A Billionaire for Christmas(37)

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





Twelve



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.