A Billionaire for Christmas(31)

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.