The Billionaire's Christmas Baby(23)

He threw back his head and laughed.

She fought the urge to smile that gripped her out of nowhere. But it was tough, because his laugh was deep and a little throaty and a whole lot sexy. It transformed him.

He stopped laughing, but his smile remained, his perfect white teeth gleaming. “Really? So you think I’m lacking in the skills necessary to attract a woman?”

She crossed her arms in front of her. “Well, you did slam a door in my face.”

He stopped smiling. “I did not slam it. I closed it.”

“Twice. You slammed it twice,” she said holding up two wiggling fingers.

He scowled at her and jammed his fists into his pockets.

“And then you yelled in my face, using your height and… er… largeness to intimidate me.”

“I was not trying to intimidate you.”

“And left me out in a blizzard.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and then looked up at the ceiling. She could swear he counted to ten silently. “I came after you.”

“And then let me fall because you had to hold the windshield scraper.”

His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched and unclenched. “I was not trying to hold the scraper, I was trying to convince you to come inside.”

“And ruined all my Christmas cookies.”

“I helped you pick them up. I had no idea there were cookies in that tin.”

“Whatever, Jackson, you definitely don’t know how to treat a lady.” She grabbed her bag and dropped the book back in. There was a power and energy that emanated from him that was impossible to ignore.

“Hannah, if you weren’t connected to my family, there would be no doubt in your mind that I know how to treat a lady.”

She knew her neck and face were red. Jackson was obviously the type of man who would have no trouble attracting women, but hearing the words come out of his mouth made it sound delicious, decadent.

“Nice line.” She kept yanking at the zipper of her bag, wishing it would close.

She ignored him and what sounded like a muffled laugh. She needed to get this visit back on track. She needed him to be with Emily, to get him to slowly melt towards his adorable niece. Somehow, in the next twenty-four hours, she needed to break down Jackson Pierce’s seemingly impenetrable walls… bells. She heard bells. Hannah looked up at Jackson who was still staring at her.

“Did you hear that?”

He shook his head. “Hear what?”

“Bells!” Hannah squealed, as they jingled again.

“Bells?”

She nodded and ran passed him to the window. Hannah inhaled sharply as a sleigh driven by two horses pulled up in front of the house. And the driver of the sleigh, well…

“Jackson?” she whispered with disbelief over her shoulder. “I think Mr. and Mrs. Claus are here.”

“You expect me to believe that Santa and his wife are trolling around my front yard?” he asked, joining her at the window.

“They aren’t trolling”

“Oh, God,” he whispered, his face going white as he stared through the glass. Finally she had gotten through to him! Hannah ran to the door, but he beat her to it and blocked it. Arms crossed and giant frown across that handsome face did nothing to sway her determination.

Hannah tapped her foot. “I’m letting them in.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” she said, trying to push him to the side. All that hard muscle didn’t budge an inch. He just let out an irritated sigh. She stepped back and glared at him. “You can’t honestly deny them entry!”

“It’s not Santa,” Jackson groaned, rubbing his temples.

“Well, who is it?”

“It’s my crazy neighbors from down the street,” he said, his voice sounding strained as the jingling grew louder.

“The house with all the decorations?” Hannah asked, thinking of the little cottage she’d driven past last night. It had been lit and decorated with such care that Hannah had slowed her car for a second to admire the lights.

Jackson nodded, his face grim. “That’s the one.”

They both jumped at the exuberant knock.

Hannah smiled up at him.

Jackson closed his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, turning around to open the door. A gust of arctic wind and a blast of boisterous bells greeted them.





Chapter Six

Hannah poured the Sampsons a second cup of coffee, listening with delight to their tale about the time they rescued a squirrel in a blizzard. Jackson was sprawled on the couch next to her, his legs crossed at the ankles, looking bored out of his mind. He caught her eye and held up a finger to his temple, pretending to pull the imaginary trigger with his thumb. Hannah frowned disapprovingly at him. How could he not like this couple?