyfriend who won’t like me staying here?”

Again, that faint, fleeting shadow that dimmed her beauty for a moment. “No. You’re safe.” She shook her head, giving him a rueful smile. “I probably should say yes, though. Just so you don’t get any ideas.”

He tried to look innocent. “What ideas?” All joking aside, he was a little worried about having sex for the first time since... Oh, hell. He had a hard time even saying it in his head. Heart attack. There. He wasn’t afraid of two stupid words.

The doctor had said no restrictions, but the doctor hadn’t seen Phoebe Kemper in a snug crimson sweater. She reminded Leo of a cross between Wonder Woman and Pocahontas. Both of whom he’d fantasized about as a preteen boy. What did that say about his chances of staying away from her?

She shooed him with her hands. “Go unpack. Read one of those books. Lunch will be ready in an hour.”

* * *

Leo enjoyed Phoebe’s cooking almost as much as her soft, feminine beauty. If he could eat like this all the time, maybe he wouldn’t skip meals and drive through fast-food places at nine o’clock at night. Little Teddy sat in his high chair playing with a set of plastic keys. It wasn’t time for another bottle, so the poor kid had to watch the grown-ups eat.

They had barely finished the meal when Allison, the babysitter, showed up. According to Phoebe, she was a college student who lived at home and enjoyed picking up extra money. Plus, she adored Teddy, which was a bonus.

Since temperatures had warmed up enough to melt the ice, Leo went out to the car for his big suitcase, brought it in and rummaged until he found winter gear. Not much of it was necessary in Atlanta. It did snow occasionally, but rarely hung around. Natives, though, could tell hair-raising stories about ice storms and two-week stints without power.

When he made his way back to the living room, Allison was playing peekaboo with the baby, and Phoebe was slipping her arms into a fleece-lined sheepskin jacket. Even the bulky garment did nothing to diminish her appeal.

She tucked a notepad and pen into her pocket. “Don’t be shy about telling me things you see. Construction is not my forte.”

“Nor mine, but my brother and I did build a tree house once upon a time. Does that count?”

He followed her out the door, inhaling sharply as the icy wind filled his lungs with a jolt. The winter afternoon enwrapped them, blue-skied and damp. From every corner echoed the sounds of dripping water as ice gave way beneath pale sunlight.

Lingering on the porch to take it all in, he found himself strangely buoyed by the sights and sounds of the forest. The barest minimum of trees had been cleared for Phoebe’s home and its mate close by. All around them, a sea of evergreen danced in the brisk wind. Though he could see a single contrail far above them, etched white against the blue, there was little other sign of the twenty-first century.

“Did you have these built when you moved here?” he asked as they walked side by side up the incline to the other cabin.

Phoebe tucked the ends of her fluttering scarf into her coat, lifting her face to the sun. “My grandmother left me this property when she died a dozen years ago. I had just started college. For years I held on to it because of sentimental reasons, and then much later...”

“Later, what?”

She looked at him, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Her shoulders lifted and fell. “I decided to mimic Thoreau and live in the woods.”

Phoebe didn’t expand on her explanation, so he didn’t push. They had plenty of time for sharing confidences. And besides, he was none too eager to divulge all his secrets just yet.

* * *

Up close, and in the unforgiving light of day, the damage to the cabin was more extensive than he had realized. He put a hand on Phoebe’s arm. “Let me go first. There’s no telling what might still be in danger of crumbling.”

They were able to open the front door, but just barely. The tree that had crushed the roof was a massive oak, large enough around that Leo would not have been able to encircle it with his arms. The house had caved in so dramatically that the floor was knee-deep in rubble—insulation, roofing shingles, branches of every size and, beneath it all, Phoebe’s furnishings.

She removed her sunglasses and craned her neck to look up at the nonexistent ceiling as she followed Leo inside. “Not much left, is there?” Her voice wobbled a bit at the end. “I’m so grateful it wasn’t my house.”

“You and me, both,” he muttered. Phoebe or Teddy or both could have been killed or badly injured...with no one nearby to check on them. The isolation was peaceful, but he wasn’t sure he approved of a defenseless woman living here. Perhaps that was a prehistoric gut feeling. Given the state of the structure in which they were standing, however, he did have a case.

He just didn’t have any right to argue it.

Taking Phoebe’s hand to steady her, they stepped on top of and over all the debris and made their way to the back portion of the cabin. The far left corner bedroom had escaped unscathed...and some pieces of furniture in the outer rooms were okay for the moment. But if anything were to be salvaged, it would have to be done immediately. Dampness would lead to mildew, and with animals having free rein, further damage was a certainty.

Phoebe’s face was hard to read. Finally she sighed. “I might do better to bulldoze it and start over,” she said glumly. She bent down to pick up a glass wildflower that had tumbled from a small table, but had miraculously escaped demolition. “My friends cautioned me to furnish the rental cabin with inexpensive, institutional stuff that would not be a big deal to replace in case of theft or carelessness on the part of the tenants. I suppose I should have listened.”

“Do you have decent insurance?” He was running the numbers in his head, and the outcome wasn’t pretty.

She nodded. “I don’t remember all the ins and outs of the policy, but my agent is a friend of my sister’s, so I imagine he made sure I have what I need.”

Phoebe’s discouragement was almost palpable.

“Sometimes things work out for a reason,” he said, wanting to reassure her, but well aware that she had no reason to lean on him. “I need something to do to keep me from going crazy. You have a baby to care for. Let me handle this mess, Phoebe. Let me juggle and schedule the various contractors. Please. You’d be doing me a favor.”


Five (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Phoebe was tempted. So tempted. Leo stood facing her, legs planted apart in a stance that said he was there to stay. Wearing an expensive quilted black parka and aviator sunglasses that hid his every emotion, he was an enigma. Why had a virile, handsome, vigorous male found his way to her hidden corner of the world?

What was he after? Healing? Peace? He had the physique of a bouncer and the look of a wealthy playboy. Had he really been sick? Would she be committing a terrible sin to lay this burden on him from the beginning?

“That’s ridiculous,” she said faintly. “I’d be taking advantage of you. But I have to confess that I find your offer incredibly appealing. I definitely underestimated how exhausting it would be to take care of a baby 24/7. I love Teddy, and he’s not really a fussy child at all, but the thought of adding all this...” She flung out her arm. “Well, it’s daunting.”

“Then let me help you,” he said quietly.

“I don’t expect you to actually do the work yourself.”

He pocketed his sunglasses and laughed, making his rugged features even more attractive. “No worries there. I’m aware that men are known for biting off more than they can chew, but your cabin, or what’s left of it, falls into the category of catastrophe. That’s best left to the experts.”

She stepped past him and surveyed the large bed with the burgundy-and-navy duvet. “This was supposed to be your room. I know you would have been comfortable here.” She turned to face him. “I’m sorry, Leo. I feel terrible about shortchanging you.”

He touched her arm. Only for a second. The smile disappeared, but his eyes were warm and teasing. “I’m pretty happy where I ended up. A gorgeous woman. A cozy cabin. Sounds like I won the jackpot.”

“You’re flirting,” she said, hearing the odd and embarrassingly breathless note in her voice.

His gaze was intent, sexy...leaving no question that he was interested. “I’ve been admonished to stop and smell the roses. And here you are.”

Removing her coat that suddenly felt too hot, she leaned against the door frame. The odd sensation of being inside the house but having the sunlight spill down from above was disconcerting. “You may find me more of a thorn. My sister says that living alone up here has made me set in my ways.” It was probably true. Some days she felt like a certified hermit.

Once a social animal comfortable at cocktail parties and business lunches, she now preferred the company of chipmunks and woodpeckers and the occasional fox. Dull, dull, dull...

Leo kicked aside a dangerously sharp portion of what had been the dresser mirror. “I’ll take my chances. I’ve got nowhere to go and nobody to see, as my grandfather used to say. You and Teddy brighten the prospect of my long exile considerably.”

“Are you ever going to tell me why you’re here?” she asked without censoring her curiosity.

He shrugged. “It’s not a very interesting story...but maybe...when it’s time.”

“How will you know?” This odd conversation seemed to have many layers. Her question erased Leo’s charmingly flirtatious smile and replaced it with a scowl.

“You’re a pain in the butt,” he said, the words a low growl.

“I told you I’m no rose.”

He took her arm and steered her toward the front door. “Then pretend,” he muttered. “Can you do that?”

Their muted altercation was interrupted by the arrival of the insurance agent. The next hour was consumed with questions and photographs and introducing Leo to the agent. The two men soon had their heads together as they climbed piles of rubble and inspected every cranny of the doomed cabin.

Phoebe excused herself and walked down the path, knowing that Allison would be ready to go home. As she opened the door and entered the cabin, Teddy greeted her with a chortle and a grin. Envy pinched her heart, but stronger still was happiness that the baby recognized her and was happy to see her.

Given Phoebe’s background, her sister had been torn about the arrangement. But Phoebe had reassured her, and eventually, her sister and brother-in-law gave in. Dragging a baby across the ocean was not an easy task in ideal circumstances, and facing the disposal of an entire estate, they knew Teddy would be miserable and they would be overwhelmed.

Still, Phoebe knew they missed their small son terribly. They used FaceTime to talk to him when Phoebe went into town and had a decent phone signal, and she sent them constant, newsy updates via email and texts. But they were so far away. She suspected they regretted their decision to leave him. Probably, they were working like fiends to take care of all the estate business so they could get back to the U.S. sooner.

When Allison left, Phoebe held Teddy and looked out the window toward the other cabin. Leo and the insurance agent were still measuring and assessing the damage. She rubbed the baby’s back. “I think Santa has sent us our present early, my little man. Leo is proving to be a godsend. Now all I have to do is ignore the fact that he’s the most attractive man I’ve seen in a long, long time, and that he makes it hard to breathe whenever I get too close to him, and I’ll be fine.”

Teddy continued sucking his thumb, his long-lashed eyelids growing heavy as he fought sleep.

“You’re no help,” she grumbled. His weight was comfortable in her arms. Inhaling his clean baby smell made her womb clench. What would it be like to share a child with Leo Cavallo? Would he be a good father, or an absent one?

The man in question burst through the front door suddenly, bringing with him the smell of the outdoors. “Honey, I’m home.” His humor lightened his face and made him seem younger.

Phoebe grinned at him. “Take off your boots, honey.” She was going to have to practice keeping him at arm’s length. Leo Cavallo had the dangerous ability to make himself seem harmless. Which was a lie. Even in a few short hours, Phoebe had recognized and assessed his sexual pull.

Some men simply oozed testosterone. Leo was one of them.

It wasn’t just his size, though he was definitely a bear of a man. More than that, he emanated a gut-level masculinity that made her, in some odd way, far more aware of her own carnal needs. She would like to blame it on the fact that they were alone together in the woods, but in truth, she would have had the same reaction to him had they met at the opera or on the deck of a yacht.

Leo was a man’s man. The kind of male animal who caught women in his net without even trying. Phoebe had thought herself immune to such silly, pheromone-driven impulses, but with Leo in her house, she recognized an appalling truth. She needed sex. She wanted sex. And she had found just the man to satisfy her every whim.

Her face heated as she pretended to be occupied with the baby. Leo shed his coat and pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “Here,” he said. “Take a look. I’ll hold the kid.”

Before Phoebe could protest, Leo scooped Teddy into his arms and lifted him toward the ceiling. Teddy, who had been sleepy only moments before, squealed with delight. Shaking her head at the antics of the two males who seemed in perfect accord, Phoebe sank into a kitchen chair and scanned the list Leo had handed her.

“Ouch,” she said, taking a deep breath for courage. “According to this, I was probably right about the bulldozer.”

Leo shook his head. “No. I realize the bottom line looks bad, but it would be even worse to build a new cabin from the ground up. Your agent thinks the settlement will be generous. All you have to provide is an overabundance of patience.”

“We may have a problem,” she joked. “That’s not my strong suit.”

Teddy’s shirt had rucked up. Leo blew a raspberry against the baby’s pudgy, soft-skinned stomach. “I’ll do my best to keep you out of it. Unless you want to be consulted about every little detail.”

Phoebe shuddered. “Heavens, no. If you’re foolish enough to offer me the chance to get my property repaired without my lifting a finger, then far be it from me to nitpick.”

Teddy wilted suddenly as Leo cuddled him. What was it about the sight of a big, strong man being gentle with a baby that made a woman’s heart melt? Phoebe told herself she shouldn’t be swayed by such an ordinary thing, but she couldn’t help it. Seeing Leo hold little Teddy made her insides mushy with longing. She wanted it all. The man. The baby. Was that too much to ask?

Leo glanced over at her, hopefully not noticing the way her eyes misted over.

“You want me to put him in his bed?” he asked.

“Sure. He takes these little forty-five-minute catnaps on and off instead of one long one. But he seems happy, so I go with the flow.”

Leo paused in the hallway. “How long have you had him?”

“Two weeks. We’ve settled into a routine of sorts.”

“Until I came along to mess things up.”

“If you’re fishing for compliments, forget it. You’ve already earned your keep, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.”

He flashed her a grin. “Just think how much you’ll love me when you get to know me.”

Her knees went weak, and she wasn’t even standing. “Go put him down, Leo, and behave.”

He kissed the baby’s head, smiling down at him. “She’s a hard case, kiddo. But I’ll wear her down.”

When Leo disappeared from sight, Phoebe exhaled loudly. She’d been holding her breath and hadn’t even realized it. Rising to her feet unsteadily, she went from window to window closing the curtains. Darkness fell early in this mountain holler, as the old generation called it. Soon it would be the longest night of the year.

Phoebe had learned to dread the winter months. Not just the snow and ice and cold, gray days, but the intense loneliness. It had been the season of Christmas one year when she lost everything. Each anniversary brought it all back. But even before the advent of Leo, she had been determined to make this year better. She had a baby in the house. And now a guest. Surely that was enough to manufacture holiday cheer and thaw some of the ice that had kept her captive for so long.

Leo returned, carrying his laptop. He made himself at home on the sofa. “Do you mind giving me your internet password?” he asked, opening the computer and firing it up.

Uh-oh. “Um...” She leaned against the sink for support. “I don’t have internet,” she said, not sure there was any way to soften that blow.

Leo’s look, a cross between horror and bafflement, was priceless. “Why not?”

“I decided I could live my life without it.”

He ran his hands through his hair, agitation building. His neck turned red and a pulse beat in his temple. “This is the twenty-first century,” he said, clearly trying to speak calmly. “Everybody has internet.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “This is either a joke, or you’re Amish. Which is it?”

She lifted her chin, refusing to be judged for a decision that had seemed entirely necessary at the time. “Neither. I made a choice. That’s all.”

“My sister-in-law would never have rented me a cabin that didn’t have the appropriate amenities,” he said stubbornly.

“Well,” she conceded. “You’re right about that. The cabin I rent out has satellite internet. But as you saw for yourself, everything was pretty much demolished, including the dish.”

She watched Leo’s good humor evaporate as he absorbed the full import of what she was saying. Suddenly he pulled his smartphone from his pocket. “At least I can check email with this,” he said, a note of panic in his voice.

“We’re pretty far back in this gorge,” she said. “Only one carrier gets a decent signal and it’s—”

“Not the one I have.” He stared at the screen and sighed. “Unbelievable. Outposts in Africa have better connectivity than this. I don’t think I can stay somewhere that I have to be out of touch from the world.”

Phoebe’s heart sank. She had hoped Leo would come to appreciate the simplicity of her life here in the mountains. “Is it really that important? I have a landline phone you’re welcome to use. For that matter, you can use my cell phone. And I do have a television dish, so you’re welcome to add the other service if it’s that important to you.” If he were unable to understand and accept the choices she had made, then it would be foolish to pursue the attraction between them. She would only end up getting hurt.

Leo closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said at last, shooting her a look that was half grimace, half apology. “It took me by surprise, that’s all. I’m accustomed to having access to my business emails around the clock.”

Was that why he was here? Because he was too plugged in? Had he suffered some kind of breakdown? It didn’t seem likely, but she knew firsthand how tension and stress could affect a person.

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and crossed the room to hand it to him. “Use mine for now. It’s not a problem.”

Their fingers brushed as she gave him the device. Leo hesitated for a moment, but finally took it. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. “I appreciate it.”

Turning her back to give him some privacy, she went to the kitchen to rummage in the fridge and find an appealing dinner choice. Now that Leo was here, she would have to change her grocery buying habits. Fortunately, she had chicken and vegetables that would make a nice stir-fry.

Perhaps twenty minutes passed before she heard a very ungentlemanly curse from her tenant. Turning sharply, she witnessed the fury and incredulity that turned his jaw to steel and his eyes to molten chocolate. “I can’t believe they did this to me.”

She wiped her hands on a dish towel. “What, Leo? What did they do? Who are you talking about?”

He stood up and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “My brother,” he croaked. “My black-hearted, devious baby brother.”

As she watched, he paced, his scowl growing darker by the minute. “I’ll kill him,” he said with far too much relish. “I’ll poison his coffee. I’ll beat him to a pulp. I’ll grind his wretched bones into powder.”

Phoebe felt obliged to step in at that moment. “Didn’t you say he has a wife and two kids? I don’t think you really want to murder your own flesh and blood...do you? What could he possibly have done that’s so terrible?”

Leo sank into an armchair, his arms dangling over the sides. Everything about his posture suggested defeat. “He locked me out of my work email,” Leo muttered with a note of confused disbelief. “Changed all the passwords. Because he didn’t trust me to stay away.”

“Well, it sounds like he knows you pretty well, then. ’Cause isn’t that exactly what you were doing? Trying to look at work email?”

Leo glared at her, his brother momentarily out of the crosshairs. “Whose side are you on anyway? You don’t even know my brother.”

“When you spoke of him earlier...he and your sister-in-law and the kids...I heard love in your voice, Leo. So that tells me he must love you just as much. Following that line of reasoning, he surely had a good reason to do what he did.”

A hush fell over the room. The clock on the mantel ticked loudly. Leo stared at her with an intensity that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. He was pissed. Really angry. And since his brother wasn’t around, Phoebe might very well be his default target.

She had the temerity to inch closer and perch on the chair opposite him. “Why would he keep you away from work, Leo? And why did he and your sister-in-law send you here? You’re not a prisoner. If being with me in this house is so damned terrible, then do us both a favor and go home.”


Six (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Leo was ashamed of his behavior. He’d acted like a petulant child. But everything about this situation threw him off balance. He was accustomed to being completely in charge of his domain, whether that be the Cavallo empire or his personal life. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Luc. He did. Completely. Unequivocally. And in his gut, he knew the business wouldn’t suffer in his absence.

Perhaps that was what bothered him the most. If the company he had worked all of his adult life to build could roll along just fine during his two-month hiatus, then what use was Leo to anyone? His successes were what he thrived on. Every time he made an acquisition or increased the company’s bottom line, he felt a rush of adrenaline that was addictive.

Moving slot by slot up the Fortune 500 was immensely gratifying. He had made more money, both for the company and for himself, by the time he was thirty than most people earned in a lifetime. He was damned good at finance. Even in uncertain times, Leo had never made a misstep. His grandfather even went so far as to praise him for his genius. Given that eliciting a compliment from the old dragon was as rare as finding unicorn teeth, Leo had been justifiably proud.

But without Cavallo...without the high-tech office...without the daily onslaught of problems and split-second decisions...who was he? Just a young man with nowhere to go and nothing to do. The aimlessness of it all hung around his neck like a millstone.

Painfully aware that Phoebe had observed his humiliating meltdown, he stood, grabbed his coat from the hook by the door, shoved his feet in his shoes and escaped.

* * *

Phoebe fixed dinner with one ear out for the baby and one eye out the window to see if Leo was coming back. His car still sat parked out front, so she knew he was on foot. The day was warm, at least by December standards. But it was possible to get lost in these mountains. People did it all the time.

The knot in her stomach eased when at long last, he reappeared. His expression was impossible to read, but his body language seemed relaxed. “I’ve worked up an appetite” he said, smiling as if nothing had happened.

“It’s almost ready. If we’re lucky we’ll be able to eat our meal in peace before Teddy wakes up.”

“He’s still asleep?”

She nodded. “I can never predict his schedule. I guess because he’s still so small. But since I’m flexible, I’m fine with that.”

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 want 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 (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

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?”

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?”

Her stage whisper was comical given the fact that Teddy was clearly awake.

“You need some backup?”

“I’m fine.” She started to close the door, but he stuck his foot in the gap, remembering at the last instant that he wasn’t wearing shoes.

She pushed harder than he anticipated, and his socks were less protection than he expected. Pain shot up his leg. He groaned, jerking backward and nearly falling on his ass. Hopping on one foot, he pounded his fist against the wall to keep from letting loose with a string of words definitely not rated for kid ears.

Now Phoebe flung the door open wide, her face etched in dismay. “Are you hurt? Oh, heavens, of course you are. Here,” she said. “Hold him while I get ice.”

Without warning, his arms were full of a squirmy little body that smelled of spit-up and Phoebe’s light floral scent. “But I...” He followed her down the hall, wincing at every step, even as Teddy’s grumbles grew louder.

By the time he made it to the living room, Phoebe had turned on a couple of lamps and filled a dish towel with ice cubes. Her fingers curled around his biceps. “Give me the baby and sit down,” she said, sounding frazzled and irritated, and anything but amorous. She pushed him toward the sofa. “Put your leg on the couch and let me see if you broke anything.”

Teddy objected to the jostling and cried in earnest. Leo lost his balance and flopped down onto the sofa so hard that the baby’s head and Leo’s chin made contact with jarring force.

“Damn it to hell.” He lay back, half-dazed, as Phoebe plucked Teddy from his arms and sat at the opposite end of the sofa. Before he could object, she had his leg in her lap and was peeling off his sock.

When slim, cool fingers closed around the bare arch of his foot, Leo groaned again. This time for a far different reason. Having Phoebe stroke his skin was damned arousing, even if he was in pain. Her thumb pressed gently, moving from side to side to assess the damage.

Leo hissed, a sharp involuntary inhalation. Phoebe winced. “Sorry. Am I hurting you too badly?”

She glanced sideways and her eyes grew big. His robe had opened when he lost his balance. Most of his chest was bare, and it was impossible to miss the erection that tented his sleep pants. He actually saw the muscles in her throat ripple as she swallowed.

“It feels good,” he muttered. “Don’t stop.”

But Teddy shrieked in earnest now, almost inconsolable.

Phoebe dropped Leo’s foot like it was a live grenade, scooting out from under his leg and standing. “Put the ice on it,” she said, sounding breathless and embarrassed. “I’ll be back.”

* * *

Phoebe sank into the rocker in Teddy’s room, her whole body trembling with awareness. The baby curled into her shoulder as she rubbed his back and sang to him quietly. He wasn’t hungry. She had given him a bottle barely an hour ago. His only problem now was that his mouth hurt. She’d felt the tiny sharp edge of a tooth on his bottom gum and knew it was giving him fits. “Poor darling,” she murmured. Reaching for the numbing drops, she rubbed a small amount on his sore mouth.

Teddy sucked her fingertip, snuffled and squirmed, then gradually subsided into sleep. She rocked him an extra five minutes just to make sure. When he was finally out, she laid him in his crib and tiptoed out of the room.

Her bed called out to her. She was weaving on her feet, wrapped in a thick blanket of exhaustion. But she had told Leo she would come back. And in truth, nothing but cowardice could keep her from fulfilling that promise.

When she returned to the living room, it was filled with shadows, only a single lamp burning, though Leo had started another fire in the grate that gave off some illumination. He was watching television, but he switched it off as soon as she appeared. She hovered in the doorway, abashed by the sexual currents drawing her to this enigma of a man. “How’s the foot?”

“See for yourself.”

It was a dare, and she recognized it as such. Her legs carried her forward, even as her brain shouted, Stop. Stop. She wasn’t so foolish this time as to sit down on the sofa. Instead, she knelt and removed the makeshift ice pack, setting it aside on a glass dish. Leo’s foot was bruising already. A thin red line marked where the sharp corner of the door had scraped him.

“How does it feel?” she asked quietly.

Leo sat up, wincing, as he pulled his thick wool sock into place over his foot and ankle. “I’ll live.”

When he leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees, he was face-to-face with her. “Unless you have an objection,” he said, “I’m going to kiss you now.” A lock of hair fell over his forehead. His voice was husky and low, sending shivers down her spine. The hour was late, that crazy time when dawn was far away and the night spun on, seemingly forever.

She licked her lips, feeling her nipples furl tightly, even as everything else in her body loosened with the warm flow of honey. “No objections,” she whispered, wondering if he had woven some kind of spell over her while she was sleeping.

Slowly, gently, perhaps giving her time to resist, he cupped her cheeks with his hands, sliding his fingers into her hair and massaging her scalp. His thumbs ran along her jawline, pausing when he reached the little indentation beneath her ear.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he groaned, resting his forehead against hers. She could feel the heat radiating from his bare chest. All on their own, her hands came up to touch him, to flatten over his rib cage, to explore miles of warm, smooth skin. Well-defined pectoral muscles gave way to a thin line of hair that led to a flat belly corded with more muscles.

She felt drunk with pleasure. So long...it had been so long. And though she had encountered opportunities to be intimate with men during the past three years, none of them had been as tempting as Leo Cavallo. “What are we doing?” she asked raggedly, almost beyond the point of reason.

He gathered handfuls of her hair and played with it, pulling her closer. “Getting to know each other,” he whispered. His mouth settled over hers, lips firm and confident. She opened to him, greedy for more of the hot pleasure that built at the base of her abdomen and made her shift restlessly.

When his tongue moved lazily between her lips, she met it with hers, learning the taste of him as she had wanted to so badly, experimenting with the little motions that made him shudder and groan. He held her head tightly now, dragging her to him, forcing her neck to arch so he could deepen the kiss. He tasted of toothpaste and determination.

Her hands clung to his wrists. “You’re good at this,” she panted. “A little too good.”

“It’s you,” he whispered. “It’s you.” He moved down beside her so that they were chest to chest. “Tell me to stop, Phoebe.” Wildly he kissed her, his hands roving over her back and hips. They were so close, his erection pressed into her belly.

She was wearing her usual knit pajamas, nothing sexy about them. But when his big hands trespassed beneath the elastic waistband and cupped her butt, she felt like a desirable woman. It had been so long since a man had touched her. And this wasn’t just any man.

It was Leo. Big, brawny Leo, who looked as if he could move mountains for a woman, and yet paradoxically touched her so gently she wanted to melt into him and never leave his embrace. “Make love to me, Leo. Please. I need you so much....”

He dragged her to her feet and drew her closer to the fireplace. Standing on the bearskin rug, he pulled her top over her head. As he stared at her breasts, he cradled one in each hand, squeezing them carefully, plumping them with an expression that made her feel wanton and hungry.

At last looking at her face, he rubbed her nipples lightly as he kissed her nose, her cheeks, her eyes. His expression was warmly sensual, wickedly hot. “You make a man weak,” he said. “I want to do all sorts of things to you, but I don’t know where to start.”

She should have felt awkward or embarrassed. But instead, exhilaration fizzed in her veins, making her breathing choppy. His light touch was not enough. She twined her arms around his neck, rubbing her lower body against his. “Does this give you any ideas?”


Eight (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Leo was torn on a rack of indecision. Phoebe was here...in his arms...willing. But some tiny shred of decency in his soul insisted on being heard. The timing wasn’t right. This wasn’t right.

Cursing himself inwardly with a groan of anguish for the effort it took to stop the train on the tracks, he removed her arms from around his neck and stepped back. “We can’t,” he said. “I won’t take advantage of you.”

Barely able to look at what he was saying no to, he grabbed her pajama top and thrust it toward her. “Put this on.”

Phoebe obeyed instantly as mortification and anger colored her face. “I’m not a child, Leo. I make my own decisions.”

He wanted to comfort her, but touching her again was out of the question. An explanation would have to suffice. He hoped she understood him. “A tree demolished one of your cabins. You’re caring for a teething baby, who has kept you up big chunks of the past two nights. Stress and exhaustion are no basis for making decisions.” He of all people should know. “I don’t want to be that man you regret when the sun comes up.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, glaring at him with thinly veiled hurt. “I should toss you out on your ass,” she said, the words holding a faint but audible tremor.

His heart contracted. “I hope you won’t.” There were things he needed to tell her before they became intimate, and if he wasn’t ready to come clean, then he wasn’t ready to have sex with Phoebe. He hurt just looking at her. With her hair mussed and her protective posture, she seemed far younger than he knew her to be. Achingly vulnerable.

She lifted her chin. “We won’t do this again. You keep to yourself, and I’ll keep my end of the bargain. Good night, Leo.” Turning on her heel, she left him.

The room seemed cold and lonely in her absence. Had he made the most colossal mistake of his life? The fire between the two of them burned hot and bright. She was perfection in his arms, sensual, giving, as intuitive a lover as he had ever envisaged.

Despite his unfilled passion, he knew he had done the right thing. Phoebe wasn’t the kind of woman who had sex without thinking it through. Despite her apparent willingness tonight to do just that, he knew she would have blamed both herself and him when it was all over.

What he wanted from her, if indeed he had a chance of ever getting close to her again, was trust. He had secrets to share. And he suspected she did, as well. So he could wait for the other, the carnal satisfaction. Maybe....

* * *

Phoebe climbed into her cold bed with tears of humiliation wetting her cheeks. No matter what Leo said, tonight had been a rejection. What kind of man could call a halt when he was completely aroused and almost at the point of penetration? Only one who wasn’t fully involved or committed to the act of lovemaking.

Perhaps she had inadvertently stimulated him with her foot massage. And maybe the intimacy of their nap in front of the fire had given him a buzz. But in the end, Phoebe simply wasn’t who or what he wanted.

The fact that she could be badly hurt by a man she had met only recently gave her pause. Was she so desperate? So lonely? Tonight’s debacle had given her some painful truths to examine.

But self-reflection would have to wait, because despite her distress, she could barely keep her eyes open....

* * *

Leo slept late the next morning. Not intentionally, but because he had been up much of the night pacing the floor. Sometime before dawn he had taken a shower and pleasured himself, but it had been a hollow exercise whose only purpose was to allow him to find oblivion in much-needed sleep.

The clock read almost ten when he made his way to the front of the house. He liked the open floor plan of the living room and kitchen, because it gave fewer places for Phoebe to hide.

Today, however, he was dumbstruck to find that she was nowhere in the house. And Teddy’s crib was empty.

A twinge of panic gripped him until he found both of them out on the front porch chatting with the man who had come to remove the enormous fallen oak tree. When he stepped outside, Phoebe’s quick disapproving glance reminded him that he had neither shaved nor combed his hair.

The grizzled workman who could have been anywhere from fifty to seventy saluted them with tobacco-stained fingers and headed down the lane to where he had parked his truck.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said stiffly. “I was supposed to be handling this.”

Phoebe’s lips smiled, but her gaze was wintry. “No problem. Teddy and I dealt with it. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get him down for his morning nap.”

“But I—”

She shut the door in his face, leaving him out in the cold...literally.

He paused on the porch to count to ten, or maybe a hundred. Then, when he thought he had a hold on his temper, he went back inside and scavenged the kitchen for a snack to hold him until lunch. A couple of pieces of cold toast he found on a plate by the stove would have to do. He slathered them with some of Phoebe’s homemade strawberry jam and sat down at the table. When Phoebe returned, he had finished eating and had also realized that he needed a favor. Not a great time to ask, but what the heck.

She ignored him pointedly, but he wasn’t going to let a little cold shoulder put him off. “May I use your phone?” he asked politely.

“Why?”

“I’m going to order a new phone from your carrier since mine is virtually useless, and I also want to get internet service going. I’ll pay the contract fees for a year, but when I leave you can drop it if you want to.”

“That’s pretty expensive for a short-term solution. It must be nice to be loaded.”

He ground his teeth together, reminding himself that she was still upset about last night. “I won’t apologize for having money,” he said quietly. “I work very hard.”

“Is it really that important to stay plugged in? Can’t you go cold turkey for two months?” Phoebe was pale. She looked at him as if she would put him on the first plane out if she could.

How had they become combatants? He stared at her until her cheeks flushed and she looked away. “Technology and business are not demons,” he said. “We live in the information age.”

“And what about your recovery?”

“What about it?”

“I got the impression that you were supposed to stay away from business in order to rest and recuperate.”

“I can do that and still have access to the world.”

She took a step in his direction. “Can you? Can you really? Because from where I’m standing, you look like a guy who is determined to get what he wants when he wants it. Your doctor may have given you orders. Your brother may have, as well. But I doubt you respect them enough to really do what they’ve asked.”

Her harsh assessment hit a little too close to home. “I’m following doctor’s orders, I swear. Though it’s really none of your business.” The defensive note in his voice made him cringe inwardly. Was he honestly the ass she described?

“Do what you have to do,” she said, pulling her phone from her pocket and handing it to him. Her expression was a mix of disappointment and resignation. “But I would caution you to think long and hard about the people who love you. And why it is that you’re here.”

At that moment, Leo saw a large delivery truck pull up in front of the cabin. Good, his surprise had arrived. Maybe it would win him some brownie points with Phoebe. And deflect her from the uncomfortable subject of his recuperation.

She went to the door as the bell rang. “But I didn’t order anything,” she protested when the man in brown set a large box just inside the door.

“Please sign here, ma’am,” he said patiently.

The door slammed and Phoebe stared down at the box as if it possibly contained dynamite.

“Open it,” Leo said.

* * *

Phoebe couldn’t help being a little anxious when she tore into the package. It didn’t have foreign postage, so it was not from her sister. She pulled back the cardboard flaps and stared in amazement. The box was full of food—an expensive ham, casseroles preserved in freezer packs, desserts, fresh fruit, the list was endless.

She turned to look at Leo, who now lay sprawled on the sofa. “Did you do this?”

He shrugged, his arms outstretched along the back of the couch. “Before I lost my temper yesterday about my work email, I scrolled through my personal messages and decided to contact a good buddy of mine, a cordon bleu chef in Atlanta who owes me a favor. I felt bad about you agreeing to cook for me all the time, so I asked him to hook us up with some meals. He’s going to send a box once a week.”

Her mind reeled. Not only was this a beautifully thoughtful gesture, it was also incredibly expensive. She stared at the contents, feeling her dismal mood slip away. A man like Leo would be a lovely companion for the following two months, even if all he wanted from her was friendship.

Before she could lose her nerve, she crossed the room, leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. His look of shock made her face heat. “Don’t worry,” she said wryly. “That was completely platonic. I merely wanted to say thank-you for a lovely gift.”

He grasped her wrist, his warm touch sending ripples of heat all the way up her arm. “You’re welcome, Phoebe. But of course, it’s partially a selfish thing. I get to enjoy the bounty, as well.” His smile could charm the birds off the trees. In repose, Leo’s rugged features seemed austere, even intimidating. But when he smiled, the force of his charisma increased exponentially.

Feeling something inside her soul ease at the cessation of hostilities, she returned the smile, though she pulled away and put a safe distance between them. It was no use being embarrassed or awkward around Leo. She wasn’t so heartless as to throw him out, and truthfully, she didn’t want to. Teddy was a sweetheart, but having another adult in the house was a different kind of stimulation.

Suddenly, she remembered what she had wanted to ask Leo before last night when everything ended so poorly. “Tell me,” she said. “Would you object to having Christmas decorations in the house?”

“That’s a strange segue, but why would I object?” he asked. “I’m not a Scrooge.”

“I never thought you were, but you might have ethnic or religious reasons to abstain.”

“No problems on either score,” he chuckled. “Does this involve a shopping trip?”

“No. Actually, I have boxes and boxes of stuff in the attic. When I moved here, I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. Now, with Teddy in the house, it doesn’t seem right to ignore the holiday. I wasn’t able to take it all down on my own. Do you mind helping? I warn you...it’s a lot of stuff.”

“Including a tree?”

She smiled beseechingly. “My old one is artificial, and not all that pretty. I thought it might be fun to find one in the woods.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, of course. I own thirty acres. Surely we can discover something appropriate.”

He lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “We?”

“Yes, we. Don’t be so suspicious. I’m not sending you out in the cold all on your own. I have one of those baby carrier things. Teddy and I will go with you. Besides, I don’t think men are the best judge when it comes to locating the perfect tree.”

“You wound me,” he said, standing and clutching his chest. “I have excellent taste.”

“This cabin has space limitations to consider. And admit it. Men always think bigger is better.”

“So do women as a rule.”

His naughty double entendre was delivered with a straight face, but his eyes danced with mischief. Phoebe knew her cheeks had turned bright red. She felt the heat. “Are we still talking about Christmas trees?” she asked, her throat dry as the Sahara.

“You tell me.”

“I think you made yourself pretty clear last night,” she snapped.

He looked abashed. “I never should have let things go that far. We need to take baby steps, Phoebe. Forced proximity makes for a certain intimacy, but I respect you too much to take advantage of that.”

“And if I take advantage of you?”

She was appalled to hear the words leave her mouth. Apparently her libido trumped both her pride and her common sense.

Leo’s brows drew together in a scowl. He folded his arms across his broad chest. With his legs braced in a fighting stance, he suddenly seemed far more dangerous. Today he had on old jeans and a cream wool fisherman’s sweater.

Everything about him from his head to his toes screamed wealth and privilege. So why hadn’t he chosen some exclusive resort for his sabbatical? A place with tennis courts and spas and golf courses?

He still hadn’t answered her question. The arousal swirling in her belly congealed into a small knot of embarrassment. Did he get some kind of sadistic kick out of flirting with women and then shutting them down?

“Never mind,” she said, the words tight. “I understand.”

He strode toward her, his face a thundercloud. “You don’t understand a single damn thing,” he said roughly. Before she could protest or back up or initiate any other of a dozen protective moves, he dragged her to his chest, wrapped one arm around her back and used his free hand to anchor her chin and tip her face up to his.

His thick-lashed brown eyes, afire with emotion and seemingly able to peer into her soul, locked on hers and dared her to look away. “Make no mistake, Phoebe,” he said. “I want you. And Lord willing, I’m going to have you. When we finally make it to a bed—or frankly any flat surface, ’cause I’m not picky—I’m going to make love to you until we’re both too weak to stand. But in the meantime, you’re going to behave. I’m going to behave. Got it?”

Time stood still. Just like in the movies. Every one of her senses went on high alert. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When he grabbed her, she had braced one hand reflexively on his shoulder, though the idea of holding him at bay was ludicrous. She couldn’t manage that even if she wanted to. His strength and power were evident despite whatever illness had plagued him.

Dark stubble covered his chin. He could have been a pirate or a highwayman or any of the renegade heroes in the historical novels her sister read. Phoebe was so close she could inhale the warm scent of him. A great bear of a man not long from his bed.

She licked her lips, trembling enough that she was glad of his support. “Define behave.” She kissed his chin, his wrist, the fingers caressing her skin.

Leo fought her. Not outwardly. But from within. His struggle was written on his face. But he didn’t release her. Not this time.

The curse he uttered as he gave in to her provocation was heartfelt and earthy as he encircled her with both arms and half lifted her off her feet. His mouth crushed hers, taking...giving no quarter. His masculine force was exhilarating. She was glad she was tall and strong, because it gave her the ability to match him kiss for kiss.

Baby steps be damned. She and Leo had jumped over miles of social convention and landed in a time of desperation, of elemental reality. Like the prehistoric people who had lived in these hills and valleys centuries before, the base human instinct to mate clawed its way to the forefront, making a mockery of soft words and tender sentiments.

This was passion in its most raw form. She rubbed against him, desperate to get closer. “Leo,” she groaned, unable to articulate what she wanted, what she needed. “Leo...”


Nine (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

He was lost. Months of celibacy combined with the uncertainty of whether his body would be the same after his attack walloped him like a sucker punch. In his brain he repeated a frenzied litany. Just a kiss. Just a kiss, just a kiss...

His erection was swollen painfully, the taut skin near bursting. His lungs had contracted to half capacity, and black dots danced in front of his eyes. Phoebe felt like heaven in his arms. She was feminine and sinfully curved in all the right places, but she wasn’t fragile. He liked that. No. Correction. He loved that. She kissed him without apology, no half measures.

Her skin smelled like scented shower gel and baby powder. This morning her hair was again tamed in a fat braid. He wrapped it around his fist and tugged, drawing back her head so he could nip at her throat with sharp love bites.

The noise she made, part cry, part moan, hit him in the gut. He lifted her, grunting when her legs wrapped around his waist. They were fully clothed, but he thrust against her, tormenting them both with pressure that promised no relief.

Without warning, Phoebe struggled to get away from him. He held her more tightly, half crazed with the urge to take her hard and fast.

She pushed at his chest. “Leo. I hear the baby. He’s awake.”

Finally, her breathless words penetrated the fog of lust that chained him. He dropped her to her feet and staggered backward, his heart threatening to pound through the wall of his chest.

Afraid of his own emotions, he strode to the door where his boots sat, shoved his feet into them, flung open the door and left the cabin, never looking back.

* * *

Phoebe had never once seen Teddy’s advent into her life as anything but a blessing. Until today. Collecting herself as best she could, she walked down the hall and scooped him out of his crib. “Well, that was a short nap,” she said with a laugh that bordered on hysteria. Teddy, happy now that she had rescued him, chortled as he clutched her braid. His not-so-nice baby smell warned her that he had a messy diaper, probably the reason he had awakened so soon.

She changed him and then put him on a blanket on the floor while she tidied his room. Even as she automatically carried out the oft-repeated chores, her mind was attuned to Leo’s absence. He had left without a coat. Fortunately, he was wearing a thick sweater, and thankfully, the temperature had moderated today, climbing already into the low fifties.

She was appalled and remorseful about what had happened, all of it her fault. Leo, ever the gentleman, had done his best to be levelheaded about confronting their attraction amidst the present situation. But Phoebe, like a lonely, deprived spinster, had practically attacked him. It was no wonder things had escalated.

Men, unless they were spoken for—and sometimes not even then—were not physically wired to refuse women who threw out such blatant invitations. And that’s what Phoebe had done. She had made it abysmally clear that she was his for the taking.

Leo had reacted. Of course. What red-blooded, straight, unattached male wouldn’t? Oh, God. How was she going to face him? And how did they deal with this intense but ill-timed attraction?

A half hour later she held Teddy on her hip as she put away the abundance of food Leo’s chef friend had sent. She decided to have the chimichangas for lunch. They were already prepared. All she had to do was thaw them according to the directions and then whip up some rice and salad to go alongside.

An hour passed, then two. She only looked out the window a hundred times or so. What if he was lost? Or hurt? Or sick? Her stomach cramped, thinking of the possibilities.

* * *

Leo strode through the forest until his legs ached and his lungs gasped for air. It felt good to stretch his physical limits, to push himself and know that he was okay. Nothing he did, however, erased his hunger for Phoebe. At first he had been suspicious of his immediate fascination. His life had recently weathered a rough patch, and feminine companionship hadn’t even been on his radar. That was how he rationalized his response to Phoebe, even on the day they’d met.

But he knew it was more than that. She was a virus in his blood, an immediate, powerful affliction that was in its own way as dangerous as his heart attack. Phoebe had the power to make his stay here either heaven or hell. And if it were the latter, he might as well cut and run right now.

But even as he thought it, his ego and his libido shouted a vehement hell, no. Phoebe might be calling the shots as his landlady, but when it came to sex, the decision was already made. He and Phoebe were going to be lovers. The only question was when and where.

His head cleared as he walked, and the physical exertion gradually drained him to the point that he felt able to go back. He had followed the creek upstream for the most part, not wanting to get lost. In some places the rhododendron thickets were so dense he was forced to climb up and around. When he finally halted, he was partway up the mountainside. To his surprise, he could see a tiny section of Phoebe’s chimney sticking up out of the woods.

Perhaps Luc had been right. Here, in an environment so antithetical to Leo’s own, he saw himself in a new light. His world was neither bad nor good in comparison to Phoebe’s. But it was different.

Was that why Phoebe had come here? To get perspective? And if so, had she succeeded? Would she ever go back to her earlier life?

He sat for a moment on a large granite boulder, feeling the steady pumping of his heart. Its quiet, regular beats filled him with gratitude for everything he had almost lost. Perhaps it was the nature of humans to take life for granted. But now, like the sole survivor of a plane crash, he felt obliged to take stock, to search for meaning, to tear apart the status quo and see if it was really worthy of his devotion.

Amidst those noble aspirations, he shamefully acknowledged if only to himself that he yearned to be back at his desk. He ran a billion-dollar company, and ran it well. He was Leo Cavallo, CFO of a textile conglomerate that spanned the globe. Like a recovering addict, his hands itched for a fix...for the pulse-pumping, mentally stimulating, nonstop schedule that he understood so intimately.

He knew people used workaholic as a pejorative term, often with a side order of pitying glances and shakes of the head. But, honest to God, he didn’t see anything wrong with having passion for a job and doing it well. It irritated the hell out of him to imagine all the balls that were being dropped in his absence. Not that Luc and the rest of the team weren’t as smart as he was...it wasn’t that.

Leo, however, gave Cavallo his everything.

In December, the prep work began for year-end reports. Who was paying attention to those sorts of things while Leo was AWOL? It often became necessary to buy or sell some smaller arms of the business for the appropriate tax benefit. The longer he thought about it, the more agitated he became. He could feel his blood pressure escalating.

As every muscle in his body tensed, he had to force himself to take deep breaths, to back away from an invisible cliff. In the midst of his agitation, an inquisitive squirrel paused not six inches from Leo’s boot to scrabble in the dirt for an acorn. Chattering his displeasure with the human who had invaded his territory, the small animal worked furiously, found the nut and scampered away.

Leo smiled. And in doing so, felt the burden he carried shift and ease. He inhaled sharply, filling his lungs with clean air. As a rule, he thrived on the sounds of traffic and the ceaseless hum of life in a big city. Yet even so, he found himself noticing the stillness of the woods. The almost imperceptible presence of creatures who went about their business doing whatever they were created to do.

They were lucky, Leo mused wryly. No great soul-searching for them. Merely point A to point B. And again. And again.

He envied them their singularity of purpose, though he had no desire to be a hamster on a wheel. As a boy, his teachers had identified him as gifted. His parents had enrolled him in special programs and sent him to summer camps in astrophysics and geology and other erudite endeavors.

All of it interested and engaged him, but he never quite fit in anywhere. His size and athletic prowess made him a target of suspicion in the realm of the nerds, and his academic successes and love for school excluded him from the jock circle.

His brother became, and still was, his best friend. They squabbled and competed as siblings did, but their bond ran deep. Which was why Leo was stuck here, like a storybook character, lost in the woods. Because Luc had insisted it was important. And Leo owed his brother. If Luc believed Leo needed this time to recover, then it was probably so.

Rising to his feet and stretching, he shivered hard. After his strenuous exercise, he had sat too long, and now he was chilled and stiff. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to see Phoebe. He couldn’t share his soul-searching and his minor epiphanies with her, because he hadn’t yet come clean about his health. But he wanted to be with her. In any way and for any amount of time fate granted him.

Though it was not his way, he made an inward vow to avoid the calendar and to concentrate on the moment. Perhaps there was more to Leo Cavallo than met the eye. If so, he had two months to figure it out.

* * *

Phoebe couldn’t decide whether to cry or curse when Leo finally came through the door, his tall, broad silhouette filling the doorway. Her giddy relief that he was okay warred with irritation because he had disappeared for so long without an explanation. Of course, if he had been living in his own cabin, she would not have been privy to his comings and goings.

But this was different. He and Phoebe were cohabiting. Which surely gave her some minimal rights when it came to social conventions. Since she didn’t have the guts to chastise him, her only choice was to swallow her pique and move forward.

As he entered and kicked off his muddy boots, he smiled sheepishly. “Have you already eaten?”

“Yours is warming in the oven.” She returned the smile, but stayed seated. It wasn’t necessary to hover over him like a doting housewife. Leo was a big boy.

Teddy played with a plastic straw while Phoebe enjoyed a second cup of coffee. As Leo joined her at the table, she nodded at his plate. “Your friend is a genius. Please thank him for me. Though I’m sure I’ll be ruing the additional calories.”

Leo dug into his food with a gusto that suggested he had walked long and hard. “You’re right. I’ve even had him cater dinner parties at my home. Makes me very popular, I can tell you.”

As he finished his meal, Phoebe excused herself to put a drooping Teddy down for his nap. “I have a white noise machine I use sometimes in his room, so I think we’ll be able to get the boxes down without disturbing him,” she said. “And if he takes a long afternoon nap like he sometimes does, we can get a lot of the decorating done if you’re still up for it.”

Leo cocked his head, leaning his chair back on two legs. “I’m definitely up for it,” he said, his lips twitching.

She couldn’t believe he would tease about their recent insanity. “That’s not funny.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” He grinned wryly. “I realize in theory that couples with young children have sex. I just don’t understand how they do it.”

His hangdog expression made Phoebe burst into laughter, startling Teddy, who had almost fallen asleep on her shoulder. “Well, you don’t have to worry about it,” she said sharply, giving him a look designed to put him in his place. “All I have on the agenda this afternoon is decking the halls.”

* * *

Leo had seldom spent as much time alone with a woman as he had with Phoebe. He was beginning to learn her expressions and to read them with a fair amount of accuracy. When she reappeared after settling the baby, her excitement was palpable.

“The pull-down steps to the attic are in that far corner over there.” She dragged a chair in that direction. “I’ll draw the cord and you get ready to steady the steps as they come down.”

He did as she asked, realizing ruefully that this position put him on eye level with her breasts. Stoically, he looked in the opposite direction. Phoebe dragged on the rope. The small framed-off section of the ceiling opened up to reveal a very sturdy set of telescoping stairs.

Leo grabbed the bottom section and pulled, easing it to the floor. He set his foot on the first rung. “What do you want me to get first?”

“The order doesn’t really matter. I want it all. Except for the tree. That can stay. Here,” she said, handing him a flashlight from her pocket. “I almost forgot.”

Leo climbed, using the heavy flashlight to illuminate cobwebs so he could swat them away. Perhaps because the cabin was fairly new, or maybe because Phoebe was an organized sort, her attic was not a hodgepodge of unidentified mess. Neatly labeled cardboard cartons and large plastic tubs had been stacked in a tight perimeter around the top of the stairs within easy reach.

Some of the containers were fairly heavy. He wondered how she had managed to get them up here. He heard a screech and bent to stick his head out the hole. “What’s wrong?”

Phoebe shuddered. “A spider. I didn’t think all this stuff would have gotten so icky in just three years.”

“Shall I stop?”

She grimaced. “No. We might as well finish. I’ll just take two or three showers when we’re done.”

He tossed her a small box that was light as a feather. In neat black marker, Phoebe had labeled Treetop Angel. When she caught it, he grinned at her. “I’d be glad to help with that body check. I’ll search the back of your hair for creepy-crawlies.”

“I can’t decide if that’s revolting or exciting. Seems like you made a similar offer when you were convincing me to let you stay. Only then, you promised to kill hypothetical bugs.”

“Turns out I was right, doesn’t it?” He returned to his task, his body humming with arousal. He’d never paid much attention to the holidays. But with Phoebe, suddenly all the chores surrounding Christmas took on a whole new dimension.

By the time he had brought down the last box and stored away the stairs, Phoebe was elbows-deep into a carton of ornaments.

She held up a tiny glass snowman. “My grandmother gave me this when I was eight.”

He crouched beside her. “Is she still alive?”

“No. Sadly.”

“And your parents?” He was close enough to brush his lips across the nape of her neck, but he refrained.

Phoebe sank back on her bottom and crossed her legs, working to separate a tangle of glittery silver beads. “My parents were hit by a drunk driver when my sister and I were in high school. A very kind foster family took us in and looked after us until we were able to graduate and get established in college.”

“And since then?”

“Dana and I are very close.”

“No significant others in your past?”

She frowned at the knot that wouldn’t give way. “What about your family, Leo?”

He heard the unspoken request for privacy, so he backed off. “Oddly enough, you and I have that in common. Luc and I were seventeen and eighteen when we lost our parents. Only it was a boating accident. My father loved his nautical toys, and he was addicted to the adrenaline rush of speed. We were in Italy visiting my grandfather one spring break. Dad took a friend’s boat out, just he and my mom. On the way back, he hit a concrete piling at high speed as they were approaching the dock.”

“Oh, my God.” Her hands stilled. “How dreadful.”

He nodded, the memory bleak even after all this time. “Grandfather insisted on having autopsies done. My mother wasn’t wearing a life jacket. She drowned when she was flung into the water. I took comfort in the fact that she was probably unconscious when she died, because she had a severe head wound.”

“And your father?”

Leo swallowed. “He had a heart attack. That’s what caused him to lose control of the boat.” Repeating the words stirred something dark and ugly in his gut. To know that he was his father’s son had never pained him more than in the past few months.

Phoebe put a hand on his arm. “But wasn’t he awfully young?”

“Forty-one.”

“Oh, Leo. I’m so very sorry.”

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. After the funerals, Grandfather took Luc and I back to Italy to live with him. He insisted we attend college in Rome. Some would say we were lucky to have had such an education, but we were miserable for a long time. Our grief was twofold, of course. On top of that, Grandfather is not an easy man to love.” He hesitated for a moment. “I don’t tell many people that story, but you understand what it feels like to have the rug ripped out from under your feet.”

“I do indeed. My parents were wonderful people. They always encouraged Dana and me to go for any goal we wanted. Never any question of it being too hard or not a girl thing. Losing them changed our lives.”

Silence fell like a pall. Leo tugged at her braid. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take us down such a dismal path.”

She rested her head against his hand. “It’s hard not to think of family at this time of year, especially the ones we’ve lost. I’m glad you’re here, Leo.”


Ten (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

She wasn’t sure who initiated the intimate contact. Their lips met briefly, sweetly. The taste of him was as warm and comfortable as a summer rain. She felt the erotic river of molten lava hidden just beneath the surface, but as if by unspoken consent, the kiss remained soft and easy.

Leaning into him, she let herself be bolstered by his strength. One big arm supported her back. He was virile and sexy. She couldn’t be blamed for wanting more. “Leo,” she muttered.

All she said was his name, but she felt the shudder that ran through him. “What?” he asked hoarsely. “What, Phoebe?”

A million different answers hovered at the tip of her tongue.

Undress me. Touch my bare skin. Make love to me. Instead, she managed to be sensible. “Let me put some music on to get us in the mood for decorating.”

“I am in the mood,” he grumbled. But he smiled when he said it and kissed the tip of her nose. Then he sobered. “To be absolutely clear, I want you in my bed, tonight, Phoebe. When the little man is sound asleep and not likely to interrupt us.”

His eyes were dark chocolate, sinful and rich and designed to make a woman melt into their depths. She stared at him, weighing the risks. As a financial speculator, she played hunches and often came out on top. But taking Leo as a lover was infinitely more dangerous.

He was here only for a short while. And though Phoebe had made peace with her demons and embraced her new lifestyle, she was under no illusions that Leo had done the same. He was anxious to return home. Coming to the mountains had been some sort of penance for him, a healing ritual that he accepted under protest.

Leo would never be content to stagnate. He had too much energy, too much life.

She touched his cheek, knowing that her acquiescence was a forgone conclusion. “Yes. I’d like that, too. And I’m sorry that we can’t be more spontaneous. A new relationship should be hot and crazy and passionate.” Like this morning when you nearly took me standing up. Her pulse tripped and stumbled as her thighs tightened in remembrance.

Leo cupped her hand to his face with one big palm. “It will be, Phoebe, darlin’. Don’t you worry about that.”

* * *

To Phoebe’s surprise and delight, the afternoon became one long, drawn-out session of foreplay. Leo built a fire so high and hot they both had to change into T-shirts to keep cool. Phoebe found a radio station that played classic Christmas songs. She teased Leo unmercifully when she realized he never remembered any of the second verses, and instead made up his own words.

Together, they dug out a collection of balsam-scented candles, lit them and set them on the coffee table. During the summer, the trapped heat in the attic had melted the wax a bit, so the ones that were supposed to be Christmas trees looked more like drunken bushes.

Phoebe laughed. “Perhaps I should just throw them away.”

Leo shook his head. “Don’t do that. They have character.”

“If you say so.” She leaned down and squinted at them. “They look damaged to me. Beyond repair.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

Something in his voice—an odd note—caught her attention. He was staring at the poor trees as if all the answers to life’s great questions lay trapped in green wax.

What did Leo Cavallo know about being damaged? As far as Phoebe could see, he was at the peak of his physical strength and mental acuity. Sleek muscles whispered of his ability to hold a woman...to protect her. And in a contest of wits, she would need to stay on her toes to best him. Intelligence crackled in his eyes and in his repartee.

Leo was the whole package, and Phoebe wanted it all.

Gradually, the room was transformed. With Leo’s assistance, Phoebe hung garland from the mantel and around the doorways, intertwining it with tiny white lights that sparkled and danced even in the daytime. She would have preferred fresh greenery. But with a baby to care for and a cabin to repair, she had to accept her limits.

Leo spent over an hour tacking silver, green and gold snowflakes to the ceiling. Far more meticulous than she would have been, he measured and arranged them until every glittering scrap of foil was perfectly placed. The masculine satisfaction on his face as he stood, neck craned, and surveyed his handiwork amused her, but she was quick to offer the appropriate accolades.

In addition to the misshapen candles, the coffee table now sported a red wool runner appliquéd in reindeer. The Merry Christmas rug she remembered from her home in Charlotte now lay in front of a new door. The kitchen table boasted dark green place mats and settings of Christmas china.

At long last, Leo flopped down on the sofa with a groan. “You really like Christmas, don’t you?”

She joined him, curling into his embrace as naturally as if they were old friends. “I lost the spirit for a few years, but with Teddy here, this time I think it will be pretty magical.” Weighing her words, she finally asked the question she had been dying to have him answer. “What about you, Leo? Your sister-in-law made your reservation for two months. But you’ll go home for the holidays, won’t you?”

Playing lazily with the ends of her braid, he sighed. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Many times in the past six or eight years, Luc and I flew to Italy to be with Grandfather for Christmas. But when Luc and Hattie married the year before last, Grandfather actually came over here, though he swore it wouldn’t be an annual thing, because the trip wore him out. Now, with two little ones, I think Luc and Hattie deserve their own family Christmas.”

“And what about you?”

Leo shrugged. “I’ll have an invitation or two, I’m sure.”

“You could stay here with Teddy and me.” Only when she said the words aloud did she realize how desperately she wanted him to say yes.

He half turned to face her. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Was he serious? She was a single woman caring for a baby that wasn’t hers in a lonely cabin in the woods. “I think we can make room,” she said drily. Without pausing to think of the ramifications, she ran a hand through his thick hair. The color, rich chestnut shot through with dark gold, was far too gorgeous for a man, not really fair at all.

Leo closed his eyes and leaned back, a smile on his face, but fine tension in his body. “That would be nice....” he said, trailing off as though her gentle scalp massage was making it hard to speak.

She put her head on his chest. With only a thin navy T-shirt covering his impressive upper physique, she could hear the steady ka-thud, ka-thud, ka-thud of his heart. “Perhaps we should wait and see how tonight goes,” she muttered. “I’m out of practice, to be honest.” Better he know now than later.

Moving so quickly that she never saw it coming, he took hold of her and placed her beneath him on the sofa, his long, solid frame covering hers as he kissed his way down her throat. One of his legs lodged between her thighs, opening her to the possibility of something reckless. She lifted her hips instinctively. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded.

He found her breasts and took one nipple between his teeth, wetting the fabric of her shirt and bra as he tormented her with a bite that was just short of pain. Fire shot from the place where his mouth touched her all the way to her core. Shivers of pleasure racked her.

Suddenly, Leo reared back, laughing and cursing.

Blankly, she stared up at him, her body at a fever pitch of longing. “What? Tell me, Leo.”

“Listen. The baby’s awake.”

* * *

When a knock sounded at the door minutes later, Leo knew he and Phoebe had narrowly escaped embarrassment on top of sexual frustration. She was out of sight tending to Teddy, so Leo greeted the man at the door with a smile. “Can I help you?”

The old codger in overalls looked him up and down. “Name’s Buford. These sugared pecans is from my wife. She knowed they were Miss Phoebe’s favorite, so she made up an extra batch after she finished the ones for the church bazaar. Will you give ’em to her?”

Leo took the paper sack. “I’d be happy to. She’s feeding the baby a bottle, I think, but she should be finished in a moment. Would you like to come in?”

“Naw. Thanks. Are you the fella that was going to rent the other cabin?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“Don’t be gettin’ any ideas. Miss Phoebe’s pretty popular with the neighbors. We look out fer her.”

“I understand.”

“You best get some extra firewood inside. Gonna snow tonight.”

“Really?” The afternoon sunshine felt more like spring than Christmas.

“Weather changes quicklike around here.”

“Thanks for the warning, Buford.”

With a tip of his cap, the guy ambled away, slid into a rust-covered pickup truck and backed up to turn and return the way he had come.

Leo closed the door. Despite feeling like a sneaky child, he unfolded the top of the sack and stole three sugary pecans.

Phoebe caught him with his hand in the bag...literally. “What’s that?” she asked, patting Teddy on the back to burp him.

Leo chewed and swallowed, barely resisting the urge to grab another handful of nuts. “Your farmer friend, Buford, came by. How old is he anyway?”

“Buford is ninety-eight and his wife is ninety-seven. They were both born in the Great Smoky Mountains before the land became a national park. The house Buford and Octavia now live in is the one he built for her when they married in the early 1930s, just as the Depression was gearing up.”

“A log cabin?”

“Yes. With a couple of rambling additions. They still used an actual outhouse up until the mid-eighties when their kids and grandkids insisted that Buford and Octavia were getting too old to go outside in the dead of winter to do their business.”

“What happened then?”

“The relatives chipped in and installed indoor plumbing.”

“Good Lord.” Leo did some rapid math. “If they married in the early thirties, then—”

“They’ll be celebrating their eightieth anniversary in March.”

“That seems impossible.”

“She was seventeen. Buford one year older. It happened all the time.”

“Not their ages. I mean the part about eighty years together. How can anything last that long?”

“I’ve wondered that myself. After all, even a thirty-five-year marriage is becoming harder to find among my peers’ parents.”

Leo studied Phoebe, trying to imagine her shoulders stooped with age and her beautiful skin lined with wrinkles. She would be lovely still at sixty, and even seventy. But closing in on a hundredth birthday? Could any couple plan on spending 85 percent of an entire life looking at the same face across the breakfast table every morning? It boggled the mind.

Somehow, though, when he really thought about it, he was able see Phoebe in that scenario. She was strong and adaptable and willing to step outside her comfort zone. He couldn’t imagine ever being bored by her. She had a sharp mind and an entertaining sense of humor. Not to mention a body that wouldn’t quit.

Leo, himself, had never fallen in love even once. Relationships, good ones, took time and effort. Until now, he’d never met a woman capable of making him think long term.

Phoebe was another story altogether. He still didn’t fully understand the decision that had brought her to the mountains, but he planned on sticking around at least long enough to find out. She intrigued him, entertained him and aroused him. Perhaps it was their isolation, but he felt a connection that transcended common sense and entered the realm of the heart. He was hazy about what he wanted from her in the long run. But tonight’s agenda was crystal clear.

He desired Phoebe. Deeply. As much and as painfully as a man could hunger for a woman. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, she was going to be his.

* * *

To Phoebe’s eyes, Leo seemed to zone out for a moment. She didn’t feel comfortable demanding an explanation, not even a joking “Penny for your thoughts.” Instead, she tried a distraction. “Teddy is fed and dry and rested at the moment. If we’re going to get a tree, the time is right.”

Leo snapped out of his fog and nodded, staring at the baby. “You don’t think it will be too cold?”

“I have a snowsuit to put on him. That should be plenty of insulation for today. I’ll get the two of us ready. If you don’t mind going out to the shed, you can get the ax. It’s just inside the door.”

“You have an ax?” He was clearly taken aback.

“Well, yes. How else would we cut down a tree?”

“But you told me you haven’t had a Christmas tree since you’ve been here. Why do you need an ax?”

She shrugged. “I split my own wood. Or at least I did in the pre-Teddy days. Now I can’t take the chance that something might happen to me and he’d be in the house helpless. So I pay a high school boy to do it.”

“I’m not sure how wise it is for you to be so isolated and alone. What if you needed help in an emergency?”

“We have 911 access. And I have the landline phone in addition to my cell. Besides, the neighbors aren’t all that far away.”

“But a woman on her own is vulnerable in ways a man isn’t.”

She understood what he wasn’t saying. And she’d had those same conversations with herself in the beginning. Sleeping had been difficult for a few months. Her imagination had run wild, conjuring up rapists and murderers and deviants like the Unabomber looking for places to hide out in her neck of the woods.

Eventually, she had begun to accept that living in the city carried the same risks. The only difference being that they were packaged differently.

“I understand what you’re saying,” Phoebe said. “And yes, there have been nights, like the recent storm for instance, when I’ve questioned my decision to live here. But I decided over time that the benefits outweigh the negatives, so I’ve stayed.”

Leo looked as if he wanted to argue the point, but in the end, he shook his head, donned his gear and left.

It took longer than she expected to get the baby and herself ready to brave the outdoors. That had been the biggest surprise about keeping Teddy. Everything about caring for him was twice as complicated and time-consuming as she had imagined. Finally, though, she was getting the hang of things, and already, she could barely remember her life without the little boy.


Eleven (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

It was the perfect day for an excursion. Since men were still working at the cabin removing the last of the tree debris and getting ready to cover the whole structure with a heavy tarp, Phoebe turned in the opposite direction, walking side by side with Leo back down the road to a small lane which turned off to the left and meandered into the forest.

She had fastened Teddy into a sturdy canvas carrier with straps that crisscrossed at her back. Walking was her favorite form of exercise, but it took a quarter mile to get used to the extra weight on her chest. She kept her hand under Teddy’s bottom. His body was comfortable and warm nestled against her.

Leo carried the large ax like it weighed nothing at all, when Phoebe knew for a fact that the wooden-handled implement was plenty heavy. He seemed pleased to be out of the house, whistling an off-key tune as they strode in amicable silence.

The spot where she hoped to find the perfect Christmas tree was actually an old home site, though only remnants of the foundation and the chimney remained. Small weather-roughened headstones nearby marked a modest family cemetery. Some of the writing on the stones was still legible, including several that read simply, Beloved Baby. It pained her to think of the tragic deaths from disease in those days.

But she had suffered more than her share of hurt. She liked to think she understood a bit of what those families had faced.

Leo frowned, seeing the poignant evidence of human lives loved and lost. “Does this belong to you?” The wind soughed in the trees, seeming to echo chattering voices and happy laughter of an earlier day.

“As much as you can own a graveyard, I guess. It’s on my property. But if anyone ever showed up to claim this place, I would give them access, of course. If descendants exist, they probably don’t even know this is here.”

One of the infant markers caught his attention. “I can’t imagine losing a child,” he said, his expression grim. “I see how much Luc and Hattie love their two, and even though I’m not a parent, sometimes it terrifies me to think of all the things that happen in the world today.”

“Will you ever want children of your own?” Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that his answer was very important to her.

He squatted and brushed leaves away from the base of the small lichen-covered stone. “I doubt it. I don’t have the time, and frankly, it scares the hell out of me.” Looking up at her, his smile was wry. But despite the humor, she realized he was telling the absolute truth.

Her stomach tightened in disappointment. “You’re still young.”

“The business is my baby. I’m content to let Luc carry on the family lineage.”

Since she had no answer to that, the subject lapsed, but she knew she had been given fair warning. Not from any intentional ultimatum on Leo’s part. The problem was, Phoebe had allowed her imagination to begin weaving fantasies. Along the way, her heart, once broken but well on the way to recovery, had decided to participate.

The result was an intense and sadly dead-end infatuation with Leo Cavallo.

She stroked Teddy’s hair, smiling to see the interest he demonstrated in his surroundings. He was a happy, inquisitive baby. Since the day he was born, she had loved him terribly. But this time alone, just the two of them, and now with Leo, had cemented his place in her heart. Having to return him to his parents was going to be a dreadful wrench. The prospect was so dismal, she forced the thought away. Much more of this, and she was going to start quoting an infamous Southern belle. I’ll think about that tomorrow.

Leo stood and stretched, rolling his shoulders, the ax on the ground propped against his hip. “I’m ready. Show me which one.”

“Don’t be silly. We have to make a careful decision.”

“This is the world’s biggest Christmas tree farm. I’d say you won’t have too much trouble. How about that one right there?” He pointed at a fluffy cedar about five feet tall.

“Too small and the wrong variety. I’ll know when I see it.”

Leo took her arm and steered her toward a grouping of evergreens. “Anything here grab your fancy?”

She and Leo were both encased in layers of winter clothes. But she fancied she could feel the warmth of his fingers on her skin. A hundred years ago, Leo would have worked from dawn to dusk, providing for his family. At night, when the children were asleep in the loft, she could see him making love to his wife on a feather tick mattress in front of the fire. Entering her, Phoebe, with a fire, a passion he had kept banked during the daylight hours. Saving those special moments of intimacy for the dark of night.

Wishing she could peel out of her coat, she stripped off her gloves and removed her scarf. The image of a more primitive Leo was so real, her breasts ached for his touch. She realized she had worn too many clothes. The day was warm for a winter afternoon. And thoughts of Leo’s expertise in bed made her feel as if she had a fever.

She cleared her throat, hoping he wouldn’t notice the hot color that heated her neck and cheeks. “Give me a second.” Pretending an intense interest in the grouping of trees, she breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of the fresh foliage. “This one,” she said hoarsely, grabbing blindly at the branches of a large Fraser fir.

At her back, Leo stood warm and tall. “I want you to have your perfect Christmas, Phoebe. But as the voice of reason I have to point out that your choice is a little on the big side.” He put his hands on her shoulders, kissing her just below the ear. “If it’s what you want, though, I’ll trim it or something.”

She nodded, her legs shaky. “Thank you.”

He set her aside gently, and picked up the ax. “Move farther back. I don’t know how far the wood chips will fly.”

Teddy had dozed off, his chubby cheeks a healthy pink. She kept her arms around him as Leo notched the bottom of the tree trunk and took a few practice chops. At the last minute, he shed his heavy parka, now clad above the waist in only a thermal weave shirt, green to match his surroundings.

It was ridiculous to get so turned on by a Neanderthal exhibition of strength. But when Leo took his first powerful swing and the ax cut deeply into the tree, Phoebe felt a little faint.

* * *

Leo was determined to make Phoebe happy. The trunk of this particular fir was never going to fit into a normal-size tree stand. He’d have to cobble something together with a large bucket and some gravel. Who knew? At the moment, his first task was to fell the sucker and drag it home.

At his fifth swing, he felt a twinge in his chest. The feeling was so unexpected and so sharp, he hesitated half a second, long enough for the ax to lose its trajectory and land out of target range. Now, one of the lower branches was about two feet shorter than it had been.

Phoebe, standing a good ten feet away, called out to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Tree chopping was damned hard work. Knowing that her eyes were on him, he found his stride again, landing four perfect strikes at exactly the same spot. The pain in his chest had already disappeared. Probably just a muscle. His doctor had reassured him more than once that Leo’s health was perfect. Trouble was, when a man had been felled by something he couldn’t see, it made him jumpy.

Before severing the trunk completely, he paused before the last swing and tugged the tree to one side. The fragrance of the branches was alluring. Crisp. Piquant. Containing memories of childhood days long forgotten. Something about scent leaped barriers of time and place.

Standing here in the forest with sap on his hands and his muscles straining from exertion, he felt a wave of nostalgia. He turned to Phoebe. “I’m glad you wanted to do this. I remember Christmases when I begged for a real tree. But my dad was allergic. Our artificial trees were always beautiful—Mom had a knack for that—but just now, a whiff of the air brought it all back. It’s the smell of the holidays.”

“I’m glad you approve,” she said with a charming grin. Standing as she was in a splash of sunlight, her hair glistened with the sheen of a raven’s wing. The baby slept against her breast. Leo wondered what it said about his own life that he envied a little kid. Phoebe’s hand cradled Teddy’s head almost unconsciously. Every move she made to care for her sister’s child spoke eloquently of the love she had for her nephew.

Phoebe should have kids of her own. And a husband. The thought hit him like a revelation, and he didn’t know why it was startling. Most women Phoebe’s age were looking to settle down and start families. But maybe she wasn’t. Because, clearly, she had hidden herself away like the unfortunate heroine in Rapunzel’s castle. Only in Phoebe’s case, the incarceration was voluntary.

Why would a smart, attractive woman isolate herself in an out-of-the-way cabin where her nearest neighbors were knocking on heaven’s door? When was the last time she’d had a date? Nothing about Phoebe’s life made sense, especially since she had admitted to working once upon a time in a highly competitive career.

A few thin clouds had begun to roll in, dropping the temperature, so he chopped one last time and had the satisfaction of hearing the snap that freed their prize. Phoebe clapped softly. “Bravo, Paul Bunyan.”

He donned his coat and lifted an eyebrow. “Are you making fun of me?”

She joined him beside the tree and reached up awkwardly to kiss his cheek, the baby tucked between them. “Not even a little. You’re my hero. I couldn’t have done this on my own.”

“Happy to oblige.” Her gratitude warmed him. But her next words gave him pause.

“If we eat dinner early, we can probably get the whole thing decorated before bedtime.”

“Whoa. Back up the truck. I thought we had plans for bedtime.” He curled a hand behind her neck and stopped her in her tracks by the simple expedient of kissing her long and slow. Working around the kid was a challenge, but he was motivated.

Phoebe’s lashes fluttered downward as she leaned into him. “We do,” she whispered. The fact that she returned his kiss was noteworthy, but even more gratifying was her enthusiasm. She went up on tiptoes, aligned their lips perfectly and kissed him until he shuddered and groaned. “Good Lord, Phoebe.”

She smoothed a strand of hair behind his ear, her fingers warm against his chilled skin. “Are you complaining, Mr. Cavallo?”

“No,” he croaked.

“Then let’s get crackin’.”

Even though Phoebe carried a baby, and had been for some time, Leo was equally challenged by the difficulty of dragging the enormous tree, trunk first, back to the house. He walked at the edge of the road in the tall, dead grass, not wanting to shred the branches on gravel. By the time they reached their destination, he was breathing hard. “I think this thing weighs a hundred pounds.”

Phoebe looked over her shoulder, her smile wickedly teasing. “I’ve seen your biceps, Leo. I’m sure you can bench-press a single measly tree.” She unlocked the front door and propped it open. “I’ve already cleared a spot by the fireplace. Let me know if you need a hand.”

* * *

Phoebe couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. Leo was a good sport. Chopping down the large tree she had selected was not an easy task, but he hadn’t complained. If anything, he seemed to get a measure of satisfaction from conquering O Tannenbaum.

Phoebe unashamedly used Teddy as a shield for the rest of the day. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be alone with Leo. But there was something jarring about feeling such wanton, breathless excitement for a man when she was, at the same time, cuddling a little baby.

It would probably be different if the child were one they shared. Then, over Teddy’s small, adorable head, she and Leo could exchanges smiles and loving glances as they remembered the night they created this precious bundle of joy. With no such scenario in existence, Phoebe decided her feelings were fractured...much like the time she’d had a high school babysitting job interrupted by the arrival of her boyfriend. That long-ago night as a sixteen-year-old, it had been all she could do to concentrate on her charges.

Almost a decade and a half later, with Leo prowling the interior of the cabin, all grumpy and masculine and gorgeous, she felt much the same way. Nevertheless, she focused on entertaining her nephew.

Fortunately, the baby was in an extremely good mood. He played in his high chair while Phoebe threw dinner together. Thanks to the largesse of Leo’s buddy—which Leo no doubt cofunded—it was no trouble to pick and choose. Chicken Alfredo. Spinach salad. Fruit crepes for dessert. It would be easy to get spoiled by having haute cuisine at her fingertips with minimal effort. She would have to resist, though. Because, like Leo’s presence in her life, the four-star meals were temporary.

Leo, after much cursing and struggling, and with a dollop of luck, finally pronounced himself satisfied with the security of their Christmas pièce de résistance. After changing the baby’s diaper, Phoebe served up two plates and set them on the table. “Hurry, then. Before it gets cold.”

Leo sat down with a groan. “Wouldn’t matter to me. I’m starving.”

She ended up sitting Teddy in his high chair and feeding him his bottle with one hand while she ate with the other. At the end of the meal, she scooped Teddy up and held him out to Leo. “If you wouldn’t mind playing with him on the sofa for a little while, I’ll clean up the kitchen, and we can start on the tree.”

A look of discomfort crossed Leo’s face. “I’m more of an observer when it comes to babies. I don’t think they like me.”

“Don’t be silly, Leo. And besides, you did offer to help with Teddy when I let you stay. Remember?”

He picked up his coat. “Buford says it’s going to snow tonight. I need to move half of that pile of wood you have out by the shed and stack it on the front porch. If it’s a heavy snow, we might lose power.” Before Phoebe could protest, he bundled up in his winter gear and was gone.

Phoebe felt the joy leach out of the room. She wanted Leo to love Teddy like she did, but that was silly. Leo had his own family, a brother, a sister-in-law, a niece, a nephew and a grandfather. Besides, he’d been pretty clear about not wanting kids. Some people didn’t get all warm and fuzzy when it came to infants.

Still, she felt a leaden sense of disappointment. Leo was a wonderful man. Being squeamish about babies was hardly a character flaw.

She put Teddy back in the high chair. “Sorry, kiddo. Looks like it’s you and me on KP duty tonight. I’ll be as quick as I can, and then I’ll read you a book. How about that?”

Teddy found the loose end of the safety strap and chewed it. His little chortling sounds and syllables were cute, but hardly helpful when it came to the question of Leo.

Tonight was a big bridge for Phoebe to cross. She was ready. She wanted Leo, no question. But she couldn’t help feeling anxiety about the future. In coming to the mountains, she had learned to be alone. Would agreeing to be Leo’s lover negate all the progress she had made? And would ultimately losing him—as she surely would—put her back in that dark place again?

Even with all her questions, tonight’s outcome was a forgone conclusion. Leo was her Christmas present to herself.


Twelve (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Leo pushed himself hard, carrying five or six heavy logs at a time. He took Buford’s warning seriously, but the real reason he was out here was because staying in the cabin with Phoebe was torture. It was one thing to casually say, “We’ll wait until bedtime.” It was another entirely to keep himself reined in.

Every time she bent over to do something with the baby or to put something in the oven, her jeans cupped a butt that was the perfect size for a man’s hands to grab hold of. The memory of her naked breasts lodged in his brain like a continuous, R-rated movie reel.

Earlier, he had called Luc, explaining the isolation of Phoebe’s cabin and promising to stay in touch. His new phone should arrive in the morning, and the satellite internet would be set up, as well. By bedtime tomorrow night, Leo would be plugged in, all of his electronic devices at his fingertips. A very short time ago, that notion would have filled him with satisfaction and a sense of being on track. Not today. Now he could think of nothing but taking Phoebe to bed.

When he had a healthy stack of logs tucked just outside the front door in easy reach, he knew it was time to go in and face the music. His throat was dry. His heart pounded far harder than warranted by his current task. But the worst part was his semipermanent erection. He literally ached all over...wanting Phoebe. Needing her with a ferocious appetite that made him grateful to be a man with a beating heart.

He told himself he was close to having everything he craved. All he had to do was make it through the evening. But he was jittery with arousal. Testosterone charged through his bloodstream like a devil on his shoulder. Urging him on to stake a claim. Dismissing the need for gentleness.

Phoebe was his for the taking. She’d told him as much. A few more hours, and everything he wanted would be his.

* * *

Phoebe moved the portable crib into the living room near the fireplace, on the opposite side from the tree. Her hope was that Teddy would amuse himself for a while. He’d been fed, changed, and was now playing happily with several of his favorite teething toys.

When Leo came through the door on a blast of cold air, her stomach flipped. She’d given herself multiple lectures on remaining calm and cool. No need for him to know how agitated she was about the evening to come. Her giddiness was an odd mixture of anticipation and reservation.

Never in her life had she been intimate with a man of whom she knew so little. And likewise, never had she contemplated sex with someone for recreational purposes. She and Leo were taking advantage of a serendipitous place and time. Neither of them made any pretense that this was more. No passionate declarations of love. No tentative plans for the future.

Just sex.

Did that cheapen what she felt for him?

As he removed his coat and boots, she stared. The look in his eyes was hot and predatory. A shiver snaked down her spine. Leo was a big man, both in body and in personality. His charisma seduced her equally as much as his honed, masculine body.

She licked her lips, biting the lower one. “Um...there’s hot chocolate on the stove. I made the real stuff. Seemed appropriate.”

He rubbed his hands together, his cheeks ruddy from the cold. “Thanks.”

The single syllable was gruff. Phoebe knew then, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Leo was as enmeshed in whatever was happening between them as she was. The knowledge settled her nerves. She had been afraid of seeming gauche or awkward. Leo’s intensity indicated that he was perhaps as off balance as she felt.

As he poured his drink, she expected him to come sit on the sofa. Instead, he lingered in the kitchen. She dragged a large red plastic tub nearer the tree. “If you’ll do the lights, I’ll sort through the ornaments and put hangers on them so that part will go quickly.”

He set his mug in the sink. “Lights?”

She shot him an innocent look. “It’s the man’s job. Always.”

“And if there were no man around?”

“I’d have to handle it. But I’m sure the tree would not look nearly as pretty.”

Finally, he joined her, his body language somewhat more relaxed. “You are so full of it,” he said with a fake glower as he bent and picked up the first strand. “You realize, don’t you, that many people buy pre-lit trees these days.”

“True.” She plugged in the extension cord and handed him the end. “But not live ones. Think how proud you’re going to be when we’re finished, how satisfied with a job well done.”

Tugging her braid, he deliberately brushed the backs of his fingers down her neck. “I’m a long way from satisfied.” His chocolate-scented breath was warm on her cheek. If she turned her head an inch or two, their lips would meet.

She closed her eyes involuntarily, her body weak with longing. Leo had to know what he was doing to her. And judging by the smirk on his face when she finally managed to look at him, he was enjoying her discomfiture.

Turnabout was fair play. “Good things come to those who wait,” she whispered. She stroked a hand down the middle of his rib cage, stopping just above his belt buckle.

Leo sucked in a sharp breath as his hands clenched on her shoulders. “Phoebe...”

“Phoebe, what?” Toying with the hem of his shirt, she lifted it and touched his bare skin with two fingertips. Teasing him like this was more fun than she could have imagined. Her long-buried sensual side came out to play. Taking one step closer so that their bodies touched chest to knee, she laid her cheek against him, hearing the steady, though rapid, beat of his heart.

Between them, she felt the press of his erection, full and hard, at her stomach. For so long she had hidden from the richness of life, afraid of making another tragic misstep. But one lesson she had learned well. No matter how terrible the mistake and how long the resultant fall, the world kept on turning.

Leo might well be her next blunder. But at least she was living. Feeling. Wanting. Her emotions had begun to thaw with the advent of Teddy. Leo’s arrival in the midst of her reawakening had been fortuitous. Six months ago, she would not have had the courage to act on her attraction.

Now, feeling the vestiges of her grief slide into the realm of the past, her heart swelled with joy in the realization that the Phoebe Kemper she had once known was still alive. It had been a long road. And she didn’t think she would ever want to go back and reclaim certain remnants of that woman’s life.

But she was ready to move forward. With Leo.

He set her away from him, his expression strained. “Give me the damn lights.”

* * *

Leo was at sixes and sevens, his head muddled with a million thoughts, his body near crippled with desire. Fortunately for him, Phoebe was the meticulous sort. There were no knots of wire to untangle. Every strand of lights had been neatly wrapped around pieces of plywood before being stored away. He sensed that this Christmas decorating ritual was far more important to Phoebe than perhaps he realized. So despite his mental and physical discomfort, he set his mind to weaving lights in amongst the branches.

Phoebe worked nearby, unwrapping tissue-wrapped ornaments, discarding broken ones, tending to Teddy now and again. Music played softly in the background. One tune in particular he recognized. He had always enjoyed the verve and tempo of the popular modern classic by Mariah Carey. But not until this exact minute had he understood the songwriter’s simple message.

Some things were visceral. It was true. He needed no other gift but Phoebe. When a man was rich enough to buy anything he wanted, the act of exchanging presents took on new meaning. He had always given generously to his employees. And he and Luc knew each other well enough to come up with the occasional surprise gift that demonstrated thought and care.

But he couldn’t remember a Christmas when he’d been willing to strip the holiday down to its basic component. Love.

His mind shied away from that thought. Surely a man of his age and experience and sophistication didn’t believe in love at first sight. The heart attack had left him floundering, grasping at things to stay afloat in a suddenly changing world. Phoebe was here. And it was almost Christmas. He wanted her badly. No need to tear the situation apart with questions.

He finished the last of the lights and dragged one final tub over to the edge of the coffee table so he could sit and sift through the contents. Though the tree was large, he wasn’t sure they were going to be able to fit everything on the limbs.

Spying a small, unopened green box, he picked it up and turned it over. Visible through the clear plastic covering was a sterling sliver rocking horse with the words Baby’s First Christmas engraved on the base. And a date. An old date. His stomach clenched.

When he looked up, Phoebe was staring at the item in his hands, her face ashen. Cursing himself for not moving more quickly to tuck it out of sight, he stood, not knowing what to say. A dozen theories rushed through his mind. But only one made sense.

Tears rolled from Phoebe’s huge pain-darkened eyes, though he was fairly certain she didn’t know she was crying. It was as if she had frozen, sensing danger, not sure where to run.

He approached her slowly, his hands outstretched. “Phoebe, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Her eyes were uncomprehending...even when she wiped one wet cheek with the back of her hand.

“Let me see it,” she whispered, walking toward the tub of ornaments.

He put his body in front of hers, cupping her face in his hands. “No. It doesn’t matter. You’re shaking.” Wrapping his arms around her and holding her as tightly as he could, he tried to still the tremors that tore through her body cruelly.

Phoebe never weakened. She stood erect, not leaning into him, not accepting his comfort. He might as well have been holding a statue. At last, he stepped back, staring into her eyes. “Let me get you a drink.”

“No.” She wiped her nose.

Leo reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and handed it to her. He was torn, unsure if talking about it would make things better or worse. As he stood there, trying to decide how to navigate the chasm that had opened at his feet, the fraught moment was broken by a baby’s cry.

Phoebe whirled around. “Oh, Teddy. We were ignoring you.” She rushed to pick him up, holding him close as new tears wet her lashes. “It’s your bedtime, isn’t it, my sweet? Don’t worry. Aunt Phoebe is here.”

Leo tried to take the boy. “You need to sit down, Phoebe.” He was fairly certain she was in shock. Her hands were icy cold and her lips had a blue tinge.

Phoebe fought him. “No. You don’t like babies. I can do it.”

The belligerence in her wild gaze shocked him, coming as it did out of nowhere. “I never said that.” He spoke softly, as though gentling a spooked animal. “Let me help you.”

Ignoring his plea, she exited the room, Teddy clutched to her chest. He followed the pair of them down the hall and into the baby’s nursery cum storage room. He had never seen this door open. Phoebe always used her own bedroom to access Teddy’s.

She put the child on the changing table and stood there. Leo realized she didn’t know what to do next.

Quietly, not making a fuss, he reached for the little pair of pajamas hanging from a hook on the wall nearby. The diapers were tucked into a cheerful yellow plastic basket at the boy’s feet. Easing Phoebe aside with nothing more than a nudge of his hip, he unfastened what seemed like a hundred snaps, top and bottom, and drew the cloth up over Teddy’s head. Teddy cooed, smiling trustingly as Leo stripped him naked. The baby’s skin was soft, his flailing arms and legs pudgy and strong.

The diaper posed a momentary problem, but only until Leo’s brain clicked into gear and he saw how the assembly worked. Cleaning the little bottom with a baby wipe, he gave thanks that he was only dealing with a wet diaper, not a messy one.

Phoebe hadn’t moved. Her hands were clenched on the decorative edge of the wooden table so hard that her knuckles were white.

Leo closed up the diaper, checked it for structural integrity, and then held up the pajamas. He couldn’t really see much difference between these pj’s and the daytime outfits the kid wore, but apparently there was one. This piece of clothing was even more of a challenge, because the snaps ran from the throat all the way down one leg. It took him three tries to get it right.

Through it all, Phoebe stood unaware. Or at least it seemed that way.

Cradling the child in one arm, Leo used his free hand to steer Phoebe out of the room. “You’ll have to help me with the bottle,” he said softly, hoping she was hearing him.

Her brief nod was a relief.

Leo installed Phoebe in a kitchen chair. Squatting in front of her, he waited until her eyes met his. “Can you hold him?”

She took the small, squirmy bundle and bowed her head, teardrops wetting the front of the sleeper. “I have a bottle ready,” she said, the words almost inaudible. “Put it in a bowl of hot water two or three times until the formula feels warm when you sprinkle it on your wrist.”

He had seen her perform that task several times, so it was easy to follow the instructions. When the bottle was ready, he turned back to Phoebe. Her grip on Teddy was firm. The child was in no danger of being dropped. But Phoebe had ceased interacting with her nephew.

Leo put a hand on her shoulder. “Would you like to feed him, or do you want me to do it? I’m happy to.”

Long seconds ticked by. Phoebe stood abruptly, handing him the baby. “You can. I’m going to my room.”

He grabbed her wrist. “No. You’re not. Come sit with us on the sofa.”


Thirteen (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Phoebe didn’t have the emotional energy to fight him. Leo’s gaze was kind but firm. She followed him to the living room and sat down with her legs curled beneath her. Leo sat beside her with Teddy in his arms. Fortunately, Teddy didn’t protest the change in leadership. He took his bottle from Leo as if it were an everyday occurrence.

Despite the roaring fire that Leo had built, which still leaped and danced vigorously, she felt cold all over. Clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, she wished she had thought to pick up an afghan. But the pile neatly folded on the hearth was too far away. She couldn’t seem to make her legs move.

Trying to distract her thoughts, she studied Leo out of the corner of her eye. The powerful picture of the big man and the small baby affected her at a gut-deep level. Despite Leo’s professed lack of experience, he was doing well. His large hands were careful as he adjusted Teddy’s position now and again or moved the bottle to a better angle.

Beyond Leo’s knee she could see the abandoned ornaments. But not the little green box. He must have shoved it out of sight beneath the table. She remembered vividly the day she’d purchased it. After leaving her doctor’s office, she was on her way back to work. On a whim, she stopped by the mall to grab a bite of lunch and to walk off some of her giddy euphoria.

It was September, but a Christmas shop had already opened its doors in preparation for the holidays. On a table near the front, a display of ornaments caught her eyes. Feeling crazily joyful and foolishly furtive, she picked one out and paid for it.

Until this evening she had suppressed that memory. In fact, she didn’t even realize she had kept the ornament and moved it three years ago.

Leo wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. “Lean on me,” he said.

She obeyed gladly, inhaling the scent of his aftershave and the warm “man” smell of him. Gradually, lulled by the fire and the utter security of Leo’s embrace, she closed her eyes. Pain hovered just offstage, but she chose not to confront it at the moment. She had believed herself to be virtually healed. As though all the dark edges of her life had been sanded away by her sojourn in the woods.

How terribly unfair to find out it wasn’t true. How devastating to know that something so simple could trip her up.

Perhaps because the afternoon and evening had been so enjoyable, so delightfully homey, the harshness of being thrust into a past she didn’t want to remember was all the more devastating.

Teddy drained the last of the bottle, his little eyelashes drooping. Leo coaxed a muffled burp from him and then put a hand on Phoebe’s knee. “Is it okay for me to lay him down? Anything I need to know?”

“I’ll take him,” she said halfheartedly, not sure if she could make the effort to stand up.

He squeezed her hand. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

She stared into space, barely even noticing when he returned and began moving about the kitchen with muffled sounds. A few minutes later he handed her a mug of cocoa. She wrapped her fingers around the warm stoneware, welcoming the heat against her frozen skin.

Leo had topped her serving with whipped cream. She sipped delicately, wary of burning her tongue.

He sat down beside her and smiled. “You have a mustache,” he teased. Using his thumb, he rubbed her upper lip. Somewhere deep inside her, regret surfaced. She had ruined their sexy, fun-filled evening.

Leo appeared unperturbed. He leaned back, his legs outstretched, and propped his feet on the coffee table. With his mug resting against his chest, he shot her a sideways glance. “When you’re ready, Phoebe, I want you to tell me the story.”

She nodded, her eyes downcast as she studied the pale swirls of melted topping in the hot brown liquid. It was time. It was beyond time. Even her sister didn’t know all the details. When the unthinkable had happened, the pain was too fresh. Phoebe had floundered in a sea of confused grief, not knowing how to claw her way out.

In the end, her only choice had been to wait until the waves abated and finally receded. Peace had eventually replaced the hurt. But her hard-won composure had been fragile at best. Judging by today, she had a long way to go.

Leo got up to stoke the fire and to add more music to the stereo. She was struck by how comfortable it felt to have him in her cabin, in her life. He was an easy man to be with. Quiet when the occasion demanded it, and drolly amusing when he wanted to be.

He settled back onto the couch and covered both of them with a wool throw. Fingering the cloth, he wrinkled his nose. “We should burn this,” he said with a grin. “Imported fabric, cheap construction. I could hook you up with something far nicer.”

“I’ll put it on my Christmas list.” She managed a smile, not wanting him to think she was a total mental case. “I’m sorry I checked out on you,” she muttered.

“We’re all entitled now and then.”

The quiet response took some of the sting out of her embarrassment. He was being remarkably patient. “I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything, sweet Phoebe. But it helps to talk about it. I know that from experience. When our parents were killed, Grandfather was wise enough to get us counseling almost immediately. We would never have shown weakness to him. He was and still is a sharp-browed, blustering tyrant, though we love him, of course. But he knew we would need an outlet for what we were feeling.”

“Did it work?”

“In time. We were at a vulnerable age. Not quite men, but more than boys. It was hard to admit that our world had come crashing down around us.” He took her hand. She had twisted one piece of blanket fringe so tightly it was almost severed. Linking their fingers, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Is that what happened to you?”

Despite her emotional state, she was not above being moved by the feel of his lips against her skin. Hot tears stung her eyes, not because she was so sad, but in simple recognition of his genuine empathy. “You could say that.”

“Tell me about your baby.”

There was nothing to be gained from denial. But he would understand more if she began elsewhere. “I’ll go back to the beginning if you don’t mind.”

“A good place to start.” He kissed her fingers again before tucking her hand against his chest. The warmth of him, even through his clothing, calmed and comforted her.

“I told you that I was a stockbroker in Charlotte.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I was good, really good at my job. There were a half dozen of us, and competition was fierce. Gracious for the most part, but inescapable. I had a knack for putting together portfolios, and people liked working with me, because I didn’t make them feel stupid or uninformed about their money. We had a number of very wealthy clients with neither the time nor the inclination to grow their fortunes, so we did it for them.”

“I’m having a hard time reconciling killer Phoebe with the woman who bakes her own bread.”

His wry observation actually made her laugh. “I can understand your confusion. Back then I focused on getting ahead in my profession. I was determined to be successful and financially comfortable.”





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