The Billionaire's Christmas Baby(25)

“No father,” Jackson said with a frown.

Hannah’s body tensed. These people were here for a reason and she was going to use this opportunity to her full advantage.

“I want Jackson to be her father,” Hannah said softly, though her voice sounded loud to her ears. She stared straight into Jackson’s eyes, the silent challenge not evoking a response from him at all. He didn’t look surprised by her statement, his mouth set in a grim line.

“What an honor that must be. She is a precious gift. There is nothing more special than a baby. Nothing on earth,” Mrs. Sampson said, her eyes filled with tears as she looked from Jackson to Emily. Hannah’s eyes didn’t leave his face. His jaw clenched and he gave the woman a short nod. Hannah noticed he wouldn’t look at Emily.

“Do you have children of your own?” Hannah asked, looking away from Jackson’s intense stare.

Mrs. Sampson continued to rub Emily’s back and a soft smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, the lines on her face deepening as she whispered, “We always wanted children. Always. But, well, Harry and I just weren’t blessed in that way.”

Hannah’s heart ached as Harry ambled over to his wife, his own faded blue eyes shiny. She glanced over at Jackson, whose back had been to them, his shoulders rigid. She felt her own ache. What she would have given to have parents like the Sampsons. Their love was so real, their actions so pure.

“But we were blessed to have found each other,” Mr. Sampson said brightly. His wife looked at him, nodding. She stood slowly and handed Emily over to Hannah.

“I think we’ve intruded on your time together long enough,” Mrs. Sampson said, as Harry slipped his Santa hat over his head. Hannah followed them to the door as Jackson retrieved their red coats.

“It’s been so nice to meet you,” Hannah said with a smile as she stroked the back of Emily’s head.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks for stopping by,” Jackson said gruffly, standing next to her after he’d helped Mrs. Sampson into her coat.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right getting back in this weather?” Hannah asked, as she glanced out at the blowing snow in the window. She ignored Jackson’s nudge.

“Oh we’ll be fine, I’ve been driving around in worse storms than this!” Mr. Sampson said, slapping Jackson on the shoulder. Jackson shook his hand and Hannah could have sworn she saw him smile. But when Mrs. Sampson leaned up on her tiptoes to give Jackson a kiss, his facade cracked and he gave the woman a smile that had her blushing and beaming. Moments later, as they were waving goodbye to the Sampsons, Hannah wondered if this visit had done it. Maybe it was that added piece of wisdom and insight that would compel Jackson to rise up.

“That was a fun night, don’t you think?” Hannah said brightly, walking with Emily toward the kitchen to heat up a bottle.

“I’d rather dress up as a Santa in a shopping mall and have obnoxious kids sit on my lap. Good night.”

Hannah stood in the doorway of the kitchen, baby bottle in one hand, Emily in the other, as she watched Jackson walk down the hallway. She was torn between chucking the bottle in the direction of his retreating figure and crying like a baby.



…

Jackson was done for. Seriously, cooked.

They were on day two of this horrid forced arrangement. After an evening straight from Hell thanks to the neighbors he’d managed to avoid for the last five years, he had woken up to the gorgeous sound of Hannah’s laughter, which put him in an even fouler mood.

He’d trudged over to the window only to find the snow hadn’t let up at all. It was the worst storm he’d seen in at least ten years. And for a guy that had gotten used to not feeling, he had spent the entire two days on some sort of roller-coaster ride of emotions. His biggest problem was that he began to not hate being cooped up in this cabin with Hannah and the baby. Hannah and his, er, the baby puttered around the house making all sorts of noises and happy baby-type sounds. Everywhere he looked Hannah was about. Cooking, singing to the baby, playing with the baby, changing the baby. And she was so damned loud that he’d been forced on more than a few occasions to glance over at them. When he did, he got an odd feeling in his chest when he saw that baby girl gurgling and staring at Hannah. And then he got some other, very inconvenient feelings when he looked at Hannah. Her smile, her hair, the sound of her voice—it drove him to distraction. He didn’t get a speck of work done thanks to Hannah. He ended up losing game after game of solitaire on his computer while pretending to work.

And now that the baby slept it was the two of them in the great room again. The scene was annoyingly perfect. A storm blustered away outside while they were warm and toasty in his cabin. Even the constant Christmas songs were becoming less irritating. He was with a woman he found irresistibly sexy, who was also funny as hell, and smarter than anyone he’d ever slept with or contemplated sleeping with. But he couldn’t even consider being with her because of who she was.#p#分页标题#e#