The Billionaire's Christmas Son - Leslie North Page 0,2

flash of anger. A lightning bolt of fear. Over it all, a layer of shock. He had a son, and the son was this boy, and his mother was Rachel. “What’s his name?”

“Scott,” Rachel offered. “Scott Alexander.”

There was too much to decide at that moment. He hadn’t been there to take care of his own child. Neglected his responsibility. It didn’t matter that there was no way he could have known. Jonas felt like he was falling. It was a terrifying sensation. But he wasn’t going to fire Rachel—no way.

For one thing, the photography job she was working on was his gift to his grandmother and to the rest of his family. If he sent Rachel away now, there would be no replacement photographer. And then he’d have to explain it to his grandmother, which would require a lie—something he didn’t want to do. Not while she was dealing with cancer. Not now, when they might not have much time left.

Decide.

Jonas was the one who had to make a choice. It was his job. It had been his job for years, and nothing had ever been as important as this. “Let me take you back to your suite.”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to head out?”

“I’m sure.” There. Decision made. “Let’s walk together.”

He could almost feel time ticking by. Up in his grandmother’s apartment, his family would be wondering where he’d gone. They might try to call down to the front desk to see if something happened at the resort that demanded his attention. They might try any number of things if he didn’t return to the Christmas celebration soon.

In the elevator, Rachel lifted Scott up to push the buttons, guiding his small finger with her hand. “Floor number three,” she told him.

“Tree,” Scott repeated, his son’s baby voice striking straight to Jonas’s heart.

They rode the elevator up, questions crowding Jonas’s mind. How was he going to fix this situation? Scott looked happy, oblivious to the fact that he was seeing his father for the first time. It didn’t change the problem they faced.

Rachel slipped the key card into her door, and the lock clicked, driving home the reality of the situation.

What had he been thinking? That he’d go back to her room with her and they’d hash everything out while his family waited upstairs? It would have to wait a little longer. He didn’t want his family to come looking for him. And he didn’t want his son to disappear while his back was turned.

But before they did anything, he needed to get his thoughts in order. There were so many variables in this situation. So many people to consider. So many factors. He’d always been proud of the way he could make decisions, keep things moving. Now Jonas felt like he was treading water in the middle of the ocean.

Scott toddled into the suite, and Rachel turned back. “Thank you for letting us stay.” It sounded hopeful, like a question—one last chance for him to change his mind.

“I’m glad you’re staying.” He cleared his throat. “I have to head back upstairs and visit with my family for a short while, but will you meet me in my office later to talk? It’s on the fourth floor.” She was willowy and gorgeous, and he felt a certain desperation rise in him—don’t let her get away. And a competing pull—don’t let this holiday become a disaster.

Rachel took a deep breath. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m very sure,” Jonas said. “Meet me there in an hour.”

She searched his eyes one more time, then gave a small nod. “We will.”

2

Rachel pressed her forehead to the picture window in the guest suite and tried to cool down her feverish skin. It had been an endless morning of holding it together. She had been so close to getting away, too—and then, no. The awkwardness had descended. Who knew that Jonas owned the Elk Lodge? The father of her child wasn’t just another guest—he owned the place.

A place where she could barely afford to stay.

Rachel had visited here as a child with her parents. They’d loved the resort, and so had she. There was a certain magic to it, especially around the holidays. Rachel had fallen in love with the Elk Lodge as a little girl—with the glittering snow on the hills, the hot cocoa they served to guests for free, and evergreens draped in Christmas decorations. It was breathtakingly fancy, with lovely bathrooms and lovely beds and lovely everything.

She’d stayed once as an adult, on