A Billionaire for Christmas(80)
The magnitude of his failure was humbling. But as long as there was life, there was hope.
* * *
At his request, she consented to stay for the party. He knew she had booked a flight home for the following morning, because he had eavesdropped unashamedly at her door while she made the reservation.
When she appeared in the foyer at a quarter ’til seven that evening, his heart stopped. But this time he recognized the interruption. A lightning bolt of passion or lust or maybe nothing more complicated than need shattered his composure.
She wore a dress that many women would avoid for fear they couldn’t carry it off. The fabric was red. An intense crimson that spoke for itself. And Phoebe hadn’t been teasing when she described it. Cut low in the back and the front and high on the leg, it fit her as if it had been created with exactly her body in mind.
Stiletto heels in matte black leather put her almost on eye level with him. As equals.
Her hair was stunning. She had braided two tiny sections from the front and wound them at her crown. The rest cascaded in a sleek fall halfway down her back. On her right upper arm she wore a three-inch wide hammered silver band. Matching earrings dangled and caught the light.
He cleared his throat. “You look sensational.”
“Thank you.” Her expression was as remote as the Egyptian queen she resembled.
He had hoped tonight to strengthen the connection between them by showing her a slice of his life. His family. His employees. The way the company was built on trust and integrity. But now there was this chasm between Phoebe and him.
He hated the emotional distance, but he would use their physical attraction to fight back, to get through to her, if he had to. She had accused him of not taking his recovery seriously, but by God, he was serious now. His future hung in the balance. Everything he had worked for up until this point was rendered valueless. Without Phoebe’s love and trust, he had nothing.
* * *
Fortunately his brother’s home was close…on West Paces Ferry Road, an old and elegant established neighborhood for Atlanta’s wealthy and powerful. But Luc and Hattie had made their home warm and welcoming amidst its elegant personality, a place where children could run and play, though little Luc Jr. was still too small for that.
Leo handed the keys of his Jag to the attendant and helped Phoebe out of the car. The college kid’s eyes glazed over as he caught a glimpse of Phoebe’s long, toned legs. Glaring at the boy, Leo wrapped her faux fur stole around her shoulders and ushered her toward the house.
Every tree and bush on the property had been trimmed in tiny white lights. Fragrant greenery festooned with gold bows wrapped lampposts and wrought-iron porch rails.
Phoebe paused on the steps, taking it all in. “I love this place,” she said simply. “It feels like a classy Southern lady.”
“Luc and Hattie will probably be at the door greeting their guests, but perhaps we can sit down with them later and catch up.” The timing was off. Phoebe was leaving in the morning, and their relationship was dead in the water, but he still wanted her to meet his brother.
* * *
As it turned out, Leo was correct. His dashing brother took one look at Leo and wrestled him into a long bear hug that brought tears to Phoebe’s eyes. Leo’s sister-in-law wore the very same expression as she watched the two men embrace. Both brothers wore classic formal attire, and in their tuxes, they were incredibly dashing, almost like old film stars with their chiseled features.