“What did you tell her?” He was genuinely interested in knowing how the hell this woman had managed to get the address of his cabin.
“I may have said it was a matter of life or death.”
He rolled his eyes. He was surprised Ann fell for that. “You seem to use that line as a catch-all, don’t you?”
“Well, I really did need to find you. And she was quite concerned when I mentioned the death part,” she said, lifting her chin. Something about the way she stood, the way she wouldn’t stop looking at him made him uneasy.
But no matter what, he knew she was here to tell him something he didn’t want to know. Not that it should matter. Nothing she could tell him would make him change his mind about his family.
He turned his back to her, focusing on the fire that didn’t need his attention at all. He heard her shuffling around and then the quiet padding of her feet across the wood floor.
“I’m sorry to bombard you with this.”
He ignored her attempt to open up the conversation. He turned to look at her, eyeing her snow-soaked pants. “Do you want to take off your jeans?”
Her green eyes grew comically large. “Pardon me?”
He almost laughed out loud at her expression. “I mean, you’re soaked. I can get you a blanket or something and you can put your jeans in the dryer.”
“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…
“And?”
“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.
“This is beautiful.” There was a king-sized mahogany sleigh-bed with a chocolate brown velvet duvet and matching throw pillows that looked so magnificent and comfortable that Hannah fought the urge to run over and sink into it. A stone fireplace was on the outside wall, with two leather armchairs in front of it accompanied by matching side tables and an antique rug.
“Thanks,” Jackson said, walking past her and turning on the bedside lamp.
Hannah tucked her hair behind one ear. “You have good taste.”
He smiled a patronizing, bored smile. “I had an interior designer do it.”
Of course he did, Hannah. As if he would have spent weeks picking out fabrics for curtains and duvet covers. “Oh. Well. She, or whoever did a great job.”
Hannah walked over to the bed and opened her purse. She felt like an idiot for letting her guard down and actually trying to have a conversation with him. Why couldn’t he have been the stereotypical computer geek with pale skin, thick glasses, and scrawny body? Maybe if she started getting settled he’d get the hint and leave her alone for a few minutes, long enough to contact Mrs. Ford and let her know that she was going to be delayed.
“I’ll get you some something to sleep in,” he said, leaving the room.
A minute later, Jackson was beside her holding a folded navy blue T-shirt. “Here, it’ll be a bit big, but it should be okay for one night.”
Hannah took the T-shirt without looking at him and placed it on the bed. It was his. “Thanks.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen whenever you want that hot water.”
“Sure,” she mumbled. This was going to be the longest night of her life. She hoped Emily would sleep well tonight. She could use all the rest she could get.
“I’ll let you get settled. There’s a phone beside the bed if you need it. I’d use it sooner than later. I wouldn’t be surprised if the phone lines go down. Cell phone reception out here gets a bit sketchy at the best of times.”
“Great. I’ll, uh, be a few minutes.”
He walked out of the room without saying anything.
…
Jackson leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at the baby sleeping in the car seat. What he’d give for a night’s sleep like that. He had moved her closer to the fire. Even a moron knew not to keep a baby by a door during a blizzard. He ran his hands through his hair, letting out a rough sigh. His evening had been going perfectly well until little-miss-smart-mouth crashed his annual escape-Christmas bash.
He glanced down at his watch. What was taking her so long? What if the baby woke up?
He decided she’d had more than enough time to get settled, he thought walking down the hall to her room. Besides, she was staying for one night, not a month.
He stopped himself from walking into her room. He heard her voice, her door slightly ajar. He would have knocked, but when he heard his name, he thought it might be wise to listen first.