Читать книгу One Night Before Christmas: A Billionaire for Christmas / One Night, Second Chance / It Happened One Night - Джанис Мейнард, Robyn Grady - Страница 14

Eight

Leo was torn on a rack of indecision. Phoebe was here...in his arms...willing. But some tiny shred of decency in his soul insisted on being heard. The timing wasn’t right. This wasn’t right.

Cursing himself inwardly with a groan of anguish for the effort it took to stop the train on the tracks, he removed her arms from around his neck and stepped back. “We can’t,” he said. “I won’t take advantage of you.”

Barely able to look at what he was saying no to, he grabbed her pajama top and thrust it toward her. “Put this on.”

Phoebe obeyed instantly as mortification and anger colored her face. “I’m not a child, Leo. I make my own decisions.”

He wanted to comfort her, but touching her again was out of the question. An explanation would have to suffice. He hoped she understood him. “A tree demolished one of your cabins. You’re caring for a teething baby, who has kept you up big chunks of the past two nights. Stress and exhaustion are no basis for making decisions.” He of all people should know. “I don’t want to be that man you regret when the sun comes up.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, glaring at him with thinly veiled hurt. “I should toss you out on your ass,” she said, the words holding a faint but audible tremor.

His heart contracted. “I hope you won’t.” There were things he needed to tell her before they became intimate, and if he wasn’t ready to come clean, then he wasn’t ready to have sex with Phoebe. He hurt just looking at her. With her hair mussed and her protective posture, she seemed far younger than he knew her to be. Achingly vulnerable.

She lifted her chin. “We won’t do this again. You keep to yourself, and I’ll keep my end of the bargain. Good night, Leo.” Turning on her heel, she left him.

The room seemed cold and lonely in her absence. Had he made the most colossal mistake of his life? The fire between the two of them burned hot and bright. She was perfection in his arms, sensual, giving, as intuitive a lover as he had ever envisaged.

Despite his unfilled passion, he knew he had done the right thing. Phoebe wasn’t the kind of woman who had sex without thinking it through. Despite her apparent willingness tonight to do just that, he knew she would have blamed both herself and him when it was all over.

What he wanted from her, if indeed he had a chance of ever getting close to her again, was trust. He had secrets to share. And he suspected she did, as well. So he could wait for the other, the carnal satisfaction. Maybe....

* * *

Phoebe climbed into her cold bed with tears of humiliation wetting her cheeks. No matter what Leo said, tonight had been a rejection. What kind of man could call a halt when he was completely aroused and almost at the point of penetration? Only one who wasn’t fully involved or committed to the act of lovemaking.

Perhaps she had inadvertently stimulated him with her foot massage. And maybe the intimacy of their nap in front of the fire had given him a buzz. But in the end, Phoebe simply wasn’t who or what he wanted.

The fact that she could be badly hurt by a man she had met only recently gave her pause. Was she so desperate? So lonely? Tonight’s debacle had given her some painful truths to examine.

But self-reflection would have to wait, because despite her distress, she could barely keep her eyes open....

* * *

Leo slept late the next morning. Not intentionally, but because he had been up much of the night pacing the floor. Sometime before dawn he had taken a shower and pleasured himself, but it had been a hollow exercise whose only purpose was to allow him to find oblivion in much-needed sleep.

The clock read almost ten when he made his way to the front of the house. He liked the open floor plan of the living room and kitchen, because it gave fewer places for Phoebe to hide.

Today, however, he was dumbstruck to find that she was nowhere in the house. And Teddy’s crib was empty.

A twinge of panic gripped him until he found both of them out on the front porch chatting with the man who had come to remove the enormous fallen oak tree. When he stepped outside, Phoebe’s quick disapproving glance reminded him that he had neither shaved nor combed his hair.

The grizzled workman who could have been anywhere from fifty to seventy saluted them with tobacco-stained fingers and headed down the lane to where he had parked his truck.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said stiffly. “I was supposed to be handling this.”

Phoebe’s lips smiled, but her gaze was wintry. “No problem. Teddy and I dealt with it. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get him down for his morning nap.”

“But I—”

She shut the door in his face, leaving him out in the cold...literally.

He paused on the porch to count to ten, or maybe a hundred. Then, when he thought he had a hold on his temper, he went back inside and scavenged the kitchen for a snack to hold him until lunch. A couple of pieces of cold toast he found on a plate by the stove would have to do. He slathered them with some of Phoebe’s homemade strawberry jam and sat down at the table. When Phoebe returned, he had finished eating and had also realized that he needed a favor. Not a great time to ask, but what the heck.

She ignored him pointedly, but he wasn’t going to let a little cold shoulder put him off. “May I use your phone?” he asked politely.

“Why?”

“I’m going to order a new phone from your carrier since mine is virtually useless, and I also want to get internet service going. I’ll pay the contract fees for a year, but when I leave you can drop it if you want to.”

“That’s pretty expensive for a short-term solution. It must be nice to be loaded.”

He ground his teeth together, reminding himself that she was still upset about last night. “I won’t apologize for having money,” he said quietly. “I work very hard.”

“Is it really that important to stay plugged in? Can’t you go cold turkey for two months?” Phoebe was pale. She looked at him as if she would put him on the first plane out if she could.

How had they become combatants? He stared at her until her cheeks flushed and she looked away. “Technology and business are not demons,” he said. “We live in the information age.”

“And what about your recovery?”

“What about it?”

“I got the impression that you were supposed to stay away from business in order to rest and recuperate.”

“I can do that and still have access to the world.”

She took a step in his direction. “Can you? Can you really? Because from where I’m standing, you look like a guy who is determined to get what he wants when he wants it. Your doctor may have given you orders. Your brother may have, as well. But I doubt you respect them enough to really do what they’ve asked.”

Her harsh assessment hit a little too close to home. “I’m following doctor’s orders, I swear. Though it’s really none of your business.” The defensive note in his voice made him cringe inwardly. Was he honestly the ass she described?

“Do what you have to do,” she said, pulling her phone from her pocket and handing it to him. Her expression was a mix of disappointment and resignation. “But I would caution you to think long and hard about the people who love you. And why it is that you’re here.”

At that moment, Leo saw a large delivery truck pull up in front of the cabin. Good, his surprise had arrived. Maybe it would win him some brownie points with Phoebe. And deflect her from the uncomfortable subject of his recuperation.

She went to the door as the bell rang. “But I didn’t order anything,” she protested when the man in brown set a large box just inside the door.

“Please sign here, ma’am,” he said patiently.

The door slammed and Phoebe stared down at the box as if it possibly contained dynamite.

“Open it,” Leo said.

* * *

Phoebe couldn’t help being a little anxious when she tore into the package. It didn’t have foreign postage, so it was not from her sister. She pulled back the cardboard flaps and stared in amazement. The box was full of food—an expensive ham, casseroles preserved in freezer packs, desserts, fresh fruit, the list was endless.

She turned to look at Leo, who now lay sprawled on the sofa. “Did you do this?”

He shrugged, his arms outstretched along the back of the couch. “Before I lost my temper yesterday about my work email, I scrolled through my personal messages and decided to contact a good buddy of mine, a cordon bleu chef in Atlanta who owes me a favor. I felt bad about you agreeing to cook for me all the time, so I asked him to hook us up with some meals. He’s going to send a box once a week.”

Her mind reeled. Not only was this a beautifully thoughtful gesture, it was also incredibly expensive. She stared at the contents, feeling her dismal mood slip away. A man like Leo would be a lovely companion for the following two months, even if all he wanted from her was friendship.

Before she could lose her nerve, she crossed the room, leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. His look of shock made her face heat. “Don’t worry,” she said wryly. “That was completely platonic. I merely wanted to say thank-you for a lovely gift.”

He grasped her wrist, his warm touch sending ripples of heat all the way up her arm. “You’re welcome, Phoebe. But of course, it’s partially a selfish thing. I get to enjoy the bounty, as well.” His smile could charm the birds off the trees. In repose, Leo’s rugged features seemed austere, even intimidating. But when he smiled, the force of his charisma increased exponentially.

Feeling something inside her soul ease at the cessation of hostilities, she returned the smile, though she pulled away and put a safe distance between them. It was no use being embarrassed or awkward around Leo. She wasn’t so heartless as to throw him out, and truthfully, she didn’t want to. Teddy was a sweetheart, but having another adult in the house was a different kind of stimulation.

Suddenly, she remembered what she had wanted to ask Leo before last night when everything ended so poorly. “Tell me,” she said. “Would you object to having Christmas decorations in the house?”

“That’s a strange segue, but why would I object?” he asked. “I’m not a Scrooge.”

“I never thought you were, but you might have ethnic or religious reasons to abstain.”

“No problems on either score,” he chuckled. “Does this involve a shopping trip?”

“No. Actually, I have boxes and boxes of stuff in the attic. When I moved here, I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. Now, with Teddy in the house, it doesn’t seem right to ignore the holiday. I wasn’t able to take it all down on my own. Do you mind helping? I warn you...it’s a lot of stuff.”

“Including a tree?”

She smiled beseechingly. “My old one is artificial, and not all that pretty. I thought it might be fun to find one in the woods.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, of course. I own thirty acres. Surely we can discover something appropriate.”

He lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “We?”

“Yes, we. Don’t be so suspicious. I’m not sending you out in the cold all on your own. I have one of those baby carrier things. Teddy and I will go with you. Besides, I don’t think men are the best judge when it comes to locating the perfect tree.”

“You wound me,” he said, standing and clutching his chest. “I have excellent taste.”

“This cabin has space limitations to consider. And admit it. Men always think bigger is better.”

“So do women as a rule.”

His naughty double entendre was delivered with a straight face, but his eyes danced with mischief. Phoebe knew her cheeks had turned bright red. She felt the heat. “Are we still talking about Christmas trees?” she asked, her throat dry as the Sahara.

“You tell me.”

“I think you made yourself pretty clear last night,” she snapped.

He looked abashed. “I never should have let things go that far. We need to take baby steps, Phoebe. Forced proximity makes for a certain intimacy, but I respect you too much to take advantage of that.”

“And if I take advantage of you?”

She was appalled to hear the words leave her mouth. Apparently her libido trumped both her pride and her common sense.

Leo’s brows drew together in a scowl. He folded his arms across his broad chest. With his legs braced in a fighting stance, he suddenly seemed far more dangerous. Today he had on old jeans and a cream wool fisherman’s sweater.

Everything about him from his head to his toes screamed wealth and privilege. So why hadn’t he chosen some exclusive resort for his sabbatical? A place with tennis courts and spas and golf courses?

He still hadn’t answered her question. The arousal swirling in her belly congealed into a small knot of embarrassment. Did he get some kind of sadistic kick out of flirting with women and then shutting them down?

“Never mind,” she said, the words tight. “I understand.”

He strode toward her, his face a thundercloud. “You don’t understand a single damn thing,” he said roughly. Before she could protest or back up or initiate any other of a dozen protective moves, he dragged her to his chest, wrapped one arm around her back and used his free hand to anchor her chin and tip her face up to his.

His thick-lashed brown eyes, afire with emotion and seemingly able to peer into her soul, locked on hers and dared her to look away. “Make no mistake, Phoebe,” he said. “I want you. And Lord willing, I’m going to have you. When we finally make it to a bed—or frankly any flat surface, ’cause I’m not picky—I’m going to make love to you until we’re both too weak to stand. But in the meantime, you’re going to behave. I’m going to behave. Got it?”

Time stood still. Just like in the movies. Every one of her senses went on high alert. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. When he grabbed her, she had braced one hand reflexively on his shoulder, though the idea of holding him at bay was ludicrous. She couldn’t manage that even if she wanted to. His strength and power were evident despite whatever illness had plagued him.

Dark stubble covered his chin. He could have been a pirate or a highwayman or any of the renegade heroes in the historical novels her sister read. Phoebe was so close she could inhale the warm scent of him. A great bear of a man not long from his bed.

She licked her lips, trembling enough that she was glad of his support. “Define behave.” She kissed his chin, his wrist, the fingers caressing her skin.

Leo fought her. Not outwardly. But from within. His struggle was written on his face. But he didn’t release her. Not this time.

The curse he uttered as he gave in to her provocation was heartfelt and earthy as he encircled her with both arms and half lifted her off her feet. His mouth crushed hers, taking...giving no quarter. His masculine force was exhilarating. She was glad she was tall and strong, because it gave her the ability to match him kiss for kiss.

Baby steps be damned. She and Leo had jumped over miles of social convention and landed in a time of desperation, of elemental reality. Like the prehistoric people who had lived in these hills and valleys centuries before, the base human instinct to mate clawed its way to the forefront, making a mockery of soft words and tender sentiments.

This was passion in its most raw form. She rubbed against him, desperate to get closer. “Leo,” she groaned, unable to articulate what she wanted, what she needed. “Leo...”