One Night Before Christmas. Robyn Grady

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One Night Before Christmas - Robyn Grady Mills & Boon M&B

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and how to can fruits and vegetables. I know how to make preserves. And I can even churn my own butter in a pinch, though that seems a bit of a stretch in this day and age.”

      He studied her, trying to get to the bottom of what she wasn’t saying. “I understand all that,” he said. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d guess you were a free spirit, hippie-commune, granola-loving Earth Mother. But something doesn’t add up. How did you get from stockbroker to this?”

      * * *

      Phoebe understood his confusion. None of it made sense on paper. But was she willing to expose all of her painful secrets to a man she barely knew? No...not just yet.

      Picking her words carefully, she gave him an answer. Not a lie, but not the whole truth. “I had some disappointments both personally and professionally. They hit me hard...enough to make me reconsider whether the career path I had chosen was the right one. At the time, I didn’t honestly know. So I took a time-out. A step backward. I came here and decided to see if I could make my life simpler. More meaningful.”

      “And now? Any revelations to report?”

      She raised an eyebrow. “Are you mocking me?”

      He held up his hands. “No. I swear I’m not. If anything, I have to admire you for being proactive. Most people simply slog away at a job because they don’t have the courage to try something new.”

      “I wish I could say it was like that. But to be honest, it was more a case of crawling in a hole to hide out from the world.”

      “You don’t cut yourself much slack, do you?”

      “I was a mess when I came here.”

      “And now?”

      She thought about it for a moment. No one had ever asked her straight-out if her self-imposed exile had borne fruit. “I think I have a better handle on what I want out of life. And I’ve forgiven myself for mistakes I made. But do I want to go back to that cutthroat lifestyle? No. I don’t.”

      “I know this is a rude question, but I’m going to ask it anyway. What have you done for money since you’ve been out of work?”

      “I’m sure a lot of people wonder that.” She put the baby on her shoulder and burped him. “The truth is, Leo. I’m darned good at making money. I have a lot stashed away. And since I’ve been here, my weekly expenses are fairly modest. So though I can’t stay here forever, I certainly haven’t bankrupted myself.”

      “Would you say your experience has been worth it?”

      She nodded. “Definitely.”

      “Then maybe there’s hope for me after all.”

      * * *

      Phoebe was glad to have Teddy as a buffer. Sitting with Leo in a firelit room on a cold December night was far too cozy. But when Teddy finished his bottle and was ready to play, she had no choice but to get down on the floor with him and let him roll around on the faux bearskin rug. He had mastered flipping from his back to his tummy. Now he enjoyed the increased mobility.

      She was truly shocked when Leo joined them, stretching out on his right side and propping his head on his hand. “How long ’til he crawls?”

      “Anytime now. He’s already learned to get his knees up under him, so I don’t think it will be too many more weeks.” Leo seemed entirely relaxed, while Phoebe was in danger of hyperventilating. Anyone watching them might assume they were a family...mom, dad and baby. But the truth was, they were three separate people who happened to be occupying the same space for the moment.

      Teddy was her nephew, true. But he was on loan, so to speak. She could feed him and play with him and love him, but at the end of the day, he wasn’t hers. Still, what could it hurt to pretend for a while?

      She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Ordinarily, she would have lain down on her stomach and played with Teddy at his level. But getting horizontal with Leo Cavallo was not smart, especially since he was in touching distance. She’d give herself away, no doubt. Even with a baby between them, she couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be to spend an unencumbered hour with her new houseguest.

      Some soft music on the radio, another bottle of wine, more logs on the fire. And after that...

      Her heartbeat stuttered and stumbled. Dampness gathered at the back of her neck and in another, less accessible spot. Her breathing grew shallow. She stared at Teddy blindly, anything to avoid looking at Leo. Not for the world would she want him to think she was so desperate for male company that she would fall at his feet.

      Even as she imagined such a scenario, he rolled to his back and slung an arm across his face. Moments later, she saw the steady rise and fall of his chest as he gave in to sleep.

      Teddy was headed in the same direction. His acrobatics had worn him out. He slumped onto his face, butt in the air, and slept.

      Phoebe watched the two males with a tightness in her chest that was a combination of so many things. Yearning for what might have been. Fear of what was yet to come. Hope that somewhere along the way she could have a family of her own.

      Her sleepless night caught up with her, making her eyelids droop. With one wary look at Leo to make sure he was asleep, she eased down beside her two companions and curled on her side with Teddy in the curve of her body. Now she could smell warm baby and wood smoke, and perhaps the faint scent of Leo’s aftershave.

      Closing her eyes, she sighed deeply. She would rest for a moment....

       Seven

      Leo awoke disoriented. His bed felt rock-hard, and his pillow had fallen on the floor. Gradually, he remembered where he was. Turning his head, he took in the sight of Phoebe and Teddy sleeping peacefully beside him.

      The baby was the picture of innocence, but Phoebe... He sucked in a breath. Her position, curled on her side, made the neckline of her sweater gape, treating him to an intimate view of rounded breasts and creamy skin. Her hair tumbled around her face as if she had just awakened from a night of energetic sex. All he had to do was extend his arm and he could stroke her belly beneath the edge of her top.

      His sex hardened to the point of discomfort. He didn’t know whether to thank God for the presence of the kid or to curse the bad timing. The strength of his desire was both surprising and worrisome. Was he reacting so strongly to Phoebe because he was in exile and she was the only woman around, or had his long bout of celibacy predisposed him to want her?

      Either way, his hunger for her was suspect. It would be the height of selfishness to seduce her because of boredom or propinquity. Already, he had taken her measure. She was loving, generous and kind, though by no means a pushover. Even with training in what some would call a nonfeminine field, she nevertheless seemed completely comfortable with the more traditional roles of childcare and homemaking.

      Phoebe was complicated. That, more than anything else, attracted him. At the moment a tiny frown line marked the space between her brows. He wanted to erase it with a kiss. The faint shadowy smudges beneath her eyes spoke of her exhaustion. He had been around his brother and sister-in-law enough to know that dealing with infants was harrowing and draining on

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