The Billionaire's Christmas Baby

He stared into his lap, seeing his mother’s smile, so like his sister’s. It was an image he rarely indulged in because if there was one thing that could bring him to his knees, it was the thought of his mother, of his sister, of what his life once had been. To him, that was weakness, and he abhorred weakness in himself and others. “I heard that Louise died. I didn’t know there was a baby.”

“You didn’t go to the funeral.”

“I didn’t really think there was a point.”

“She killed herself.”

He nodded, ignoring the twisting in his gut. “I know.”

“It came as a total shock to all of us. I found a baby on a church doorstep. Her baby. Emily. She was one month old. Your sister left a note to find the baby’s uncle, Christopher James.” He didn’t have to look at her to know there were tears in her eyes.

Christopher James. Chris, as his mother and sister had called him. He swirled the whiskey in the glass, watching as the flames from the fire danced in the amber liquid. He knew no amount of the stuff would ease the pain. He had understood that nothing could ever take away gut-wrenching pain or sick memories. Louise hadn’t learned that lesson.

Emily. His sister had a baby. This baby. Maybe she was better off without his sister. He knew first-hand blood meant nothing when that person was a substance abuser. He had learned that the hard way. Jackson looked up at Hannah. “What about the baby’s father?”

Her green eyes were filled with pain that couldn’t be false. A part of him hated that—hated that the compassion and pain were so genuine. And a tiny, tiny part of him that didn’t want to acknowledge it felt comforted by her.

Hannah shook her head. “She didn’t know who the father was. You are Emily’s only relative. You are documented as her next of kin.”

He needed to shut this down before she got crazy ideas into her head. “So what do you want from me? To sign some papers—?”

“I want you to adopt her.” Jackson felt like someone had ripped his insides out with one hard tug. It was ridiculous. Absurd. It was one thing to inform him that he had a niece, and quite another to expect him to adopt her.

“Are you kidding me?” He bit back the profanities that he thought were missing from that statement to try and keep this civil.

She shook her head slowly.

He was speechless. She actually wanted him to keep his sister’s baby. The sister who turned on him, betrayed everything he’d ever done for her and tried to ruin him. He turned away from Hannah in disgust. Hannah was responsible for bringing all of this to him. He hadn’t asked for this crap. He should have let her drive away. Adopt a baby. It was so insane, the idea of him taking in a baby, that he didn’t even try and process it.

“Jackson?” He heard the concern in the soft voice that tried to coax him into speaking. He knew exactly what she was doing now. She wanted him to talk, to open up. Fat chance in hell. His muscles tensed even tighter. He stared into the fire. “You don’t know anything about me. I run a company. I work twelve hours a day and live in a penthouse in downtown Toronto. I don’t know anything about babies. I don’t want a baby.”

It didn’t faze her. She folded her hands on her lap and stared at him levelly. “She is your flesh and blood, Jackson. It was your sister’s last wish.”

“My sister was a junkie. I offered her help hundreds of times and she refused. If she wanted what was best for her baby she would have taken the help being offered and sobered up. Blood ties mean nothing to me.”

She nudged her chin toward his drink. “I changed my mind. Could I have a glass of whatever you’re drinking, please?”

He was surprised by the request. He nodded, walking across the room. A moment later she accepted the snifter of whiskey and took a sip while he sat down. He didn’t want to be impressed that she didn’t cough as she swallowed.

“I know you didn’t have a good relationship with your sister, but Emily is just a baby,” she said leaning forward.

He shrugged and ground his teeth together. This was not his problem, no matter how hard she tried to make him think it was.

She frowned at him when he didn’t answer. “She’ll be placed in foster care if you don’t adopt her.”

He tried not to feel anything, especially the ugly emotions that had consumed him for years. The bitterness, the anger… no, he wanted to continue feeling nothing.

…

Hannah crossed her legs in front of her nervously and watched as Jackson digested that last piece of info. She tried not to panic. It didn’t look as though she got through to him at all. The only sign she had that he processed what she said was the rigid, tense lines in his body. If she completely angered him, she’d ruin her chance at getting him to agree to this. But if she stopped now, he might not let her broach this again and tomorrow she was leaving.

“The foster care system is a place for children who don’t have any family capable of caring for them. Your sister thought she could trust her daughter to you.” Hannah would have given anything to have been adopted by some long-lost relative who had come forward to rescue her, to know that she was connected to someone.

She held her breath. He looked into the bottom of his empty glass and then up at her. “Well, I’m sure there’s lots of great people out there who want a kid.”

“There are, but there are also no guarantees. And in the meantime she’ll be in foster care. You don’t know where she’ll end up—”

“It’s not my problem. If my sister wanted me to have anything to do with this baby she would have contacted me when she was born.”

“She said she’d tried so many times in the past, but that you refused to see her. After Emily was born, I think something happened. She became fragile again. I don’t think she could have handled your rejection.” Hannah couldn’t filter out the accusation from her voice. She had her own guilt to work through for not noticing any signs that Louise was failing, but her brother did too. Hannah knew she was too emotionally close to this case, but her past collided with baby Emily’s and she was desperate to honor Louise’s wish.

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.