Page 120 of Christmas with the Elkin Billionaires

“Your place or the lodge?” She hadn’t nixed the idea entirely, which was a good sign. So was the fact she still hadn’t let go of his hand.

“Which would you prefer? I can take the suite next to yours, or you can stay at my house. It’s up to you. Wherever you would feel more comfortable.” Anything she wanted was hers for the asking.

Jonas would feel more comfortable when she was sleeping safely with him nearby, even if she didn’t want to share a bed with him. All that mattered was keeping her safe.

Keeping them all safe.

Scott woke up in the crib, reaching for the side and pulling himself up, a cry on his lips. “Mama,” he said. “Mama, Mama.”

Rachel tried to sit up in the bed and failed. She grimaced, trying to put weight on her arm. “I just need a minute.”

Jonas went to the crib and picked Scott up, holding him tight. His son pressed his face against his shoulder and settled against Jonas, his face hot through the fabric of the shirt. He turned back to Rachel. “Come home with me,” he offered again, and Rachel lay back against the pillows, relief in her face.

“Okay,” she said. “I think that’s for the best.”

16

RACHEL

Rachel’s shoulder hurt worse than she’d expected it to. It was a wrenching, bruising pain, and every time she moved, she was reminded of how reckless she’d been, driving away in a snowstorm like that when it was getting dark. It didn’t matter if the accident was the other guy’s fault when he lost control of his vehicle because of the icy roads. If she’d been in the right frame of mind, she wouldn’t have been out on the roads. Period.

It felt equally reckless to stay in Jonas’s house. But the lodge suite was too close to the rest of his family, and they needed peace—all three of them.

When they got back to his place from the hospital, Scott clung to him, frantic, until Jonas finally took him upstairs to change for bed.

Rachel felt glued to the couch, her entire body made heavy by the painkillers they’d given her at the hospital. At the time, she’d thought they were too strong, but now she was glad she’d taken them. It was a deep pain that gave no quarter.

And to think she’d considered pressing on to get to Denver. In her totaled car, with an injured arm. She let her head rest on the back of the couch. It was like a miracle when Jonas had walked through the door of her hospital room.

“Hey,” Jonas said, his voice bringing her back to the present, his hand on her knee. He crouched in front of her, eyes on hers. The depth of care and concern in his gaze scared her. “You don’t need to sleep down here.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Her mouth felt slightly numb, her tongue thick. “Jonas?”

“Yeah?”

“I might need help up off the couch.” It was such a novelty, having an adult there who would put his arm around her back and lift her gently from her seat. A scary, thrilling novelty. Was this what it was like to rely on another person? Jonas guided her up the stairs, and led her to the bed, handing her one of his t-shirts before gently helping her change out of her clothes.

“It’s only my shoulder that hurts,” she protested, but she didn’t want to stop him.It felt too good.

He then helped her to the bathroom and provided her with a cup and a new toothbrush. By the time she was finished, the night had pressed heavily on her eyelids. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For taking us in.”

A stroke down the side of her face seemed to coax her to the pillow. “You’re welcome,” Jonas said. “Now go to sleep.” He kissed her forehead.

“Will you hold me?” she asked, and then the last thing she remembered was feeling the warmth of his body wrapping around her protectively before floating in comforting darkness.

* * *

Rachel tried to turn over, tensing at her shoulder’s rude reminder of last night’s accident. She scrunched her eyes shut and pulled the blanket over her head to block out the light, unwilling to face the day just yet, and sank back into sleep.

A loud pounding on the front door downstairs woke her. She shuddered away from the sound and groaned. The other side of the bed tipped down, then up—Jonas, getting out of the bed.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll get it.”

Rachel listened as his footsteps receded down the stairs, stopping at the front door.

“Where’s my daughter?” Her mother’s voice echoed through the entire house, and Rachel instinctively scrambled upright, fighting the sudden nausea and room spin. No! Her mother couldn’t be here. This was the last thing she needed.

How was she here?

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