A Billionaire for Christmas. Janice MaynardЧитать онлайн книгу.
up with him during the night.”
He followed her down a short hallway past what was obviously Phoebe’s suite all the way to the back right corner of the house. A chill hit him as soon as they entered the bedroom.
“Sorry,” she said. “The vents have been closed off, but it will warm up quickly.”
He looked around curiously. “This is nice.” A massive king-size bed made of rough timbers dominated the room. Hunter-green draperies covered what might have been a large picture window. The attached bathroom, decorated in shades of sand and beige, included a Jacuzzi tub and a roomy shower stall. Except for the tiled floor in the bathroom, the rest of the space boasted the same attractive hardwood he’d seen in the remainder of the house, covered here and there by colorful rugs.
Phoebe hovered, the baby now asleep. “Make yourself at home. If you’re interested in staying in the area, I can help you make some calls in the morning.”
Leo frowned. “I paid a hefty deposit. I’m not interested in staying anywhere else.”
A trace of pique flitted across Phoebe’s face, but she answered him calmly. “I’ll refund your money, of course. You saw the cabin. It’s unlivable. Even with a speedy insurance settlement, finding people to do the work will probably be difficult. I can’t even guesstimate how long it will be before everything is fixed.”
Leo thought about the long drive from Atlanta. He hadn’t wanted to come here at all. And yesterday’s storm damage was his ticket out. All he had to do was tell Luc and Hattie, and his doctor, that circumstances had conspired against him. He could be back in Atlanta by tomorrow night.
But something—stubbornness maybe—made him contrary. “Where is Mr. Kemper in all this? Shouldn’t he be the one worrying about repairing the other cabin?”
Phoebe’s face went blank. “Mr. Kemper?” Suddenly, she laughed. “I’m not married, Mr. Cavallo.”
“And the baby?”
A small frown line appeared between her brows. “Are you a traditionalist, then? You don’t think a single female can raise a child on her own?”
Leo shrugged. “I think kids deserve two parents. But having said that, I do believe women can do anything they like. I can’t, however, imagine a woman like you needing to embrace single parenthood.”
He’d pegged Phoebe as calm and cool, but her eyes flashed. “A woman like me? What does that mean?”
Leaning his back against one of the massive bedposts, he folded his arms and stared at her. Now that he knew she wasn’t married, all bets were off. “You’re stunning. Are all the men in Tennessee blind?”
Her lips twitched. “I’m pretty sure that’s the most clichéd line I’ve ever heard.”
“I stand by my question. You’re living out here in the middle of nowhere. Your little son has no daddy anywhere in sight. A man has to wonder.”
Phoebe stared at him, long and hard. He bore her scrutiny patiently, realizing how little they knew of each other. But for yesterday’s storm, he and Phoebe would likely have exchanged no more than pleasantries when she handed over his keys. In the weeks to come, they might occasionally have seen each other outside on pleasant days, perhaps waved in passing.
But fate had intervened. Leo came from a long line of Italian ancestors who believed in the power of destino and amore. Since he was momentarily banned from the job that usually filled most of his waking hours, he was willing to explore his fascination with Phoebe Kemper.
He watched as she deposited the sleeping baby carefully in the center of the bed. The little boy rolled to his side and continued to snooze undisturbed. Phoebe straightened and matched her pose to Leo’s. Only instead of using the bed for support, she chose to lean against the massive wardrobe that likely held a very modern home entertainment center.
She eyed him warily, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip. Finally she sighed. “First of all, we’re not in the middle of nowhere, though it must seem that way to you since you had to drive up here on such a nasty night. Gatlinburg is less than ten miles away. Pigeon Forge closer than that. We have grocery stores and gas stations and all the modern conveniences, I promise. I like it here at the foot of the mountains. It’s peaceful.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“And Teddy is my nephew, not my son.”
Leo straightened, wondering what it said about him that he was glad the woman facing him was a free agent. “Why is he here?”
“My sister and her husband are in Portugal for six weeks settling his father’s estate. They decided the trip would be too hard on Teddy, and that cleaning out the house would be much easier without him. So I volunteered to let him stay with me until they get home.”
“You must like kids a lot.”
A shadow crossed her face. “I love my nephew.” She shook off whatever mood had momentarily stolen the light. “But we’re avoiding the important topic. I can’t rent you a demolished cabin. You have to go.”
He smiled at her with every bit of charm he could muster. “You can rent me this room.”
* * *
Phoebe had to give Leo Cavallo points for persistence. His deep brown eyes were deceptive. Though a woman could sink into their warmth, she might miss entirely the fact that he was a man who got what he wanted. If he had been ill recently, she could find no sign of it in his appearance. His naturally golden skin, along with his name, told her that he possessed Mediterranean genes. And in Leo’s case, that genetic material had been spun into a ruggedly handsome man.
“This isn’t a B and B,” she said. “I have an investment property that I rent out to strangers. That property is currently unavailable, so you’re out of luck.”
“Don’t make a hasty decision,” he drawled. “I’m housebroken. And I’m handy when it comes to changing lightbulbs and killing creepy-crawlies.”
“I’m tall for a woman, and I have monthly pest control service.”
“Taking care of a baby is a lot of work. You might enjoy having help.”
“You don’t strike me as the type to change diapers.”
“Touché.”
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