The Billionaire's Christmas Baby (4 page)

He scowled at her. “Did she tell you that after I spent years protecting her she bailed on me? That I searched for her and tried to help her? That she and her addict friends broke into my house and trashed it, stealing everything of value I had? That I almost lost everything when I started out because I trusted her?”

Oh, Louise had told her all right. When Louise had been sober she’d confided so many things to Hannah. And whenever she spoke of her older brother her voice had been filled with such pain. She had stopped seeking him out after that night of the break-in. She’d told her of their childhood—before and after their mother had died.

Hannah stared at the handsome, strong lines of Jackson’s face and tried to picture the fun-loving, energetic boy that Louise had described. She tried to see the teen who had always stepped in to defend his sister against their father. The one who took beatings to spare his younger sister. And she could see it, she could see the boy that had become stronger, taller, and had finally been able to overpower their father. She could see all of that—Jackson was strong and loyal. If he felt that need to protect his sister at one time, surely he would do it for her innocent baby.

Hannah placed her empty glass on the side table. “Your sister had a lot of regrets. How your relationship ended up was her biggest. She was humiliated. Louise said as soon as she got her life together, she was going to try and reconnect with you. She was devastated by how she treated you. You were her protector.” Her voice trailed off as she watched his jaw clench and unclench. She could tell he struggled with his control. Jackson finally broke the silence, his voice harshly tearing through the calm.

“It’s a little late for regrets, isn’t it?”

“You can’t change the past. Your sister is gone, but you have a niece who needs you. Emily hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not her fault that her mother killed herself.”

Hannah watched his lip curl into a smile that tried to appear mocking, but the pain was etched on his face so strongly that Hannah could almost feel it herself.

“No, and it sure as hell isn’t my fault either. She’ll be better off with someone who wants a child.”

Hannah squeezed her sweaty palms in her lap. “It doesn’t work that way. No one magically gets placed with the world’s best parents. She needs
you
. You are her uncle. She needs someone tied to her past. She needs someone her mom trusted. What better person is there?”

Jackson tilted his head back and she studied the strong line of his jaw and neck. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want her baby.”

“Stop thinking of yourself.”

He jerked his head around to meet her eyes. She could read the surprise in his eyes—and the anger.

Hannah concentrated on the sounds of the crackling fireplace and Charlie’s soft snore. The tension in Jackson’s frame was contagious. The air felt hot and prickly.

“You think a bachelor who has never even held a baby is a good choice for a father—the man that abandoned his family and changed his name to forget them? I turned my back on my sister. I refused to see her, I refused to talk to her.” He finished off the rest of his whiskey with a sharp swallow. Hannah felt the pain of his regret, even if he wouldn’t admit to it. It was embodied in every tightly wound muscle in his body, in the lines in his face. He regretted what had happened with Louise and that gave Hannah hope that there was still a chance. She wanted to tell him everything—about her past, about the other reason she wanted him to adopt Emily. But she couldn’t talk about that and stay detached. She was already in way over her head.

“You are her
uncle
.”

“Stop saying that.”

Hannah looked into his eyes and then nodded. “Louise made mistakes, Jackson. Her baby shouldn’t have to suffer for them.”

“Why the hell do you care so much anyway?”

She clenched her hands to keep from shaking. “I don’t want her to enter the system,” Hannah whispered, almost choking on the words. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to block the image of handing over that baby to some foster family, not knowing what would happen to her. She had broken a cardinal rule—she had gotten too close to Louise and Emily. She wouldn’t be able to keep Emily safe once she left Mrs. Ford’s. She wouldn’t have unlimited access to her like she did now. She held her breath as she waited for him to say something. It was obvious he didn’t want to hear what she said. “You’ll regret it,” she said softly, forcing herself to walk over to him on legs that felt like jelly. She watched his jaw clench at her words. She felt the heat of the fire on her face, the flames attacking the pile of logs, the strength of the fire burning any hope she had of Jackson agreeing to this.

But she had to tell him. “This decision will haunt you. It won’t erase your past and it definitely won’t take away your pain. Emily will be gone, but that anger, that resentment you feel toward your sister won’t go away. It’ll eat away at you until you’re not the same person anymore. You’ll be going about your life and then you’ll stop every now and then and wonder what happened to that little baby. You’ll wonder if someone is looking out for her the way you did for Louise. You’ll wonder if the system failed her the way it failed you.”

“Enough!” He growled into the fire, sounding more like a wounded animal than a man. Hannah didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He finally turned to look at her, his brown eyes dark and void.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Hannah. I don’t know what the hell made you think you had the right to come here and find me, but that was your first mistake. You don’t know a damn thing about my life, so don’t apply your ideals to me. Tomorrow, when the road gets plowed, go home.”

Chapter Four

Hannah tried not to let her smile waiver as Emily drifted off to dreamland. She decided that a smile should be the last thing Emily saw before she went to sleep.

Emily sighed deeply, made a little sucking motion with her rosebud lips, and finally succumbed to a deep slumber. Hannah held on to her smile for a second longer before reaching for her phone. She needed to call Allison. She knew her best friend and fellow social worker would be out of her mind with worry. Seconds later her friend’s voice greeted her on the other end of the line.

“Allie? It’s me,” Hannah whispered into the phone.

“Oh my God! I’ve been calling you for the last four hours!”

“I know, I know, reception has been sucky, I’m sorry—”

“Why would you have bad reception? You live down the street from the office.”

Hannah cleared her throat, preparing for the onslaught she was about to endure from her friend. “Well, I’m not exactly in Hope’s Crossing right now.”

“Oh my God, you didn’t—”

“I did. I’m here.”

“Hannah, I thought I talked you out of that crazy idea. You could be charged with kidnapping.”

“Mrs. Ford signed off on me taking Emily up here.”

“Fine, but what about Jean? She’s going to chop you up and kick your butt out of the department.” Jean, their boss, played everything by the book. She hated that Hannah took chances and resented that Allison wasn’t afraid of using her contacts and friends to help a child. Allison had helped Hannah out more than once, so Jean had it out for both of them.

“Not if I get Emily’s uncle to adopt her. I had no choice, Allie. You know that. I screwed things up with Louise. The least I can do is make sure Em is placed with her uncle,” Hannah said, sitting on the large bed.

“What happened to Louise wasn’t your fault. I know you were close to her and I know your history, but you’ve put everything on the line here. Louise wouldn’t blame you for backing down.”

“Not going to happen,” Hannah said, staring at Emily. Hannah had made a makeshift bed for the baby beside her, careful that it wasn’t too soft and that she couldn’t fall off.

“Have I ever told you you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met? I will do everything on my end to hold off the witch-hunt. So, you’ve met Louise’s brother? And I’m assuming he’s met Emily?”

Hannah fidgeted with the hem of the long shirt Jackson gave her to wear. “Technically yes, we’ve all met.”

“What do you mean technically met?”

Hannah glanced over her shoulder, and lowered her voice. “Well…”

“What did he say? Will he do it?”

No.
And that crushed her because every now and then during the evening with him she would catch glimpses of the man she thought he might be. But everything that came out of his mouth contradicted that. Maybe she was a dreamer, a hopeless romantic who wanted to believe that the reclusive, handsome billionaire would drop everything to save his innocent niece. But Jackson wasn’t like that at all. Scratch that. He
was
handsome, more than he deserved to be considering his attitude. And he
was
a self-made billionaire, which again made things even worse because that meant he had drive, talent, and brains.

“Hello, what did he say? Is he going to adopt her?”

The image of Jackson Pierce telling her to get the hell off his property sprang to mind. “He hasn’t exactly agreed yet,” Hannah said, wishing her phone would lose reception.

“He said
no?
”

“It was just shock talking, I’m sure. Listen, I’ll call you when I’m on my way back. The weather is brutal out here, so I’m stuck for the night. But he’s a great…” Hannah tried not to choke on her lie. “…a great host and we’ll be fine. Oh dear, I think Em is waking up. I’ll talk to you later, Allie. You’re the best.”

“Hannah,” her friend groaned. She could just picture her blue eyes filled with worry.

“Bye,” Hannah whispered, not giving Allison a chance to ask any more questions. Hannah hoped to hell some sort of a miracle would happen between now and tomorrow morning.

In the crisp, bright morning that would surely follow the blizzard, maybe he’d have some sort of awakening… An odd noise interrupted the droning sound of the wind outside. She glanced over at Emily. It wasn’t her. What was it?

She paused, listening.

Just wind.

Then she heard it again. It came from the hallway. Her heart started pounding and she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her bare feet padded across the room and she stopped at the door and listened again.

Nothing.

She opened the door slowly and peered into the hallway. Everything was dark except for the small bedside lamp she’d left on in her room. Jackson’s lights were off. She flicked on the hallway light and tiptoed close to the great room… and then she heard it, a mumbling, almost a groan. She turned around and walked to stand outside Jackson’s room. It was definitely him.

Her palms started sweating as she contemplated what to do. It wasn’t like they were friends. In fact, his last words
had
been to get the hell out of his house tomorrow. She couldn’t just walk into his room and intrude. But then again, if he was sick, wasn’t it her duty as a human being to help him? And she
was
a social worker. Wasn’t it her job to help people? She bit her lower lip, her right hand on the doorknob.
Okay, Hannah, if you don’t hear anything for another minute leave and go to your bedroom. If you hear him again you’ve got to walk in.

Sure enough, a few seconds later she heard him again. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, the floorboards creaking as she walked across the threshold. She held her breath but didn’t move. The room was dark so she opened the door fully, letting the light from the hallway cast enough of a glow so that she could see where she walked. Jackson was in bed. A dark duvet was thrown off his body and he lay on his back, his head turned away from hers.

The one thing she could make out clearly was that Jackson only slept in boxers. And every inch of his long frame was solid and muscular. That strength that was so obvious, even while he slept, made her slightly nervous. After their time together and his words about never touching a woman in anger, she believed him. She did trust him in that respect.

She watched him for a few more seconds. She really should stop staring. Honestly, it wasn’t like he was the first beautiful man she’d ever seen. Okay, well, maybe the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
Snap out of it, Hannah.
It was an invasion of his space, and he looked fine now.

She started to tiptoe out of the room, wincing as each creak in the floor sounded louder than the storm outside. She had almost made it to the open door when a guttural cry that sent shivers down her spine tore through the room. She whipped her head around to look at Jackson. He still slept. His eyes were shut. She could make out the pain in his features, and she saw the sweat lining his forehead. He was having some sort of nightmare.

She had to wake him up, but that would mean getting close to him. What if he lashed out at her without realizing what he was doing in his sleep? Or when he woke, he could be horribly upset that she’d intruded. She couldn’t stand here and do nothing.

Her eyes scanned the room frantically and then settled on a stack of books on his bedside table. Maybe she could nudge him awake with a book. A hardcover. At least she’d be able to keep a little bit of a distance, and she wouldn’t have to touch his bare skin. Perfect.

When she saw him clench the sheet, his forearm and hand rigid with strain, she finally moved. She quickly grabbed the top book on the stack and moved beside him. She bit her lower lip and tapped him on the shoulder with the book. Then she quickly stepped back, almost tripping over her own feet.

Nothing. He still didn’t wake up.

She inched forward again, holding her breath, book in hand and plunged it into his shoulder. Suddenly a hand that felt like steel clamped down hard on her wrist and yanked her onto the bed, flipping her over and pinning her on her back. Jackson’s strong, muscular legs straddled hers and locked her arms down beside her head. She stared into his eyes and knew he wasn’t quite awake. She stayed perfectly still, her heart pounding painfully in her chest, waiting for him to become aware of what he was doing.

“Jackson.”

His eyes went from blankness to reality. He swore loudly and ducked his head, pushing off of her and rolling onto his back beside her on the bed.

Hannah lay still beside him. She tried to catch her breath but couldn’t move yet. Her body felt like a quivering mass of gelatin.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know it was you,” Jackson said a moment later, his voice raw and gruff. “Are you okay?”

Hannah struggled to regain her composure. She glanced over at him, his rigid posture unmistakable in the dim lighting. “I should be asking you that.”

He ran his hands over his face roughly. “I sometimes have, uh, nightmares.”

“I heard you from my room, I thought you were sick or I never would have come in here,” she said haltingly, not knowing if he was angry with her.

“God, I never meant to scare you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, before turning to look at her. Hannah felt her heart jolt unexpectedly at the softness in his voice. He wasn’t angry at all. He wasn’t the same man in front of the fire yelling at her to go home. She looked into his eyes and saw how soft and warm they could be. She noticed the shape of his lips. They were sensual, perfectly shaped. He had turned on his side so that he faced her completely. She was still on her back, there was no way she’d turn too… it was too… intimate.

When she lifted her eyes to meet his she saw that he was still looking at her. She remembered he had asked her if he had scared her. “You didn’t. I’m not afraid of you,” she finally answered, her voice sounding strange to her ears. “Besides,” she said, forcing herself to sound flippant, “I’ve taken lots of self defense classes. I could have tossed you to the ground with one foot if I needed to.”

The sound of Jackson’s deep laughter filled the room and made her smile involuntarily in the darkness. He had a rich and deep laugh. She didn’t want to notice that either.

“I’ll be sure to remember that,” he said, the smile still in his voice.

They were whispering in the darkness. The intimacy of the situation was not lost on her. His body was so close that she could feel the warmth emanating from him. She could smell his soap combined with his own masculine scent, and she found herself responding to him in a way that was anything but platonic. And that was not a good idea. She frowned down at her clothes. Both of them were wearing far too little clothing for two people who barely knew each other. She needed to get off the bed pronto.

“You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

She nodded frantically as she watched his hands move to gently grasp her wrists. He looked them over. She
couldn’t
say anything because she had lost her voice. His hands were warm, large, and a delicious, molten heat began swimming through her as he held on. His thumb grazed the soft, velvety underside of her wrist and the innocent touch felt anything but. She quickly slipped her wrists out of his hands, needing her body to not be in contact with his, but she wasn’t prepared for the loss she felt at not having him touch her. Not good. And there was no way she was going to acknowledge the meaning behind the fact that he was the first man she found herself wanting to touch her since… a long time.

“You didn’t hurt me.” Why did her voice have to sound so breathy? She couldn’t break his gaze. The air was warm and like a cocoon, capturing them in a false sense of familiarity. She needed to get out of the room and away from an enticingly half-naked Jackson. Because right now, more than anything, she wanted to reach out to touch his bare skin. She was drawn to him and she shouldn’t have been. As soon as she got back into the safety of her own room she was going to list each despicable trait the man had and then do a personality comparison list to Ebenezer Scrooge. That should sufficiently deal with any sort of misplaced desire she had.

“I’m still sorry.” He braced himself on his forearms, watching her closely. She could make out the lighter shades of cognac in his eyes, and the softness, the warmth was still there. She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. She should be concentrating on the list.

“It was no big deal.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Why had she asked that? Why wasn’t she moving?
Get off the darn bed, Hannah.

“For waking me up.” His eyes fell to her lips and she felt a heat bloom from deep within her. Then his gaze wandered up to her eyes and traveled the length of her body. Suddenly she felt like she wore absolutely nothing. She tugged roughly at the T-shirt to cover a little more of her exposed legs. And then he smiled again, a sort of sexy, satisfied grin. The kind that told her he knew exactly why she was so uncomfortable, and that he liked it.

She needed to get out of here. Again, her body wasn’t getting the message her brain was frantically communicating, so she didn’t move.

“Hannah?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you come here, really?”

She turned to look at him. “Here? Like your room?”

He shook his head. “The cabin.”

She frowned at him. “I told you, I want you to adopt your sister’s baby.”

He nodded and shrugged gently. She refused to be taken in by the display of muscles that that one little move caused to ripple through his upper body.
Concentrate.

“I know, you said that, but you can’t possibly do this for all your cases. You drove through a blizzard. You tracked down a guy who changed his name, which you must’ve pulled a hell of a lot of strings to do. This goes beyond job dedication, don’t you think?”

She stared up at the ceiling, trying not to reveal any emotion. She couldn’t exactly explain something that she’d barely figured out herself. “I feel responsible, you know? I got to know your sister. I never thought she would have—” She paused for a moment. “Killed herself and then when I found Emily on the church doorstep, I—” She tried to hide the emotion in her throat but couldn’t control the catch. “I knew I had to do what’s best for her. I brought her home that night and held her. She’s this tiny, perfect, innocent little girl. She deserves the best, not to be cast aside and left with strangers. She needs someone to protect her, to give her a wonderful, happy childhood.” She stopped talking because she wouldn’t be able to hold back her pain anymore, or the rest of the truth. Lying in his bed like this made her realize how much was missing from her life. In the darkness of the night, in the warm shelter from the storm, the enigmatic man beside her made her yearn for so much—someone to speak with in the dead of the night, someone to share a bed with.