The Billionaire's Christmas Baby

She gave him a sarcastic salute with her hand while she shook with rage. He said something under his breath and walked out.

She forced herself to take a few deep breaths and collapsed onto the sofa. She needed to regain control, she thought, trying to catch her breath. He had ignored everything. She wasn’t going to get through to him. Charlie came over to sit in front of her. She buried her face in his warm fur, gently stroking him. A few minutes later she forced herself to regain control. “Charlie, I’m not giving up just yet. I’ve got until tomorrow,” she mumbled. Charlie laid a furry paw on her knee and whined.

“At least you understand,” she said. He scratched at her leg and then trotted over to the back door and scratched it, turning to look at her. “Oh, I guess that’s what you wanted,” she said with a sigh, rising and grabbing her coat

She walked into the kitchen and pulled on her boots. She went through the motions of putting on her hat and mittens, though her mind was on Jackson. It was still blizzard-like conditions and she knew how dangerous it could be in case they got too far from the house. She opened the broom closet and found a yellow toolbox. She flipped open the lid and found a rope right away in the perfectly organized box.

“Figures he’d be this neat,” she mumbled. She paused for a moment, then purposefully took a few screws and bolts out of their compartments and dropped them into other compartments. She felt a little better as she snapped the lid shut. After hooking Charlie’s leash around his collar, she swung open the door, the cold blast making them both step back a second.

“Okay, boy, make this quick,” she yelled above the wind. She squinted, trying to keep an eye on Charlie as he pulled at the leash. It was almost impossible to see even a foot in front of them. How was Jackson able to be out in this for so long? Charlie kept nudging her down the steps, refusing to do his business anywhere near the deck. “You’re as stubborn as your owner, Charlie. Hold on, I’m going to tie this rope around the banister so we don’t get lost.” Charlie waited obediently while she tied a double knot around the wooden handrail.

Hannah tried to focus on not falling in the deep snow. She lost her grip on the leash and swore under her breath while Charlie ran off, exhilarated by his freedom. Hannah yelled after him, forgoing her hold on the rope, instinctively choosing to run after the dog. A few steps out into the almost waist-high snow, the porch light was now impossible to be seen through the thick wind. She yelled Charlie’s name as loud as she could, careful to keep her bearings so she’d be able to walk back to the house. At the sound of a bark she spun around, but there was still no sign of Charlie. She ventured out a few more steps, knowing the situation was getting more and more dangerous. She didn’t have her rope to guide her back and she knew how easily a person could become disoriented and lost in a blizzard. She turned around to where she thought the deck should be and began trudging through the snow, feeling the snow seep through her clothing.

Seconds turned into minutes and Hannah tried not to panic as the only sound she could hear was that of ice pellets, and the only thing she could feel was a frigid cold seep through her. She kept calling for Charlie but couldn’t hear anything except her own voice engulfed by the wind. She trudged along, but with each step felt herself move farther and farther from any chance of finding Charlie. Or the cabin.

No one was going to find her out here. Even if Jackson looked for her, it was impossible to find a person in this. She needed to find her way back on her own. She had been in trouble before. She could do this. She could find her own way back—despite the fact that merely moving her legs through the snow was becoming more and more laborious. There was no way a blizzard was going to be her ending. Emily needed her.

Chapter Seven

Jackson piled the wood logs on the porch and stomped his feet, snow tumbling off his boots. He was used to winters like this, growing up in the North. He actually had a few fond memories of his dad, before his mother died. His father had been kind and patient. Jackson would follow him out to the barn and watch as he’d chop wood for the fire. As a kid, he didn’t quite grasp how dangerous the weather was, though his father had drilled into him how deadly it could be.

Jackson stretched his arms wide, feeling better having worked off some of his frustrated energy while getting the firewood. He hadn’t thought about anything other than Hannah and her accusations. He had never gone from desire to pure anger in a matter of minutes with anyone in his life. Hannah knew how to push all his buttons. She’d made his idea about giving his niece money sound like he was a villain. The more he thought about what she’d said the more he realized how she was right. She got to him. Everywhere.

The glow of the fireplace from the porch made him stop for a moment. For a second he could have sworn he smelled his mother’s baking. And for a moment, he didn’t know why, he let himself stay in the past. He remembered when he’d race into the house after school, his mother stopping him with a smile and shake of her hand, reminding him to take off his shoes. That feeling of love that was always there drifted through him. His little sister would worship him and tag along with him. When did it all go wrong? Why hadn’t their father been stronger for them? He could see all their faces, smiling, laughing around the dinner table.

It had been years since he’d let himself think back to those days. Jackson cursed under his breath knowing his mother would be horrified if she knew he rejected his only niece, his only family because of his anger toward his sister. He rejected her grandchild. That didn’t make him much better than his father, did it? He stamped his feet and fisted his hands so tightly they were painful. He knew what he had to do because no matter that he’d changed his name, he was still his mother’s son and she had raised him better than this.

Jackson blinked back the moisture in his eyes that he knew must be from the ferocious wind, and not some overzealous emotions. He cleared his throat and mentally braced himself for his next encounter with Hannah.

He knew something was wrong the second he walked into the eerily quiet house. He strode down the hallway to Hannah’s bedroom. His eyes narrowed in on Emily, who slept contentedly, but there was no Hannah anywhere. Then he heard the sound of paws scratching the back door and he strode across to the back room, not bothering to take off his wet boots or coat. Sure enough, Charlie was outside on the porch scratching at the door. A sick feeling gripped him as he opened the door and Charlie barked furiously at him. Charlie shook himself clear of snow and continued to bark. The porch light was on, Hannah’s coat and boots were gone, and Charlie had been outside by himself.

He cursed and whipped open the back door, making sure Charlie stayed inside. Genuine fear for Hannah propelled him to act fast as he spotted a half-tied rope on the deck banister. There were no footsteps in sight, which didn’t surprise him. Between the pace of the falling snow and the ferocity of the wind, it would be impossible to track someone in this. He secured the rope and ventured down the steps.

Jackson yelled her name over and over again, squinting against the harsh onslaught of snow. Adrenaline coursed through him as he continued to call out for her, his voice hoarse from the strength of his yell. He swung the floodlight in a circular motion, trying to catch a glimpse of motion. The yard immediately behind the house was free from trees, but he knew if she walked more than thirty feet, the forest would start and would be a deadly maze. If she went in there…he forced himself to stop thinking about how unlikely finding her would be as the minutes ticked by.

He circled the flashlight again and paused for a second, thinking he spotted a flash of color. He moved the light slowly, praying for the first time in his memory for help from above. And there it was. Red. Her pom-pom hat. He kept the light focused on the patch of red and moved as quickly as he could through the snow. He called her name over and over again and came in closer, until finally he could see her face. She screamed out his name and tried to move toward him.

It was the sweetest damn sound he ever heard.

He knew at that moment that Hannah Woods meant a hell of a lot more to him than he wanted to admit. The need to protect her overwhelmed and consumed him. He didn’t question it, he didn’t analyze the why. All he knew was that he needed her in his arms. He could tell from how slowly she moved that he’d arrived just in time. He swallowed up the remaining distance between them in a few strides. When she was right in front of him he saw how red her face was and the blue tinge to her lips.

“You okay?” He wrapped his arms around her and felt her hands clutch his coat.

She nodded against his chest, but he wasn’t convinced. “Hold on, sweetheart,” he whispered, the endearment coming naturally, though he’d never said it to anyone before. He leaned down and picked her up. Instead of protesting like he half expected, she just curled her face into his neck and wrapped her arms around him.

He let the rope guide them back to the house and prayed that she didn’t have frostbite. He gently put her down on the porch, his arms grasping hers, making sure she was steady. “Come on,” he said, opening the door and taking her hand to get into the house. He had experience with frostbite and cold weather exposure, but this was different, this was Hannah. Courageous, beautiful, smart Hannah. Standing a few inches from her in the darkened kitchen, she raised her green eyes to his and he was torn between wanting to kiss her and yell at her for taking such a crazy chance outside. But the look in her eyes took his breath away. He knew it wasn’t just him that felt this crazy connection. He knew it in the softness, the complete candor in her eyes. She wasn’t hiding from him anymore.