A Billionaire for Christmas(78)
“It wasn’t that big a deal.” His expression was blank, but his eyes burned with an emotion she couldn’t fathom.
She shivered, her mind a whirl of painful thoughts. He could have died. He could have died. He could have died. And she would never have known him. His humor. His kindness. His incredibly sexy and appealing personality. His big, perfect body.
“Trust me,” she said slowly. “When a man in his thirties has a heart attack, it’s a big freaking deal.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, the line of his mouth grim. “I had a very mild heart attack. A minor blockage. It’s a hereditary thing. I’m extraordinarily healthy. All I have to do now is keep an eye on certain markers.”
As she examined the days in the past week, things kept popping up, memories that made her feel even worse. “Your father,” she whispered. “You said he had a heart attack. And that’s why the boat crashed.”
“Yes.”
“That’s it. Just yes? Did it ever occur to you when you were screwing me that your medical history was information I might have wanted to know? Hell, Leo, I gave you every intimate detail of my past and you couldn’t be bothered to mention something as major as a heart attack?” She knew she was shouting and couldn’t seem to stop. Her heart slammed in her chest.
“I’ve never heard you curse. I don’t like it.”
“Well, that’s just too damn bad.” She stopped short, appalled that she was yelling like a shrew. Hyperventilation threatened. “That’s why you came to my cabin, isn’t it? I thought maybe you’d had a bad case of the flu. Or complications from pneumonia. Or even, God forbid, a mental breakdown of some sort. But a heart attack…” Her legs gave out, and she sank back into the chair, feeling disappointed and angry and, beneath it all, so scared for him. “Why didn’t you tell me, Leo? Why couldn’t you trust me with the truth? Surely I deserved that much consideration.”
But then it struck her. He hadn’t shared the intimate details of his illness with her because she didn’t matter. The bitter realization sat like a stone in her stomach. Leo had kept his secrets, because when all was said and done, Phoebe was nothing more than a vacation romance of sorts. Leo wasn’t serious about any kind of a future with her. He fully planned to return to his old life and take up where he left off. As soon as his doctor gave permission.
He came to her then, sat on the ottoman and put a hand on her leg. “It wasn’t something I could easily talk about, Phoebe. Try to understand that. I was a young man. One minute I was standing in a room, doing my job, and the next I couldn’t breathe. Strangers were rushing me out to an ambulance. It was a hellish experience. All I wanted to do was forget.”
“But you didn’t want to come to the mountains.”
“No. I didn’t. My doctor, who happens to be a good friend, and my brother, who I consider my best friend, gave me no choice. I was supposed to learn how to control my stress levels.”
She swallowed, wishing he wasn’t touching her. The warmth of his hand threatened to dissolve the fragile hold she had on her emotions. “We had sex, Leo. To me, that’s pretty intimate. But I can see in retrospect that I was just a piece of your convalescent plan, not dictated by your doctor friend, I’m sure. Did it even cross your mind to worry about that?”
He hesitated, and she knew she had hit a nerve.
She saw him swallow. He ran a hand through his hair, unintentionally betraying his agitation. “The first time I was with you…in that way, I hadn’t had sex since my heart attack. And to be honest, not for several months before that. Do you want me to tell you I was scared shitless? Is that going to make you feel better?”