A Billionaire for Christmas. Janice Maynard

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A Billionaire for Christmas - Janice  Maynard


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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.

      Phoebe sighed loudly, her expression glum. “I couldn’t ask that of you. It’s my problem, and besides, you’re on vacation.”

      “Not a vacation exactly,” he clarified. “More like an involuntary time-out.”

      She grinned. “Has Leo been a naughty boy?”

      Heat pooled in his groin and he felt his cheeks redden. He really had to get a handle on this urge to kiss her senseless. Since he was fairly sure that her taunt was nothing more than fun repartee, he refrained from saying what he really thought. “Not naughty,” he clarified. “More like too much work and not enough play.”

      Phoebe swung her legs over the arm of the chair, her coffee mug resting on her stomach. For the first time he noticed that she wore large, pink Hello Kitty slippers on her feet. A less seductive female ensemble would be difficult to find. And yet Leo was fascinated.

      She pursed her lips. “I’m guessing executive-level burnout?”

      Her perspicacity was spot-on. “You could say that.” Although it wasn’t the whole story. “I’m doing penance here in the woods, so I can see the error of my ways.”

      “And who talked you into this getaway? You don’t seem like a man who lets other people dictate his schedule.”

      He refilled his cup and sat down across from her. “True enough,” he conceded. “But my baby brother, who happens to be part of a disgustingly happy married couple, thinks I need a break.”

      “And you listened?”

      “Reluctantly.”

      She studied his face as though trying to sift through his half-truths. “What did you think you would do for two months?”

      “That remains to be seen. I have a large collection of detective novels packed in the backseat of my car, a year of New York Times crossword puzzles on my iPad and a brand-new digital camera not even out of the box yet.”

      “I’m impressed.”

      “But you’ll concede that I surely have time to interview prospective handymen.”

      “Why would you want to?”

      “I like keeping busy.”

      “Isn’t that why you’re here? To be not busy? I’d hate to think I was causing you to fall off the wagon in the first week.”

      “Believe me, Phoebe. Juggling schedules and workmen for your cabin repair is something I could do in my sleep. And since it’s not my cabin, there’s no stress involved.”

      Still not convinced, she frowned. “If it weren’t for the baby, I’d never consider this.”

      “Understood.”

      “And if you get tired of dealing with it, you’ll be honest.”

      He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

      “In that case,” she sighed, “how can I say no?”

      * * *

      Leo experienced a rush of jubilation far exceeding the appropriate response to Phoebe’s consent. Only at that moment did he realize how much he had been dreading the long parade of unstructured days. With the cabin renovation to give him focus each morning, perhaps this rehabilitative exile wouldn’t be so bad.

      Guiltily, he wondered what his brother would say about this new turn of events. Leo was pretty sure Luc pictured him sitting by a fire in a flannel robe and slippers reading a John Grisham novel. While Leo enjoyed fiction on occasion, and though Grisham was a phenomenal author, a man could only read so many hours of the day without going bonkers.

      Already, the idleness enforced by his recent illness had made the days and nights far too long. The doctor had cleared him for his usual exercise routine, but with no gym nearby, and sporting equipment that was useless in this environment, it was going to require ingenuity on his part to stay fit and active, especially given that it was winter.

      Suddenly, from down the hall echoed the distinct sound of a baby who was awake and unhappy.

      Phoebe jumped to her feet, nearly spilling her coffee in the process. “Oh, shoot. I forgot to bring the monitor in here.” She clunked her mug in the sink and disappeared in a flash of pink fur.

      Leo had barely drained his first cup and gone to the coffeepot for a refill when Phoebe reappeared, this time with baby Teddy on her hip. The little one was red-faced from crying. Phoebe smoothed his hair from his forehead. “Poor thing must be so confused not seeing his mom and dad every morning when he wakes up.”

      “But he knows you, right?”

      Phoebe sighed. “He does. Still, I worry about him day and night. I’ve never been the sole caregiver for a baby, and it’s scary as heck.”

      “I’d say you’re doing an excellent job. He looks healthy and happy.”

      Phoebe grimaced, though the little worried frown between her eyes disappeared. “I hope you’re right.”

      She held Teddy out at arm’s length. “Do you mind giving him his bottle while I shower and get dressed?”

      Leo backed up half a step before he caught himself. It was his turn to frown. “I don’t think either Teddy or I would like that. I’m too big. I scare children.”

      Phoebe gaped. Then her eyes flashed. “That’s absurd. Wasn’t it you, just last night, who was volunteering to help with the baby in return for your keep?”

      Leo shrugged, feeling guilty but determined not to show it. “I was thinking more in terms of carrying dirty diapers out to the trash. Or if you’re talking on the phone, listening to the monitor to let you know when he wakes up. My hands are too large and clumsy to do little baby things.”

      “You’ve never been around an infant?”

      “My brother has two small children, a boy and a girl. I see them several times a month, but those visits are more about kissing cheeks and spouting kudos as to how much they’ve grown. I might even bounce one on my knee if necessary,


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