The Billionaire's Christmas Baby

by Victoria James

  “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.

  “I started out a lot like Emily,” she said softly. “I was left in the cold, on a church doorstep, except there was no uncle, no long-lost relative, so I entered the foster care system.”

  Jackson couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He watched her blink rapidly, her eyes focused on the ceiling. It all clicked together so quickly, he wondered how he’d missed it.

  “All I remember is never feeling loved. I didn’t have much I could call my own. I didn’t have a house, parents, anyone or anything…” Hannah paused for a moment and Jackson used every ounce of self-control to not say anything, to let her continue speaking. “Everything I had was in a suitcase, ready to be packed in case it was time for me to move to another home. I never had anything that was truly mine until I bought my house.”

  Jackson clenched his teeth, angry on her behalf, hurt for her.

  “When I was old enough to realize that I could get out of the system as an adult, that’s what I concentrated on. But there were times, depending on which foster home I was in, that getting out of the system seemed too far away. Some foster homes were better than others.”

  He heard the catch in her voice and caught the faint tremble in her chin, but she continued on, telling him things that he wished to God she’d never had to endure. “And then on my way home from school one day, I passed by the library and they were having a used book sale. I stopped at a pale purple book, and the title on the spine was A Kingdom of Dreams. And from the moment I opened that book until I shut it, I was a goner. It took me to a place where love conquered all, where men were honorable and—” She paused for a moment and he suspected when she cleared her throat it was to stop the tears. He waited for her to finish, feeling his own tension at her words, imagining her as this young teenager who learned to believe in happily-ever-after.

  “The heroine actually got her kingdom in the end—her knight, his love.” She touched his cheek, then pulled him down to her, and he kissed her, met and understood her need for him because it matched his own.

  He pushed aside his guilt again—he was protecting her. He’d make everything right for her, for all of them. As their bodies melded, Jackson vowed that one day he’d give Hannah her kingdom.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Would you like to help?”

  He shook his head quickly to be safe. He had absolutely no idea what Hannah was up to. He’d gotten home from work, and instead of greeting Hannah at her usual post, amidst a stack of psychology books, she was in the kitchen. She looked sexy as hell in jeans and a snug-fitting sweater, her hair up in a ponytail and her cheeks rosy from…he had no idea what.

  “I’d help you if I knew what you were doing,” he said, planting a kiss on her soft lips.

  “Excellent!” Hannah said, and thrust an apron in his direction. “I’m baking, Jackson. It’s almost Christmas and we don’t have any treats in this house,” she said, sidestepping him to take out a tray of cookies from the oven.

  “Is Emily sleeping?” His love for Emily had been the most unexpected realization. Not duty or obligation, but love. It had sort of snuck up on him when he was holding her or talking to her, and when Hannah had brought her to the office for a surprise visit, and Emily had spit up all over Ethan’s desk because she’d been so excited to see Jackson.

  Hannah nodded. “Yup, but she should be waking up soon.”

  “Do babies eat cookies?”

  “No, babies don’t eat these.” She frowned at him. “Have you heard anything from Nicholas?”

  His heart slammed painfully. Jackson shook his head. “No, but everything should be finalized by the end of the week. You know all this, Hannah. I’m next of kin, we’re married, and financially stable, and even our visit with the caseworker was perfect.” So far, Emily’s supposed father hadn’t even shown up. Nicholas agreed it was probably some desperate attempt by a junkie to get some money.

  She nodded, biting her lower lip. “I’ll feel better once everything is signed and she’s ours. It’s always bothered me that Emily’s father is MIA.”

  Jackson’s mouth went dry. “We are her parents.” In the last two weeks, living with Hannah and Emily had entrenched his determination to make legal what he knew in his heart to be true. There was no way in hell he’d allow someone to come in here and take away the family they were building together.

  Hannah smiled at him. “You’re right.”

  “Just hang tight.”

  His stomach growled loudly and he made a beeline for the tray filled with cookies. Hannah laughed and held up her hand, blocking him.

  “No way. You have to help me. And besides, these haven’t been decorated yet,” she said, carefully placing each cookie, one by one, on a cooling rack.

  “What about these?” He picked up a box filled with red sparkly cookies.

  Hannah pried the box from his hands. “Those are for Ethan. Bring them into the office tomorrow,” she said, placing the lid on the box.

  “Why are you making Ethan cookies?”

  Hannah sighed and adjusted her apron. He tried not to get distracted. He should just take that apron off.

  “Because he called here a few minutes ago. I mentioned I was baking Christmas cookies and he asked if I could make some for him.”

  “Ethan? My business partner?” Jackson didn’t think he’d ever seen Ethan eat a cookie.

  She nodded, hands on her hips. “Apparently he likes red sprinkles.”

  “Red sprinkles?”

  She nodded, this time a smile breaking. “Yes.”

  “He doesn’t need cookies. Ethan
grew up with a slew of nannies and housekeepers and cooks. I, on the other hand, was just a poor, neglected boy, so the cookies are mine,” he said, laughing as Hannah shook her head. It was the first time he’d ever joked about his childhood.

  “All right, Tiny Tim, roll up your sleeves and help me make these.”

  “I don’t know anything about cookies, except eating them.”

  “You afraid?”

  Her hands were in the bowl and the batter looked thick and doughy. He was not one to back down from a challenge. “You’re the one who should be afraid,” he said, smiling as she laughed. He took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Evidently, he’d do anything for her.

  “So what do I do?”

  “We’re going to roll this out and then make different Christmas shapes. Since you don’t have any cookie cutters, we have to make them by hand.”

  He frowned. “Christmas shapes?”

  He watched as she rolled the dough until it was thin and smooth. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Christmas trees, bells, angels, you know, anything Christmas-y.”

  “Right,” he said with a decisive nod. He grabbed a piece of the dough and concentrated on making a tree, while the sound of Christmas songs floated into the kitchen. Before Hannah, not one Christmas carol had ever been heard in his penthouse.

  “What is that! That looks like some sort of alien!” Hannah’s shriek of laughter made Jackson look down at the cookie he was making. It did resemble an alien. He frowned and looked over at hers. Sure enough, she could make a perfectly shaped tree. He thought of something then, the memory of that night that now seemed so long ago.

  “Hannah,” he said, grabbing her by the waist, not caring that both their hands were filled with cookie dough as she willingly stepped into his arms. “I’m sorry about those damn cookies,” he said gruffly, leaning down to capture her lips. She kissed him back easily and lovingly.

  “You’ve been sampling cookies,” he said between kisses. She pulled him closer, tugging at the back of his neck, and pretty soon Jackson was trying to decide whether or not she’d yell at him if he swept all her cookie dough off the counter and made love to her right then and there.