A Billionaire for Christmas(34)
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.”