One Night Before Christmas: A Billionaire for Christmas / One Night, Second Chance / It Happened One Night

He crouched beside her. “Is she still alive?”

“No. Sadly.”

“And your parents?” He was close enough to brush his lips across the nape of her neck, but he refrained.

Phoebe sank back on her bottom and crossed her legs, working to separate a tangle of glittery silver beads. “My parents were hit by a drunk driver when my sister and I were in high school. A very kind foster family took us in and looked after us until we were able to graduate and get established in college.”

“And since then?”

“Dana and I are very close.”

“No significant others in your past?”

She frowned at the knot that wouldn’t give way. “What about your family, Leo?”

He heard the unspoken request for privacy, so he backed off. “Oddly enough, you and I have that in common. Luc and I were seventeen and eighteen when we lost our parents. Only it was a boating accident. My father loved his nautical toys, and he was addicted to the adrenaline rush of speed. We were in Italy visiting my grandfather one spring break. Dad took a friend’s boat out, just he and my mom. On the way back, he hit a concrete piling at high speed as they were approaching the dock.”

“Oh, my God.” Her hands stilled. “How dreadful.”

He nodded, the memory bleak even after all this time. “Grandfather insisted on having autopsies done. My mother wasn’t wearing a life jacket. She drowned when she was flung into the water. I took comfort in the fact that she was probably unconscious when she died, because she had a severe head wound.”

“And your father?”

Leo swallowed. “He had a heart attack. That’s what caused him to lose control of the boat.” Repeating the words stirred something dark and ugly in his gut. To know that he was his father’s son had never pained him more than in the past few months.

Phoebe put a hand on his arm. “But wasn’t he awfully young?”

“Forty-one.”

“Oh, Leo. I’m so very sorry.”

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. After the funerals, Grandfather took Luc and I back to Italy to live with him. He insisted we attend college in Rome. Some would say we were lucky to have had such an education, but we were miserable for a long time. Our grief was twofold, of course. On top of that, Grandfather is not an easy man to love.” He hesitated for a moment. “I don’t tell many people that story, but you understand what it feels like to have the rug ripped out from under your feet.”

“I do indeed. My parents were wonderful people. They always encouraged Dana and me to go for any goal we wanted. Never any question of it being too hard or not a girl thing. Losing them changed our lives.”

Silence fell like a pall. Leo tugged at her braid. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take us down such a dismal path.”

She rested her head against his hand. “It’s hard not to think of family at this time of year, especially the ones we’ve lost. I’m glad you’re here, Leo.”

Ten

She wasn’t sure who initiated the intimate contact. Their lips met briefly, sweetly. The taste of him was as warm and comfortable as a summer rain. She felt the erotic river of molten lava hidden just beneath the surface, but as if by unspoken consent, the kiss remained soft and easy.

Leaning into him, she let herself be bolstered by his strength. One big arm supported her back. He was virile and sexy. She couldn’t be blamed for wanting more. “Leo,” she muttered.

All she said was his name, but she felt the shudder that ran through him. “What?” he asked hoarsely. “What, Phoebe?”

A million different answers hovered at the tip of her tongue.

Undress me. Touch my bare skin. Make love to me. Instead, she managed to be sensible. “Let me put some music on to get us in the mood for decorating.”

“I am in the mood,” he grumbled. But he smiled when he said it and kissed the tip of her nose. Then he sobered. “To be absolutely clear, I want you in my bed, tonight, Phoebe. When the little man is sound asleep and not likely to interrupt us.”

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.

He half turned to face her. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Was he serious? She was a single woman caring for a baby that wasn’t hers in a lonely cabin in the woods. “I think we can make room,” she said drily. Without pausing to think of the ramifications, she ran a hand through his thick hair. The color, rich chestnut shot through with dark gold, was far too gorgeous for a man, not really fair at all.

Leo closed his eyes and leaned back, a smile on his face, but fine tension in his body. “That would be nice....” he said, trailing off as though her gentle scalp massage was making it hard to speak.

She put her head on his chest. With only a thin navy T-shirt covering his impressive upper physique, she could hear the steady ka-thud, ka-thud, ka-thud of his heart. “Perhaps we should wait and see how tonight goes,” she muttered. “I’m out of practice, to be honest.” Better he know now than later.

Moving so quickly that she never saw it coming, he took hold of her and placed her beneath him on the sofa, his long, solid frame covering hers as he kissed his way down her throat. One of his legs lodged between her thighs, opening her to the possibility of something reckless. She lifted her hips instinctively. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded.

He found her breasts and took one nipple between his teeth, wetting the fabric of her shirt and bra as he tormented her with a bite that was just short of pain. Fire shot from the place where his mouth touched her all the way to her core. Shivers of pleasure racked her.

Suddenly, Leo reared back, laughing and cursing.

Blankly, she stared up at him, her body at a fever pitch of longing. “What? Tell me, Leo.”

“Listen. The baby’s awake.”

* * *

When a knock sounded at the door minutes later, Leo knew he and Phoebe had narrowly escaped embarrassment on top of sexual frustration. She was out of sight tending to Teddy, so Leo greeted the man at the door with a smile. “Can I help you?”

The old codger in overalls looked him up and down. “Name’s Buford. These sugared pecans is from my wife. She knowed they were Miss Phoebe’s favorite, so she made up an extra batch after she finished the ones for the church bazaar. Will you give ’em to her?”

Leo took the paper sack. “I’d be happy to. She’s feeding the baby a bottle, I think, but she should be finished in a moment. Would you like to come in?”

“Naw. Thanks. Are you the fella that was going to rent the other cabin?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“Don’t be gettin’ any ideas. Miss Phoebe’s pretty popular with the neighbors. We look out fer her.”

“I understand.”

“You best get some extra firewood inside. Gonna snow tonight.”

“Really?” The afternoon sunshine felt more like spring than Christmas.

“Weather changes quicklike around here.”

“Thanks for the warning, Buford.”

With a tip of his cap, the guy ambled away, slid into a rust-covered pickup truck and backed up to turn and return the way he had come.

Leo closed the door. Despite feeling like a sneaky child, he unfolded the top of the sack and stole three sugary pecans.

Phoebe caught him with his hand in the bag...literally. “What’s that?” she asked, patting Teddy on the back to burp him.

Leo chewed and swallowed, barely resisting the urge to grab another handful of nuts. “Your farmer friend, Buford, came by. How old is he anyway?”

“Buford is ninety-eight and his wife is ninety-seven. They were both born in the Great Smoky Mountains before the land became a national park. The house Buford and Octavia now live in is the one he built for her when they married in the early 1930s, just as the Depression was gearing up.”

“A log cabin?”

“Yes. With a couple of rambling additions. They still used an actual outhouse up until the mid-eighties when their kids and grandkids insisted that Buford and Octavia were getting too old to go outside in the dead of winter to do their business.”

“What happened then?”

“The relatives chipped in and installed indoor plumbing.”

“Good Lord.” Leo did some rapid math. “If they married in the early thirties, then—”

“They’ll be celebrating their eightieth anniversary in March.”

“That seems impossible.”

“She was seventeen. Buford one year older. It happened all the time.”

“Not their ages. I mean the part about eighty years together. How can anything last that long?”

“I’ve wondered that myself. After all, even a thirty-five-year marriage is becoming harder to find among my peers’ parents.”

Leo studied Phoebe, trying to imagine her shoulders stooped with age and her beautiful skin lined with wrinkles. She would be lovely still at sixty, and even seventy. But closing in on a hundredth birthday? Could any couple plan on spending 85 percent of an entire life looking at the same face across the breakfast table every morning? It boggled the mind.

Somehow, though, when he really thought about it, he was able see Phoebe in that scenario. She was strong and adaptable and willing to step outside her comfort zone. He couldn’t imagine ever being bored by her. She had a sharp mind and an entertaining sense of humor. Not to mention a body that wouldn’t quit.

Leo, himself, had never fallen in love even once. Relationships, good ones, took time and effort. Until now, he’d never met a woman capable of making him think long term.

Phoebe was another story altogether. He still didn’t fully understand the decision that had brought her to the mountains, but he planned on sticking around at least long enough to find out. She intrigued him, entertained him and aroused him. Perhaps it was their isolation, but he felt a connection that transcended common sense and entered the realm of the heart. He was hazy about what he wanted from her in the long run. But tonight’s agenda was crystal clear.

He desired Phoebe. Deeply. As much and as painfully as a man could hunger for a woman. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, she was going to be his.

* * *

To Phoebe’s eyes, Leo seemed to zone out for a moment. She didn’t feel comfortable demanding an explanation, not even a joking “Penny for your thoughts.” Instead, she tried a distraction. “Teddy is fed and dry and rested at the moment. If we’re going to get a tree, the time is right.”

Leo snapped out of his fog and nodded, staring at the baby. “You don’t think it will be too cold?”

“I have a snowsuit to put on him. That should be plenty of insulation for today. I’ll get the two of us ready. If you don’t mind going out to the shed, you can get the ax. It’s just inside the door.”

“You have an ax?” He was clearly taken aback.

“Well, yes. How else would we cut down a tree?”

“But you told me you haven’t had a Christmas tree since you’ve been here. Why do you need an ax?”

She shrugged. “I split my own wood. Or at least I did in the pre-Teddy days. Now I can’t take the chance that something might happen to me and he’d be in the house helpless. So I pay a high school boy to do it.”

“I’m not sure how wise it is for you to be so isolated and alone. What if you needed help in an emergency?”

“We have 911 access. And I have the landline phone in addition to my cell. Besides, the neighbors aren’t all that far away.”

“But a woman on her own is vulnerable in ways a man isn’t.”

She understood what he wasn’t saying. And she’d had those same conversations with herself in the beginning. Sleeping had been difficult for a few months. Her imagination had run wild, conjuring up rapists and murderers and deviants like the Unabomber looking for places to hide out in her neck of the woods.

Eventually, she had begun to accept that living in the city carried the same risks. The only difference being that they were packaged differently.

“I understand what you’re saying,” Phoebe said. “And yes, there have been nights, like the recent storm for instance, when I’ve questioned my decision to live here. But I decided over time that the benefits outweigh the negatives, so I’ve stayed.”

Leo looked as if he wanted to argue the point, but in the end, he shook his head, donned his gear and left.

It took longer than she expected to get the baby and herself ready to brave the outdoors. That had been the biggest surprise about keeping Teddy. Everything about caring for him was twice as complicated and time-consuming as she had imagined. Finally, though, she was getting the hang of things, and already, she could barely remember her life without the little boy.

Eleven

It was the perfect day for an excursion. Since men were still working at the cabin removing the last of the tree debris and getting ready to cover the whole structure with a heavy tarp, Phoebe turned in the opposite direction, walking side by side with Leo back down the road to a small lane which turned off to the left and meandered into the forest.

She had fastened Teddy into a sturdy canvas carrier with straps that crisscrossed at her back. Walking was her favorite form of exercise, but it took a quarter mile to get used to the extra weight on her chest. She kept her hand under Teddy’s bottom. His body was comfortable and warm nestled against her.

Leo carried the large ax like it weighed nothing at all, when Phoebe knew for a fact that the wooden-handled implement was plenty heavy. He seemed pleased to be out of the house, whistling an off-key tune as they strode in amicable silence.

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.”

She nodded, her legs shaky. “Thank you.”

He set her aside gently, and picked up the ax. “Move farther back. I don’t know how far the wood chips will fly.”

Teddy had dozed off, his chubby cheeks a healthy pink. She kept her arms around him as Leo notched the bottom of the tree trunk and took a few practice chops. At the last minute, he shed his heavy parka, now clad above the waist in only a thermal weave shirt, green to match his surroundings.

It was ridiculous to get so turned on by a Neanderthal exhibition of strength. But when Leo took his first powerful swing and the ax cut deeply into the tree, Phoebe felt a little faint.

* * *

Leo was determined to make Phoebe happy. The trunk of this particular fir was never going to fit into a normal-size tree stand. He’d have to cobble something together with a large bucket and some gravel. Who knew? At the moment, his first task was to fell the sucker and drag it home.

At his fifth swing, he felt a twinge in his chest. The feeling was so unexpected and so sharp, he hesitated half a second, long enough for the ax to lose its trajectory and land out of target range. Now, one of the lower branches was about two feet shorter than it had been.