The Billionaire's Christmas Baby

By: Victoria James

“Uh, no, I’ll stand here for a few minutes. I’m sure they’ll dry quickly by the fire.” Her face was still red as she moved closer to the fire.

Why should he care if she wanted to stay in wet jeans all night? “Why don’t I show you and uh—” He motioned to the baby with his chin. “—the baby your room?”

She nodded, but she bit on her lower lip. “Do you think I could have some hot water?”

“Hot water?”

“I need a small pot and some water on the stove to warm up a baby bottle. I can do it,” she said, reading his confusion.

“No it’s okay. I’ll be right back.”

Hannah stared at Jackson’s back as he walked out of the room. Outside, she’d been sure he was an ogre, that she’d made the wrong call in trying to find baby Emily’s uncle. But as soon as he told her the story of Charlie, she knew he had to have a heart underneath that cold exterior. And her instincts were never wrong. Now, all she had to do was chip away at him. She had less than twenty-four hours, but she could do it.

Once she’d found out his new name, information about Jackson had been easy. Jackson had started his own software company after graduating college, and he and his partner had turned it into a billion dollar company within ten years. His accomplishments were impressive, especially considering all he’d been through growing up. They shared a few similarities, not that he’d have any way of knowing that. She also knew that for all his success and all his money, he was notoriously private. So, her coming here declaring she knew things about his past must be disconcerting to say the least.

“Why don’t I show you the guest room and find some things for you to wear while the water boils?” he asked, walking back into the room. The impact of his words and the fact that she was going to stay overnight with him caused a ripple of hesitation through her body. She was a confident, independent, successful woman, so why did he make her feel like she was an insecure, self-conscious fifteen-year-old? Because he was nothing like the men she was used to. Not that she dated much, but when she did, they were not the intimidating type. She gravitated towards men that weren’t so tall, so built…so…

Jackson clearing his throat reminded her that he’d asked her something. Right. Wear? Was he going to offer her his clothes? Or did he have a stash from past girlfriends?

She forced a smile, trying to look her best to appear nonchalant, like she did this kind of thing all the time. “Yeah, that would be great.”

He nodded and walked past her, down the hallway adjacent to the kitchen.

“Come with me,” he said, not waiting for her. Hannah gave a quick glance to Emily and then followed him down the hall. There were three doors. Jackson passed the first room without saying anything and she assumed it was his. Hannah resisted the urge to peek her head in. From the looks of things around here, she could bet it was spotless. He stopped at the second door and Hannah pulled back abruptly before she walked into him.

“This is the washroom.” He flicked on the light switch and Hannah looked inside. It was a spacious, square washroom, and looked as though it had been recently renovated, much like the rest of the cabin. Rustic, tumbled marble floors in a creamy, earthy tone were the backdrop to the large, freestanding deep soaker tub. A massive, sparkling glass shower enclosure, with a rain-shower head, looked as good as it had on the bathroom special she’d just watched on TV. A neutral marble counter with matching his and hers sinks sat atop mahogany cabinets.

Hannah’s eyes settled on Jackson’s razor and toothbrush on the counter. Seeing his belongings felt oddly personal, private.

“Does it meet your approval?”

Hannah forced a smile. “It’s beautiful. Really, I’m sorry about how I intruded on you.”

The half smile that had teased his lips fell slightly, and his dark eyes held a note of surprise. Hannah took a step back. She didn’t know how they’d ended up standing so close, close enough that she could see the tiny flecks of cognac in his eyes, and the dark stubble on his face. And smell the fresh, woodsy aftershave he wore…


“We honestly never meant to spend the night here.”

“Whatever.” He walked into the washroom and opened a dark drawer, pulled out a toothbrush still in its packaging, along with a square basket wrapped in clear cellophane filled with women’s toiletries. He must have a lot of female guests.

“Help yourself to whatever you need, though I don’t have anything a baby could want.” He flicked off the switch and walked to the room next door without waiting for her to reply. He opened the next door, the one directly across from his, and felt for the light switch.

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