The Billionaire's Christmas Baby (13 page)

And if this were as close as she got, she’d die a happy woman.

Chapter Eleven

Jackson held the door for her with one hand, and carried her luggage with the other. Hannah gave him a small smile before walking by him and into his penthouse. He placed her bag on the ground and flicked on a table lamp in the foyer. Hannah ignored the jittery feeling in her stomach that had accompanied her from the church to the city. They had dropped Emily off at Mrs. Ford’s house knowing that next week they’d be able to bring her home with them. The drive had been quiet, most of the joy of the wedding slowly replaced by nerves as the reality that she was about to move in with Jackson set in.

“Come on, I’ll show you around,” Jackson said, his deep voice sounding loud in the silent penthouse. He took her hand, leading her inside. She was curious to see his home, nervous to be here with him like this. The main lights were still off, the room illuminated by a breathtaking view of the Toronto skyline that twinkled through the gleaming ten foot windows. It was an impressive room, filled with leather, glass, and dark woods. Stunning, but impersonal, cold, and nothing like the man she was coming to know.

“What do you think?” He loosened his tie as he stood in the center of the room.

Hannah was having a hard time coming up with a smart answer, distracted by the way he looked. The image of his body intertwined with hers at the cabin gripped her. She remembered the exact shade of his skin, his masculine scent, each clearly defined muscle, and how glorious he’d felt against her naked body.

“Hannah?”

She attempted a casual smile and forced her eyes away from his before she turned red. “It’s what I imagined it would be.”

“Why doesn’t that sound like a compliment?”

“It’s, um…” She bit on her lip. “How do I put this? It’s a very nice place for someone like you.”
There.

His smiled deepened and she resisted the urge to curl her toes. His smile should come with a warning attached. Allison’s words about his looks popped into her mind and she quickly darted her eyes away from his. This evening was going to be more awkward than she’d originally thought, and they hadn’t even had a tour of the bedrooms yet.

“Someone like me?”

“Well, no that’s wrong, actually,” she said, frowning as he removed his jacket. The long, lean lines of his body were perfectly outlined in the tailored suit. He was a beautiful man. She’d known that at the cabin. But seeing him dressed like this reminded her of the other side of him—the successful, powerful millionaire.

“You feeling okay?”

“Hmm?” She tore her eyes away and tried to remember what they were talking about. She took off her heels, absently touching the beading on the glorious dress he picked for her. He’d told Mrs. Holbrook she was special.

“I think you were getting ready to insult me,” he said, walking over to a liquor cabinet. When he gave her that boyish grin again, the image of him as a child, helping his mother into church with Louise beside them, sprang into her mind. Hannah pictured him a few mornings ago, telling her he was going to adopt Emily. And then she thought of him today, in the chapel that he’d filled with flowers, looking more handsome than anyone she’d ever seen.

“Hannah?” He said again, his voice rough.

“I was trying to come up with something clever,” she said, tears filling her eyes as worry furrowed his brow. She took a deep breath and spoke the most truth she’d ever spoken to anyone, throwing away her fear of rejection. “Thank you for today. Thank you for this dress,” she said, trying not to be alarmed that his eyes glimmered with emotion she’d never seen before.
Do it, Hannah. Say it.

“Thank you for making me feel special.” She breathed in a huge gulp of air, trying not to cry. She wasn’t going to hide from him, she thought, lifting her trembling chin. This one man had made her feel more important, and more cherished, than anyone she’d ever known.

…

Jackson stopped breathing because suddenly there was no air in the room. All he needed to breathe was her. His chest throbbed with an unfamiliar, all consuming ache. Damn, she had the power to bring him to his knees. She took away all the blame he imposed on himself, and healed him. She saw something in him that made him feel good, and he thanked a God he hadn’t spoken to in decades for her.

Jackson took her soft face in his hands, because he was incapable of not touching her. He refused to hide his feelings anymore, he needed her, and he was sure that in her own way she needed him. He had told himself that he wouldn’t touch her tonight. He’d wait for her to come to him, but her words, her candor shook him to the core.

“Thank you.” He paused, her eyes not leaving his, her body tense. “Thank you for banging down my door, for saving me and Emily.” Her soft skin was cradled in his hands and he knew there would be no going back tonight. He read the desire on her face, in the rise and fall of her chest, and knew she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. “You make me want to believe, Hannah. In all of it.” He took her mouth with his.

“I trust you, Jackson.” Her words sent the blood pumping through his body even faster. She opened her mouth, her tongue greeting him instantly, and he groaned with her sweet surrender. She molded herself to him and it felt as though hers was the only body he’d ever known. He felt her hands at the nape of his neck, and then lower, touching his chest, his arms.

…

Hannah felt him suck in his breath as her hands skimmed over him, loving the feel of him, the ripple of muscle. He groaned deep in his throat and picked her up, her legs straddling him in a way that made her wonder how she was capable of doing this and not being afraid. But he made her forget all thought, all memories. He made her
feel
. As his lips worshipped her skin, her mouth, her lips, and as his strong hands worshipped her body, the only thoughts were of pure, sweet need. She needed Jackson, needed to be with him, to have him fill that void that had been missing her entire life.

“Jackson,” she said. His hand cupped her breast. He didn’t answer, just made a throaty sound while his thumb grazed her nipple. And when she gasped against his mouth with pure delight, he cupped her bottom, lifted her higher against him, and dipped his head to make love to her nipple through the dress.

“Oh,” she moaned out loud, not even realizing she spoke and clutched his shoulders. She heard him curse and the next thing she knew she was in his arms, his mouth still locked onto hers and he carried her into a large bedroom lit by the glow of the skyline. He placed her on the bed, and Hannah reached out to pull him down to her, unable to bear any distance between them. She’d spent her life not knowing of his existence and now the tiniest of seconds without him was torture.

He slid her dress off. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He unhooked her ivory lace bra and lowered his body onto hers. Hannah thought she’d never felt anything so erotic as his powerful chest against hers, until he bent his head and captured her nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking until all she could do was whimper his name, arching her back off the bed, needing more.

“God, you are so beautiful, Hannah,” he said, his lips trailing kisses and words of praise down her hot skin. She gasped. He kissed her at the top of her underpants, watching her. She nodded and he gave a low moan, wriggling out of her underwear, until she was completely naked before him. She didn’t feel an ounce of fear. With him she was safe. His touch caressed her, telling her with his hands and with kisses how much he desired her, how much he cared for her, when he couldn’t utter the words. And when she tugged at his pants and he was naked on top of her, all she could think of was him entering her, filling her with himself, healing her, loving her.

“In all my life, I’ve never seen or tasted anything as beautiful as you,” he said in a low growl, licking and kissing his way down her body. All she could do was clasp his head to her and pray he never stopped. She didn’t realize that she’d said that aloud until she heard his muffled laugh.

“Believe me, if I die, this is how I want to go.” He touched her, tormented her inside with his fingers and for the first time she felt herself coming undone. He lay on top of her, his fingers increasing their erotic, insistent rhythm until she was arching against him. “Hannah,” he whispered in a tortured breath, “reach for it, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” And Hannah did, coming apart beneath him in wave after wave of sweet surrender. When she slowly began to resurface she reached for him, knowing that this wasn’t enough, she wouldn’t be complete without him.

“You’re sure?”

She nodded, grasping his hips against hers. He entered her, slowly and gently, bracing himself on his forearms. Hannah knew it was killing him to be so controlled. She tucked her head into his shoulder, her hands slowly traveling the length of him until she cupped his firm buttocks. “Come inside, Jackson, please,” she said, and finally he swiftly entered her fully. The pain was short, sweetness taking over until all Hannah could do was clutch him to her. His thrusts continued and continued. She cried out his name, digging her nails into his back, never imagining she could feel this way. Complete abandon, complete withdrawal from the person she thought she was to this…sweet heaven and both surrendered to their passion together.

…

Jackson stared down at the woman sleeping so peacefully in his arms and wondered how his life had seemed meaningful before her. He hadn’t been living for anyone but himself, and now he was living for her and Emily. He bent to kiss the top of her head, the gesture coming so naturally to him when it never had before. He heard her soft sigh and a tiny smile appeared at one corner of her luscious mouth. She curled deeper into him and continued sleeping. He didn’t think anything had ever felt so damn right as it did right now, with Hannah in his arms and Emily’s adoption being processed. Nothing would ever come between them.

The vibration of his BlackBerry on the nightstand beside him sounded loud and harsh. He gently untangled himself from Hannah and reached for his phone. It was his lawyer, Nicholas Wright. He, Nick, and Ethan had all gone to college together and Nick was someone he considered to be a good friend as well as the best lawyer in town. Jackson stood, pulling the duvet over Hannah, and shrugging into his boxers. He left the room, answering the call as he shut the door.

“Jackson, I’m sorry to call you so late. I’ve been trying to reach you all day,” Nicholas said, his voice sounding no more grim than usual.

“Yeah, I was busy getting married, remember?” Jackson said dryly, standing in front of the windows in the living room.

“Good, good. And that went well?”

Jackson chuckled. “Well, she didn’t leave me at the altar, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

When he didn’t hear his friend laugh on the other end, he knew it was serious.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but child services was contacted by a man claiming to be Emily’s father.”

Emily’s father
. Those words ricocheted through his body until he felt ill. “There is no father,” he whispered raggedly, looking over his shoulder at the closed bedroom door.

“We don’t know that it’s her father for sure. We’ll check this out, get the paternity tests done. There’s no reason to panic.”

“Who is he, Nick? If he was with my sister, he’s an addict. He’s probably after money. We can buy him off—”

“We have to do this by the book if we want to secure permanent custody. He’s not in town. We’ll know more when he gets here.”

“My sister didn’t know anyone that was decent enough to be able to raise a child. You have the note Louise left. It has my name on it. I’m that baby’s family,” he said, his hand tightening painfully around the phone.

“I know, I know. Like I said, don’t panic yet. This could be nothing. I just wanted you to be aware of what was happening.”

Jackson took a deep breath, thinking of the woman sleeping in his bed. She finally trusted him. He wasn’t going to let her down. He wasn’t going to let his niece down, or his sister. He’d been given a second chance and no one would get in the way of that.

“Keep me posted.” He threw his phone onto the couch and ran his hands down his face with a sigh. What was he going to tell Hannah? He played out each scenario in his head and guilt ripped through him. But seeing Hannah’s gorgeous face filled with pain over something that might not even be real made the decision easier for him. He wasn’t going to tell her anything. It might just be a false alarm. Why should he get her worried for no reason?

He stared out the window and then at his reflection. His mother was dead. His father was dead. His sister was dead. It was just him and Emily. They were family and he could never let her go now. Feelings of protectiveness ignited a part of him he thought had been dead after Louise. No one was going to come in and threaten the life they were going to build.

Jackson paused at the doorway of the bedroom, watching Hannah sleep. Peaceful. Beautiful. He hated that he was going to lie, knowing it was the only way to keep her from pain. But the serenity on her face reinforced that he was making the right decision by not telling her. She deserved happiness.

She opened her eyes, and his gut clenched as she immediately looked over for him.

“Hi,” he said walking into the room, pushing aside his guilt. He was doing this for her, that’s all he had to remember.

“That was better than I ever thought possible,” she whispered.

Jackson smiled, startled by her candor. He climbed into bed next to her, kissing her smooth shoulder. He felt goose bumps rise on her soft skin.

“Oh, I knew this was possible.” He inhaled her fragrant skin, unable to keep his hands and mouth off her.

“Do you remember that day at the cabin when you found my stash of books?” she asked, completely taking him by surprise. He nodded.

“I started reading romance a long time ago.” The corner of her mouth curled upward slightly, but somehow he knew it wasn’t the smile of a person about to recount a happy tale of their youth. Maybe because he felt like he knew her so well already, or maybe it was because he understood that posture, that rueful smile, as one he’d practiced many times.