Page 92 of Christmas with the Elkin Billionaires

Jonas sat down on a loveseat across from her. There was plenty of open carpet space, and Rachel bent to put the toy truck she’d brought with her on the floor. It would hopefully keep Scott occupied as soon as he was bored with the creases on the sofa.

“We have to make some decisions.” Jonas leaned forward, elbows balanced on his knees. “This will come as a shock to my family, and it will be best if we can contain the damage.”

Defensiveness roared to life in her. “You’re talking about my son,” she said, more sharply than she intended. “He’s not damage, whatever your relatives might think of him. And I won’t let you refer to him that way.” She should stop, but she couldn’t. “I won’t let anyone talk about him like that, especially his father.”

Jonas cleared his throat. “That’s not what I meant. I think it would be best if we made any further decisions together.”

Heat skimmed along her back, and she couldn’t tell if it was from anger or desire or both. Why did it have to feel so complicated? “Nobody makes decisions for me. If you’re worried about people finding out.”

“I’m not worried about people finding out,” he insisted, an edge in his voice. “I don’t think he’s a mistake.” Jonas’s eyes dropped to his son, who had crouched down to play with the truck on the carpet. “I feel terrible that I didn’t know.” He looked into her eyes again, and she saw confirmation of all the guilt that must be twisting him up inside.

She hadn’t known who he was, but now she wondered if she should have worked harder to find out. It was only that having Scott felt like a joyous miracle, and she hadn’t wanted to bring the real world crashing in to tarnish it. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know who you were.” Her throat went tight. “But now we do, and we can go forward from here.” She swiped at her eyes, wiping away the press of feelings in her chest. “I’m assuming your family won’t be happy?”

“It’s not that,” he said.

Scott made zooming sounds with the truck, rolling it back and forth on the rug, Jonas following the action.

“My grandmother is quite ill.” His eyes landed back on her, and Rachel saw the pain—something raw and real. “That’s why I was so insistent on getting the photos this year. She might not have another Christmas. Our grandparents raised us after our parents died and, well, to say we had a rigid upbringing is an understatement. My grandmother has high expectations for all of us and given her condition, I don’t want to upset her. Or give her reason not to trust that the lodge is in excellent hands. Responsible hands.”

“And having a child destroys that trust?”

“Because of the accident part. And the not knowing part, and for letting you struggle by yourself without any help from me. How old is he?”

“He turned two in October.” She had the urge to go and fold herself into Jonas’s lap, wanting to be held. But that was out of the question. They weren’t together. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen, yes. And he was the father of her child. But none of that changed anything. He was more off-limits now than ever before.

“I’m worried about my grandmother,” Jonas said. It was clear from his expression that he was struggling to find the way forward.

Her heart squeezed for him. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but—”

“Cancer.” The word sounded insidious, which of course it was. “Aggressive.” He rubbed both hands over his face. “I wasn’t prepared.” Rachel got the feeling he wasn’t only talking about cancer. “My only concern is that the shock would create a physical reaction for her. That is myonlyconcern,” Jonas said, a hint of authority returning to his voice. It was one of the things she’d admired about him the first time they met. “I have to protect her. But I don’t want you to go.”

“You don’t have to protect me, you know. I’ve done a surprisingly good job of that myself the past couple of years.” It wasn’t always true, but she got an A for effort.

He looked at her, gaze steady. “Don’t I?”

“No.”

Jonas nodded slowly. “I’m making a mess of this.”

“Life is a mess.” She shrugged. The defensiveness had fallen away, and now she saw Jonas exactly as he was—a man in charge of everything, who couldn’t take charge of this. Not yet. “It’s always a mess.”

“You don’t make it look that way in your photos. Always so neat and clean.” A smile flickered onto his face and disappeared.

“It’s my talent.” Rachel took a deep breath. She felt a pull toward him, the same pull as before, only this time she wanted to kiss him, not just be held. Would the same spark ignite between them as it had once before? Energy already thrummed beneath her skin, making her heart beat fast. Even looking at Jonas was an adrenaline rush. “I have a proposal.”

His eyebrows shot up, a questioning expression on his face.

“Not that kind of proposal.” She laughed, her cheeks heating. Scott stopped pushing the truck and grinned up at her, giggling too. It was infectious, irresistible, and Jonas joined in the laughter. “I’m being serious.”

Jonas put on a straight face. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Rachel wanted to tell him everything, absolutely everything that had happened over the last two years, but it was Christmas Day, and they’d lose the light soon. That wouldn’t make for the best pictures. And now she knew the stakes were high for them both.

“You can’t afford to miss any more of Christmas Day with your family,” she said briskly. “And neither can I, if you want more lifestyle shots, which you know you do. So, I’m going to get to work.”

Jonas stood, and she followed him to his feet. He was sotall,almost imposing, and Rachel was torn—she didn’t feel on guard, exactly, but not relaxed, either. It was a delicious tension. Why did shelikeit so much? “And the rest?”

“We’ll figure out what we need to do when it’s not the biggest holiday season of the year,” she told him. “There’s time.”

---