The Billionaire's Christmas Baby(43)



“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.

“You feeling okay?”

“Hmm?” She tore her eyes away and tried to remember what they were talking about. She took off her heels, absently touching the beading on the glorious dress he picked for her. He’d told Mrs. Holbrook she was special.

“I think you were getting ready to insult me,” he said, walking over to a liquor cabinet. When he gave her that boyish grin again, the image of him as a child, helping his mother into church with Louise beside them, sprang into her mind. Hannah pictured him a few mornings ago, telling her he was going to adopt Emily. And then she thought of him today, in the chapel that he’d filled with flowers, looking more handsome than anyone she’d ever seen.

“Hannah?” He said again, his voice rough.

“I was trying to come up with something clever,” she said, tears filling her eyes as worry furrowed his brow. She took a deep breath and spoke the most truth she’d ever spoken to anyone, throwing away her fear of rejection. “Thank you for today. Thank you for this dress,” she said, trying not to be alarmed that his eyes glimmered with emotion she’d never seen before. Do it, Hannah. Say it.

Victoria James's Books