Читать книгу A Billionaire for Christmas - Джанис Мейнард, Janice Maynard - Страница 10

Four

Phoebe took her time showering, drying her hair and dressing. If Leo wasn’t going to live up to his end of the bargain, she wanted to know it now. Leaving Teddy in his temporary care was no risk while she enjoyed a brief respite from the demands of surrogate parenthood. Despite Leo’s protestations to the contrary, he was a man who could handle difficult situations.

It was hard to imagine that he had been ill. He seemed impervious to the things that lesser mortals faced. She envied him his confidence. Hers had taken a serious knock three years ago, and she wasn’t sure if she had ever truly regained it. A younger Phoebe had taken the world by storm, never doubting her own ability to craft outcomes to her satisfaction.

But she had paid dearly for her hubris. Her entire world had crumbled. Afterward, she had chosen to hide from life, and only in the past few months had she finally begun to understand who she was and what she wanted. The lessons had been painful and slow in coming.

Unfortunately, her awakening had also made her face her own cowardice. Once upon a time she had taken great pleasure in blazing trails where no other women had gone. Back then, she would have seen a man like Leo as a challenge, both in business and in her personal life.

Smart and confident, she had cruised through life, never realizing that on any given day, she—like any other human being—was subject to the whims of fate. Her perfect life had disintegrated in the way of a comet shattering into a million pieces.

Things would never be as they were. But could they be equally good in another very different way?

She took more care in dressing than she did normally. Instead of jeans, she pulled out a pair of cream corduroy pants and paired them with a cheery red scoop-necked sweater. Christmas was on the way, and the color always lifted her mood.

Wryly acknowledging her vanity, she left her hair loose on her shoulders. It was thick and straight as a plumb line. With the baby demanding much of her time, a braid was easier. Nevertheless, today she wanted to look nice for her guest.

When she finally returned to the living room, Teddy was asleep on Leo’s chest, and Leo’s eyes were closed, as well. She lingered for a moment in the doorway, enjoying the picture they made. The big, strong man and the tiny, defenseless baby.

Her chest hurt. She rubbed it absently, wondering if she would always grieve for what she had lost. Sequestering herself like a nun the past few years had given her a sort of numb peace. But that peace was an illusion, because it was the product of not living.

Living hurt. If Phoebe were ever going to rejoin the human race, she would have to accept being vulnerable. The thought was terrifying. The flip side of great love and joy was immense pain. She wasn’t sure the first was worth risking the prospect of the last.

Quietly she approached the sofa and laid a hand on Leo’s arm. His eyes opened at once as if he had perhaps only been lost in thought rather than dozing. She held out her arms for the baby, but Leo shook his head.

“Show me where to take him,” he whispered. “No point in waking him up.”

She led the way through her bedroom and bathroom to a much smaller bedroom that adjoined on the opposite side. Before Teddy’s arrival she had used this space as a junk room, filled with the things she was too dispirited to sort through when she’d moved in.

Now it had been tamed somewhat, so that half the room was full of neatly stacked plastic tubs, while the other half had been quickly transformed into a comfy space for Teddy. A baby bed, rocking chair and changing table, all with matching prints, made an appealing, albeit temporary, nursery.

Leo bent over the crib and laid Teddy gently on his back. The little boy immediately rolled to his side and stuck a thumb in his mouth. Both adults smiled. Phoebe clicked on the monitor and motioned for Leo to follow her as they tiptoed out.

In the living room, she waved an arm. “Relax. Do whatever you like. There’s plenty of wood if you feel up to building us a fire.”

“I told you. I’m not sick.”

The terse words had a bite to them. Phoebe flinched inwardly, but kept her composure. Something had happened to Leo. Something serious. Cancer maybe. But she was not privy to that information. So conversation regarding the subject was akin to navigating a minefield.

Most men were terrible patients. Usually because their health and vigor were tied to their self-esteem. Clearly, Leo had been sent here or had agreed to come here because he needed rest and relaxation. He didn’t want Phoebe hovering or commenting on his situation. Okay. Fine. But she was still going to keep an eye on him, because whatever had given him a wallop was serious enough to warrant a two-month hiatus from work.

That in itself was telling. In her past life, she had interacted with lots of men like Leo. They were alpha animals, content only with the number one spot in the pack. Their work was their life. And even if they married, familial relationships were kept in neatly separated boxes.

Unfortunately for Phoebe, she possessed some of those same killer instincts...or she had. The adrenaline rush of an impossible-to-pull-off business deal was addictive. The more you succeeded, the more you wanted to try again. Being around Leo was going to be difficult, because like a recovering alcoholic who avoided other drinkers, she was in danger of being sucked into his life, his work issues, whatever made him tick.

Under no circumstances could she let herself be dragged back into that frenzied schedule. The world was a big, beautiful place. She had enough money tucked away to live simply for a very long time. She had lost herself in the drive to achieve success. It was better now to accept her new lifestyle.

Leo moved to the fireplace and began stacking kindling and firewood with the precision of an Eagle Scout. Phoebe busied herself in the kitchen making a pot of chili to go with sandwiches for their lunch. Finally, she broke the awkward silence. “I have a young woman who babysits for me when I have to be gone for a short time. It occurred to me that I could see if she is free and if so, she could stay here in the house and watch Teddy while you and I do an initial damage assessment on the other cabin.”

Leo paused to look over his shoulder, one foot propped on the raised hearth. “You sound very businesslike about this.”

She shrugged. “I used to work for a big company. I’m accustomed to tackling difficult tasks.”

He lit the kindling, stood back to see if it would catch, and then replaced the fire screen, brushing his hands together to remove the soot. “Where did you work?”

Biting her lip, she berated herself inwardly for bringing up a subject she would rather not pursue. “I was a stockbroker for a firm in Charlotte, North Carolina.”

“Did they go under? Is that why you’re here?”

His was a fair assumption. But wrong. “The business survived the economic collapse and is expanding by leaps and bounds.”

“Which doesn’t really answer my question.”

She grimaced. “Maybe when we’ve known each other for more than a nanosecond I might share the gory details. But not today.”

* * *

Leo understood her reluctance, or he thought he did. Not everyone wanted to talk about his or her failures. And rational or not, he regarded his heart attack as a failure. He wasn’t overweight. He didn’t smoke. Truth be told, his vices were few, perhaps only one. He was type A to the max. And type A personalities lived with stress so continuously that the condition became second nature. According to his doctor, no amount of exercise or healthy eating could compensate for an inability to unwind.

So maybe Leo was screwed.

He joined his hostess in the kitchen, looking for any excuse to get closer to her. “Something smells good.” Smooth, Leo. Real smooth.

Last night he had dreamed about Phoebe’s braid. But today...wow. Who knew within that old-fashioned hairstyle was a shiny waterfall the color of midnight?

Phoebe adjusted the heat on the stove top and turned to face him. “I didn’t ask. Do you have any dietary restrictions? Any allergies?”

Leo frowned. “I don’t expect you to cook for me all the time I’m here. You claimed that civilization is close by. Why don’t I take you out now and then?”

She shot him a pitying look that said he was clueless. “Clearly you’ve never tried eating at a restaurant with an infant. It’s ridiculously loud, not to mention that the chaos means tipping the server at least thirty percent to compensate for the rice cereal all over the floor.” She eyed his sweater. “I doubt you would enjoy it.”

“I know kids are messy.” He’d eaten out with Luc and Hattie and the babies a time or two. Hadn’t he? Or come to think of it, maybe it was always at their home. “Well, not that then, but I could at least pick up a pizza once a week.”

Phoebe smiled at him sweetly. “That would be lovely. Thank you, Leo.”

Her genuine pleasure made him want to do all sorts of things for her...and to her. Something about that radiant smile twisted his insides in a knot. The unmistakable jolt of attraction was perhaps inevitable. They were two healthy adults who were going to be living in close proximity for eight or nine weeks. They were bound to notice each other sexually.

He cleared his throat as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Is there a boyfriend who won’t like me staying here?”

Again, that faint, fleeting shadow that dimmed her beauty for a moment. “No. You’re safe.” She shook her head, giving him a rueful smile. “I probably should say yes, though. Just so you don’t get any ideas.”

He tried to look innocent. “What ideas?” All joking aside, he was a little worried about having sex for the first time since... Oh, hell. He had a hard time even saying it in his head. Heart attack. There. He wasn’t afraid of two stupid words.

The doctor had said no restrictions, but the doctor hadn’t seen Phoebe Kemper in a snug crimson sweater. She reminded Leo of a cross between Wonder Woman and Pocahontas. Both of whom he’d fantasized about as a preteen boy. What did that say about his chances of staying away from her?

She shooed him with her hands. “Go unpack. Read one of those books. Lunch will be ready in an hour.”

* * *

Leo enjoyed Phoebe’s cooking almost as much as her soft, feminine beauty. If he could eat like this all the time, maybe he wouldn’t skip meals and drive through fast-food places at nine o’clock at night. Little Teddy sat in his high chair playing with a set of plastic keys. It wasn’t time for another bottle, so the poor kid had to watch the grown-ups eat.

They had barely finished the meal when Allison, the babysitter, showed up. According to Phoebe, she was a college student who lived at home and enjoyed picking up extra money. Plus, she adored Teddy, which was a bonus.

Since temperatures had warmed up enough to melt the ice, Leo went out to the car for his big suitcase, brought it in and rummaged until he found winter gear. Not much of it was necessary in Atlanta. It did snow occasionally, but rarely hung around. Natives, though, could tell hair-raising stories about ice storms and two-week stints without power.

When he made his way back to the living room, Allison was playing peekaboo with the baby, and Phoebe was slipping her arms into a fleece-lined sheepskin jacket. Even the bulky garment did nothing to diminish her appeal.

She tucked a notepad and pen into her pocket. “Don’t be shy about telling me things you see. Construction is not my forte.”

“Nor mine, but my brother and I did build a tree house once upon a time. Does that count?”

He followed her out the door, inhaling sharply as the icy wind filled his lungs with a jolt. The winter afternoon enwrapped them, blue-skied and damp. From every corner echoed the sounds of dripping water as ice gave way beneath pale sunlight.

Lingering on the porch to take it all in, he found himself strangely buoyed by the sights and sounds of the forest. The barest minimum of trees had been cleared for Phoebe’s home and its mate close by. All around them, a sea of evergreen danced in the brisk wind. Though he could see a single contrail far above them, etched white against the blue, there was little other sign of the twenty-first century.

“Did you have these built when you moved here?” he asked as they walked side by side up the incline to the other cabin.

Phoebe tucked the ends of her fluttering scarf into her coat, lifting her face to the sun. “My grandmother left me this property when she died a dozen years ago. I had just started college. For years I held on to it because of sentimental reasons, and then much later...”

“Later, what?”

She looked at him, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Her shoulders lifted and fell. “I decided to mimic Thoreau and live in the woods.”

Phoebe didn’t expand on her explanation, so he didn’t push. They had plenty of time for sharing confidences. And besides, he was none too eager to divulge all his secrets just yet.

* * *

Up close, and in the unforgiving light of day, the damage to the cabin was more extensive than he had realized. He put a hand on Phoebe’s arm. “Let me go first. There’s no telling what might still be in danger of crumbling.”

They were able to open the front door, but just barely. The tree that had crushed the roof was a massive oak, large enough around that Leo would not have been able to encircle it with his arms. The house had caved in so dramatically that the floor was knee-deep in rubble—insulation, roofing shingles, branches of every size and, beneath it all, Phoebe’s furnishings.

She removed her sunglasses and craned her neck to look up at the nonexistent ceiling as she followed Leo inside. “Not much left, is there?” Her voice wobbled a bit at the end. “I’m so grateful it wasn’t my house.”

“You and me, both,” he muttered. Phoebe or Teddy or both could have been killed or badly injured...with no one nearby to check on them. The isolation was peaceful, but he wasn’t sure he approved of a defenseless woman living here. Perhaps that was a prehistoric gut feeling. Given the state of the structure in which they were standing, however, he did have a case.

He just didn’t have any right to argue it.

Taking Phoebe’s hand to steady her, they stepped on top of and over all the debris and made their way to the back portion of the cabin. The far left corner bedroom had escaped unscathed...and some pieces of furniture in the outer rooms were okay for the moment. But if anything were to be salvaged, it would have to be done immediately. Dampness would lead to mildew, and with animals having free rein, further damage was a certainty.

Phoebe’s face was hard to read. Finally she sighed. “I might do better to bulldoze it and start over,” she said glumly. She bent down to pick up a glass wildflower that had tumbled from a small table, but had miraculously escaped demolition. “My friends cautioned me to furnish the rental cabin with inexpensive, institutional stuff that would not be a big deal to replace in case of theft or carelessness on the part of the tenants. I suppose I should have listened.”

“Do you have decent insurance?” He was running the numbers in his head, and the outcome wasn’t pretty.

She nodded. “I don’t remember all the ins and outs of the policy, but my agent is a friend of my sister’s, so I imagine he made sure I have what I need.”

Phoebe’s discouragement was almost palpable.

“Sometimes things work out for a reason,” he said, wanting to reassure her, but well aware that she had no reason to lean on him. “I need something to do to keep me from going crazy. You have a baby to care for. Let me handle this mess, Phoebe. Let me juggle and schedule the various contractors. Please. You’d be doing me a favor.”