The Billionaire's Christmas Baby

“This is what Jackson picked out for this little dear,” she said, holding the dress out to Hannah.

“Jackson picked this for her?”

Mrs. Holbrook nodded. “Yes, he picked them both out. He said when he saw your dress in the window of the custom shop he knew it was you. He was a little hesitant about Emily’s dress, asking me if it was the right size.” Mrs. Holbrook was already unclasping Emily’s seatbelt in the car seat, as if she knew Hannah was incapable of moving.

“I don’t know what he’s doing,” Hannah whispered, not really to anyone.

“Jackson knows exactly what he’s doing, Hannah. You are what he needs, my dear,” the woman said with a reassuring smile, standing and holding Emily in her arms. “And soon you’ll realize that Jackson is exactly what you need.”

…

Jackson felt nerves…no, fear, for the first time in a long, long time as he stood at the altar. Would Hannah tell him to go to hell? Did she walk out of here as soon as she realized he’d changed plans on her? Would she like the dress?

That day after he dropped Hannah off at home, as he drove back into the city, he couldn’t shake the feeling that getting married at City Hall was wrong. For Hannah it was wrong. He wanted her to have everything, the best of everything. After what she’d told him at her house, about her past, he wanted her to feel special. He tried hard to tell himself that it was merely attraction to a beautiful woman, but he knew it was a lie. If that were true he wouldn’t have contacted the Holbrooks. He wouldn’t have bought the dress that he knew would fit Hannah like a glove, because he’d memorized every single inch, every luscious curve of her body. He wouldn’t have picked the only chapel that held such significance to him. He never would have let her into this part of his past.

“Jackson, man, you look like you’re about to hurl.” Ethan laughed, slapping him on the back. Jackson bit back a curse as he glared at the man he considered his best friend. Ethan, it seemed, had gotten over his shock since yesterday. Today he was just overly irritating, asking him questions involving feelings. He wasn’t about to enter into that discussion with a guy who had an even worse record with women than he did.

“I’m not going to hurl, you idiot,” he said, straightening his tie, wondering if that was what the unsettled feeling in his stomach meant.

His friend rolled back and forth on his heels, way too happily. “Have you been drinking?”

Ethan scowled at him. “No. But who are those people that keep waving at you?” Ethan whispered under his breath.

Jackson forced a smile and waved at Mr. And Mrs. Sampson. “Friends of the bride.”

“Who’s that?” Ethan said as a pretty, slender brunette stood at the top of the aisle, then began walking toward them.

“Hannah’s best friend, Allison. They work together. And hands off. She’s not your type.” Jackson said out of the corner of his mouth as Allison approached them.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s nice,” Jackson said in a low voice.

“Hannah will be out in a minute,” Allison said with a big smile. Jackson tried not to let his relief show.

“Thanks,” he said, his eyes shifting from hers to the back of the chapel. Allison gave him a small wink and then walked away.

Hannah was at the top of the aisle and was more beautiful than he imagined, a cross between an angel and a goddess. He couldn’t read the expression in her eyes, but he bet she was torn between fury and confusion. His heart tightened as Allison and Emily made their way down the aisle. Little Emily evoked such an overwhelming feeling of love in him that he was taken aback.

Jackson heard the elderly minister of his youth shuffle across the altar to join him. He gave Jackson a reassuring nod, so similar to the one he gave when Jackson was a boy, coming to church with his mother and sister. He’d turned his back on his faith for so many years. But yesterday on that drive, after being with Hannah and his niece, he’d felt an inexplicable pull here, as though this place could bring him back to a time of peace and serenity. Everything around him faded as Hannah walked down the aisle, a simple bouquet of ivory roses in her hand.

…

Hannah was barely aware of anything other than Jackson. And boy, was the man a sight to behold. Tall and lean, wide shoulders and proud stance, he was a man who could stop traffic. He stood in a dark grey suit waiting for her, watching her with eyes that glittered with emotion. She saw a hint of that vulnerability as the corner of his mouth turned up. As soon as she stood beside him he took her hand in his.

“This isn’t city hall, Jackson.”

He chuckled softly, making her forget all the reasons this was insane. “City hall is too ordinary for you, Hannah,” he whispered gruffly, giving her hand a squeeze. “You look beautiful.”

“The Sampsons are here,” she said, squeezing his hand.

The smile he gave her was one she wouldn’t forget. “I know how fond you are of them. The only problem is that they think I’m deaf, so they’ve been yelling from the aisle.” Hannah swallowed her nervous laugh and stared at him for a moment longer, not believing that this was the same man as a week ago.

This was a real wedding, she thought, as the minister began to speak. Words floated through the air, and Hannah heard herself make promises to a man whose gaze told her that he took this very seriously. When he spoke his vows, in that deep, self-assured voice, every ounce of insecurity dripped away. And when it was time to exchange rings, Jackson retrieved two rings out of his pocket before she even had a moment to panic. He had a slight smile as he smoothly slipped her ring on her finger. She looked down at the band, marveling at the beauty of the graceful filigree and shimmering diamonds. Then he handed her his wide, simple white gold band. Her hands trembled as she slid it onto his finger, their symbol of unity.

Finally, Jackson leaned down and gave her the sweetest, gentlest kiss that brought tears to her eyes and made her clutch his arms.

“Hello, Mrs. Pierce,” Jackson whispered against her lips.

She squeezed his arms, feeling the dense muscles under her fingertips. “I never said I was changing my last name.”

Jackson laughed and kissed her again.

The Sampsons, Ethan, and Allison were clapping. Hannah even thought she heard jingling bells. Emily picked that moment to thrill them with her own squeal of delight. This was the closest she had ever felt to having a family, Hannah thought, as the three of them stood together.

And if this were as close as she got, she’d die a happy woman.

Chapter Eleven

Jackson held the door for her with one hand, and carried her luggage with the other. Hannah gave him a small smile before walking by him and into his penthouse. He placed her bag on the ground and flicked on a table lamp in the foyer. Hannah ignored the jittery feeling in her stomach that had accompanied her from the church to the city. They had dropped Emily off at Mrs. Ford’s house knowing that next week they’d be able to bring her home with them. The drive had been quiet, most of the joy of the wedding slowly replaced by nerves as the reality that she was about to move in with Jackson set in.

“Come on, I’ll show you around,” Jackson said, his deep voice sounding loud in the silent penthouse. He took her hand, leading her inside. She was curious to see his home, nervous to be here with him like this. The main lights were still off, the room illuminated by a breathtaking view of the Toronto skyline that twinkled through the gleaming ten foot windows. It was an impressive room, filled with leather, glass, and dark woods. Stunning, but impersonal, cold, and nothing like the man she was coming to know.

“What do you think?” He loosened his tie as he stood in the center of the room.

Hannah was having a hard time coming up with a smart answer, distracted by the way he looked. The image of his body intertwined with hers at the cabin gripped her. She remembered the exact shade of his skin, his masculine scent, each clearly defined muscle, and how glorious he’d felt against her naked body.

“Hannah?”

She attempted a casual smile and forced her eyes away from his before she turned red. “It’s what I imagined it would be.”

“Why doesn’t that sound like a compliment?”

“It’s, um…” She bit on her lip. “How do I put this? It’s a very nice place for someone like you.” There.

His smiled deepened and she resisted the urge to curl her toes. His smile should come with a warning attached. Allison’s words about his looks popped into her mind and she quickly darted her eyes away from his. This evening was going to be more awkward than she’d originally thought, and they hadn’t even had a tour of the bedrooms yet.

“Someone like me?”

“Well, no that’s wrong, actually,” she said, frowning as he removed his jacket. The long, lean lines of his body were perfectly outlined in the tailored suit. He was a beautiful man. She’d known that at the cabin. But seeing him dressed like this reminded her of the other side of him—the successful, powerful millionaire.