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

Were they at an impasse? Would he give up?

She glanced at Teddy, sleeping so peacefully. Babies were an important part of life, but it was a sad day when a grown woman’s life was so devoid of male companionship that a nonverbal infant was stimulating company. “I’ll make a deal with you,” she said slowly, wondering if she were crazy. “You tell me why you really want to stay, and I’ll consider your request.”

For the first time, she saw discomfort on Leo’s face. He was one of those consummately confident men who strode through life like a captain on the bridge of his ship, everyone in his life bowing and scraping in his wake. But at the moment, a mask slipped and she caught a glimpse of vulnerability. “What did my sister-in-law tell you when she made the reservation?”

A standard ploy. Answering a question with a question. “She said you’d been ill. Nothing more than that. But in all honesty, you hardly look like a man at death’s door.”

Leo’s smile held a note of self-mockery. “Thank God for that.”

Curiouser and curiouser. “Now that I think about it,” she said, trying to solve the puzzle as she went along, “you don’t seem like the kind of man who takes a two-month sabbatical in the mountains for any reason. Unless, of course, you’re an artist or a songwriter. Maybe a novelist? Am I getting warm?”

Leo grimaced, not quite meeting her gaze. “I needed a break,” he said. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

Something in his voice touched her...some note of discouragement or distress. And in that moment, she felt a kinship with Leo Cavallo. Hadn’t she embraced this land and built these two cabins for that very reason? She’d been disillusioned with her job and heartbroken over the demise of her personal life. The mountains had offered healing.

“Okay,” she said, capitulating without further ado. “You can stay. But if you get on my nerves or drive me crazy, I am well within my rights to kick you out.”

He grinned, his expression lightening. “Sounds fair.”

“And I charge a thousand dollars a week more if you expect to share meals with me.”

It was a reckless barb, an attempt to get a rise out of him. But Leo merely nodded his head, eyes dancing. “Whatever you say.” Then he sobered. “Thank you, Phoebe. I appreciate your hospitality.”

The baby stirred, breaking the odd bubble of intimacy that had enclosed the room. Phoebe scooped up little Teddy and held him to her chest, suddenly feeling the need for a barrier between herself and the charismatic Leo Cavallo. “We’ll say good night, then.”

Her houseguest nodded, eyes hooded as he stared at the baby. “Sleep well. And if you hear me up in the night, don’t be alarmed. I’ve had a bit of insomnia recently.”

“I could fix you some warm milk,” she said, moving toward the door.

“I’ll be fine. See you in the morning.”

* * *

Leo watched her leave and felt a pinch of remorse for having pressured her into letting him invade her home. But not so much that he was willing to leave. In Atlanta everyone had walked on eggshells around him, acting as if the slightest raised voice or cross word would send him into a relapse. Though his brother, Luc, tried to hide his concern, it was clear that he and Hattie were worried about Leo. And as dear as they both were to him, Leo needed a little space to come to terms with what had happened.

His first instinct was to dive back into work. But the doctor had flatly refused to release him. This mountain getaway was a compromise. Not an idea Leo would have embraced voluntarily, but given the options, his only real choice.

When he exited the interstate earlier that evening, Leo had called his brother to say he was almost at his destination. Though he needed to escape the suffocating but well-meaning attention, he would never ever cause Luc and Hattie to worry unnecessarily. He would do anything for his younger brother, and he knew Luc would return the favor. They were closer than most siblings, having survived their late teen and early-adult years in a foreign land under the thumb of their autocratic Italian grandfather.

Leo yawned and stretched, suddenly exhausted. Perhaps he was paying for years of burning the candle at both ends. His medical team and his family had insisted that for a full recovery, Leo needed to stay away from work and stress. Maybe the recent hospital stay had affected him more than he realized. But whatever the reason, he was bone tired and ready to climb into that large rustic bed.

Too bad he’d be sleeping alone. It was oddly comforting when his body reacted predictably to thoughts of Phoebe. Something about her slow, steady smile and her understated sexuality really did it for him. Though his doctor had cleared Leo for exercise and sexual activity, the latter was a moot point. Trying to ignore the erection that wouldn’t be seeing any action tonight, he reached for his suitcase, extracted his shaving kit and headed for the shower.

* * *

To Phoebe’s relief, the baby didn’t stir when she laid him in his crib. She stood over him for long moments watching the almost imperceptible movements of his small body as he breathed. She knew her sister was missing Teddy like crazy, but selfishly, Phoebe herself was looking forward to having someone to share Christmas with.

Her stomach did a little flip as she realized that Leo might be here, as well. But no. Surely he would go home at the holidays and come back to finish out his stay in January.

When she received the initial reservation request, she had researched Leo and the Cavallo family on Google. She knew he was single, rich and the CFO of a worldwide textile company started by his grandfather in Italy. She also knew that he supported several charities, not only with money, but with his service. He didn’t need to work. The Cavallo vaults, metaphorically speaking, held more money than any one person could spend in a lifetime. But she understood men like Leo all too well. They thrived on challenge, pitting themselves repeatedly against adversaries, both in business and in life.

Taking Leo into her home was not a physical risk. He was a gentleman, and she knew far more about him than she did about many men she had dated. The only thing that gave her pause was an instinct that told her he needed help in some way. She didn’t need another responsibility. And besides, if the cabin hadn’t been demolished, Leo would have been on his own for two months anyway.

There was no reason for her to be concerned. Nevertheless, she sensed pain in him, and confusion. Given her own experience with being knocked flat on her butt for a long, long time, she wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone. Maybe she could probe gently and see why this big mountain of a man, who could probably bench-press more than his body weight, seemed lost.

As she prepared for bed, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. And when she climbed beneath her flannel sheets and closed her eyes, his face was the image that stayed with her through the night.

Three (#u46b89808-d66e-517c-8bde-945c256bbe0a)

Leo awoke when sunlight shining through a crack in the drapes hit his face. He yawned and scrubbed his hands over his stubbly chin, realizing with pleased surprise that he had slept through the night. Perhaps there was something to this mountain retreat thing after all.

Most of his stuff was still in the car, so he dug out a pair of faded jeans from his overnight case and threw on his favorite warm cashmere sweater. It was a Cavallo product...of course. The cabin had an efficient heat system, but Leo was itching to get outside and see his surroundings in the light of day.

Tiptoeing down the hall in case the baby was sleeping, he paused unconsciously at Phoebe’s door, which stood ajar. Through the narrow crack he could see a lump under the covers of a very disheveled bed. Poor woman. The baby must have kept her up during the night.

Resisting the urge to linger, he made his way to the kitchen and quietly located the coffeepot. Phoebe was an organized sort, so it was no problem to find what he needed in the cabinet above. When he had a steaming cup brewed, strong and black, he grabbed a banana off the counter and went to stand at the living room window.

Supposedly, one of his challenges was to acquire the habit of eating breakfast in the morning. Normally, he had neither the time nor the inclination to eat. As a rule, he’d be at the gym by six-thirty and at the office before eight. After that, his day was nonstop until seven or later at night.

He’d never really thought much about his schedule in the past. It suited him, and it got the job done. For a man in his prime, stopping to smell the roses was a metaphor for growing old. Now that he had been admonished to do just that, he was disgruntled and frustrated. He was thirty-six, for God’s sake. Was it really time to throw in the towel?

Pulling back the chintz curtains decorated with gamboling black bears, he stared out at a world that glistened like diamonds in the sharp winter sun. Every branch and leaf was coated with ice. Evidently, the temperatures had dropped as promised, and now the narrow valley where Phoebe made her home was a frozen wonderland.

So much for his desire to explore. Anyone foolish enough to go out at this moment would end up flat on his or her back after the first step. Patience, Leo. Patience. His doctor, who also happened to be his racquetball partner on the weekends, had counseled him repeatedly to take it easy, but Leo wasn’t sure he could adapt. Already, he felt itchy, needing a project to tackle, a problem to solve.

“You’re up early.”

Phoebe’s voice startled him so badly he spun around and managed to slosh hot coffee over the fingers of his right hand. “Ouch, damn it.”

He saw her wince as he crossed to the sink and ran cold water over his stinging skin.

“Sorry,” she said. “I thought you heard me.”

Leo had been lost in thought, but he was plenty alert now. Phoebe wore simple knit pj’s that clung to her body in all the right places. The opaque, waffle-weave fabric was pale pink with darker pink rosebuds. It faithfully outlined firm high breasts, a rounded ass and long, long legs.

Despite his single-minded libido, he realized in an instant that she looked somewhat the worse for wear. Her long braid had frayed into wispy tendrils and dark smudges underscored her eyes.

“Tough night with the baby?” he asked.

She shook her head, yawning and reaching for a mug in the cabinet. When she did, her top rode up, exposing an inch or two of smooth golden skin. He looked away, feeling like a voyeur, though the image was impossible to erase from his brain.

After pouring herself coffee and taking a long sip, Phoebe sank into a leather-covered recliner and pulled an afghan over her lap. “It wasn’t the baby this time,” she muttered. “It was me. I couldn’t sleep for thinking about what a headache this reconstruction is going to be, especially keeping track of all the subcontractors.”

“I could pitch in with that,” he said. The words popped out of his mouth, uncensored. Apparently old habits were hard to break. But after all, wasn’t helping out a fellow human being at least as important as inhaling the scent of some imaginary rose that surely wouldn’t bloom in the dead of winter anyway? Fortunately, his sister-in-law wasn’t around to chastise him for his impertinence. She had, in her sweet way, given him a very earnest lecture about the importance of not making work his entire life.

Of course, Hattie was married to Luc, who had miraculously managed to find a balance between enjoying his wife and his growing family and at the same time carrying his weight overseeing the R & D department. Luc’s innovations, both in fabric content and in design, had kept their company competitive in the changing world of the twenty-first century. Worldwide designers wanted Cavallo textiles for their best and most expensive lines.

Leo was happy to oblige them. For a price.