She fidgeted with her glass. He guessed she felt a little awkward about what she’d said. “So you’re waiting for some prince charming to come along and sweep you off your feet?” He winced inwardly at the callousness of his tone. It wasn’t intentional, but it irked him that she thought that this perfect guy was going to come along and make her world.
“Oh, please. I’m not naïve, Jackson. I’ve seen a lot of horrible, truly sickening things. I’m not waiting for a man to make me happy.”
“So what is it you want then? A family?”
She shook her head. “No.”
That was not the answer he expected. She didn’t want a spouse, a child?
“Why not?”
She shrugged. “I have a hard time with trust.”
“With men?”
She held his stare for another second and then gave a sharp nod, her hair falling over her right shoulder. If she had been anyone else, he would have reached out to touch it, to see if it was as soft as the skin he felt the other night beside him in bed.
“Who hurt you?”
“I thought we were supposed to be playing a game here,” she said, barely above a whisper.
“We are. And it’s my turn.”
She downed the rest of her drink, then turned to him. “No one.”
“Bull. You nearly panicked when I touched you that night.”
“I don’t like being manhandled.”
“It was more than that. You were totally freaked, like someone who’s been—”
“Refill please.”
He shook his head. “No way. I gave you a whole, long, honest answer. You’re not getting away with that.”
“Fine. I haven’t exactly had a Cleaver style upbringing either. Let’s say that I’ve had my share of run-ins with the wrong type of guy.”
He felt his heart slam into his rib cage. He watched her expression closely as she turned her head and stared into the fire. “What happened?”
“That’s two questions, Jackson.” She was so quiet he had to lean forward to hear.
The thought of Hannah being brutalized by a man hurt him. It made him angry, made his gut twist and clench, and he was vaguely aware that his emotions were much stronger than they should be for a person he barely knew.
She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and lifted eyes that were filled with secrets and pain to his. He knew what it was like to be so private, how hard it was to share that past and that hurt with someone.
She smiled, and her expression completely changed. She had a gorgeous smile, the kind that made you want to smile back at her. But there was a part of him that was disappointed, because he really did want to know about her.
“My turn!”
But instead of asking him a question she jumped up and walked over to the table. His eyes didn’t leave her as she came back with a plate of Christmas cookies she had baked earlier. He had a difficult time concentrating on what she was chattering on about while he was thinking about how nicely her jeans fit. She spun around at the exact moment his eyes had been admiring her behind. She lifted one arched brow and perched one hand on her hip. He grinned unabashedly.
“Did you hear a word of what I said?” she asked in a voice that made him think she could have been an excellent schoolteacher.
“I heard everything,” he said lying.
“Then what did I just say?” He made the mistake of glancing down at her breasts, which were straining against her shirt. He couldn’t help but think how nicely they’d fill his hands and then some…
“Jackson Pierce.” He couldn’t help it. He ducked his head and laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Hannah,” he said into her sparkling eyes, unable to stop the grin that seemed to appear on his face whenever he was around her. “I’m sorry, but you’ve got to cut me some slack. You are a beautiful woman.”
She took a step closer and poked him in the chest and he resisted the urge to laugh. Something else hit him while he stared at her fiery eyes. When he first met her there was no way she would have poked him, but she trusted him now. She acted like her true, spunky, assertive self, and that made him feel damn good.
“Please save your lines for someone who’ll actually fall for them,” she said dryly.
He nodded. “Fine. Why don’t you ask me what you’re really dying to know?”
“And what would that be?” He could tell she was curious, and he didn’t know if it was the whiskey or that his willpower had melted away after two days with this woman, but he was done denying his attraction.
“What it’s like to kiss me.”
Chapter Six
What did he just say?
She quickly averted her eyes from his sparkling brown ones. She needed to act cool and flippant. “Absolutely not at all what I was thinking.”
“But wanting?” He leaned towards her.
Her toes curled as she inhaled the smell of his aftershave. How could a man smell that good at the end of the day? “Wanting?” Jackson Pierce definitely knew how to charm a woman.
“You want me to kiss you.” He hadn’t stopped smiling and she couldn’t either.
“I think you’ve had too much to drink.” Hannah laughed.
“Hannah, two whiskeys wouldn’t even alter my blood alcohol level,” he said dryly.
She liked teasing him. It was electrifying and exciting, and it seemed so natural. If circumstances had been different and they weren’t who they were, maybe this is what they could have been like. Now that they weren’t talking about their pasts anymore she could relax. Or should have been able to if Jackson hadn’t started talking about kissing her. The thought of her lips touching Jackson’s was enough to send her running because she knew it would be sinfully good.
“Now you, on the other hand, you don’t look like you can handle much more,” he said smugly and poured himself another round. Hannah watched him swallow the liquid in one fluid motion, admiring how the muscles in his tanned neck flexed. He was too handsome for his own good. The sparkle in his eye told her that he knew she was checking him out, and liking what she saw.
She pursed her lips and used her most authoritative tone. “Actually, Jackson, I know exactly how much I can handle. I can drink four and a half shots of whiskey before I start acting like a moron. So fill’er up, buddy.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said with a laugh. “But now I want to know how you figured out that you can drink precisely that amount,” he said, handing her a refill. When their fingers met, they both lingered for a few extra moments. She hoped her old calculation was still accurate. She was surprised she actually revealed that, because of course Jackson would want to know.
“When I was in college I thought it would be a wise endeavor to drink in the privacy of my room until I got royally wasted. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about over-drinking when I went out with friends. So I finally got the amount right, and discovered that four and a half was enough without losing my head.” She tried to sound matter-of-fact, and leave out any connotation that there would ever be any other reason than that. She finished with taking a long drink of her scotch. Jackson watched her pensively.
His brow furrowed. “So, let me get this straight. You sat in your dorm room by yourself and measured what your maximum dose of alcohol would be. Don’t you think that’s a little odd?”
She shook her head. “I don’t like feeling out of control.”
“I can understand that,” he said with a nod. But she could tell that he knew there was more to the story. A part of her wanted to tell him everything. “A nineteen-year-old doesn’t do that kind of thing.”
“Well, this one did,” Hannah said and held up her glass. “Now, if you don’t mind I’ll have that next shot. And I believe we were playing a game of truth or dare.”
“You’ve been alone for a long time, haven’t you?”
Hannah swallowed hard. Why would he ask that? It was the grandma hat. The books. Her holiday bag. He was learning too much about her. It wa
s disconcerting. His feet were propped up on the ottoman in front of the sofa and he stared at the fire straight ahead, almost like he knew that if he looked at her it would be too personal. When she didn’t answer right away he turned.
Hannah made the mistake of looking at his lips. He really shouldn’t have such nice lips. They should have been thin, not sensual. He shouldn’t have sensual lips. But her feelings went beyond how he looked. She shouldn’t have enjoyed his company as much as she had today. Conversation with him was interesting and exciting. Being in such close proximity to him was unbearable because she wanted more from him, and that itself was a shocker. She had never wanted another man like him. She had never felt desire like this. The need for him to touch her, hold her, was so powerful that it made her want to ignore all the reasons she couldn’t possibly ever pursue anything with him.
His question. She nodded finally, clearing her throat and looking away from him and the feelings he conjured up. “Yes, I guess I have been alone for a long time.”
“Do you ever want to let go? Let someone take care of you?” His voice was gruff and sent shivers of pleasure throughout her body. She could hear the emotion behind his words, and the oh-so-tempting idea of letting someone take care of her, someone like him. But she knew what happened when you let your walls down and cared about people. There was always a reason someone couldn’t love her enough to let her stay. It was a hard lesson she didn’t want Emily to have to learn. Emily. She had nearly forgotten about Emily and why she was here. She hadn’t broached the subject of adoption at all today, hoping that maybe if she lay off the topic he’d bring it up. But he hadn’t. How could she be attracted to someone who refused to help his own flesh and blood? She finished her whiskey and turned to look at him. He still watched her with that I’m-going-to-kiss-you look that she had now identified. Focus, Hannah.
“What’s really holding you back from adopting your niece?” she blurted out. She held her breath, because suddenly all the air seemed to have left the room. And the man that had been staring at her like he was about to make love to her mouth now looked as though he was ready to storm out of the room.
Just when she thought he was going to tell her to go to hell, his features turned calm. Eerily calm. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” His words came out softly, but were laced with disappointment and accusation.
She felt her heart skip. “What do you mean?”
“We were having a nice time and you got scared. You brought up Louise’s daughter to turn the conversation away from you and to kill any desire between us.” She knew her face burned brightly, but she didn’t answer him. He was only partially right.
“You don’t want your niece to suffer because of Louise’s mistakes.”
“Louise knew what she was doing. I’m not going to pick up her mess anymore.”
“A baby is not a mess,” she said, her voice shaking with anger.
“Back off, Hannah,” he said, walking away from her to stand in front of the fire.
“It’s going to hurt you more in the long run, Jackson,” she said speaking to his back.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“It will eat away at you. You are not the person you pretend to be. You are warm and you know how to love. I feel it, I sense it.”
“Don’t mistake desire for a beautiful woman for warmth and love,” he snapped, turning to look at her. “Hannah, you have this naive, idealistic idea of who I am, but trust me, you’re wrong. Not everyone is capable of being perfect like you, of doing the right thing.”
She crossed her arms and looked at him accusingly. “Really? Then why didn’t you let me drive home two nights ago?”
“I wasn’t about to let a single woman drive those roads alone at night,” he said with a shrug.
She smiled. “So you have a heart.”
“Providing a stranger shelter from a storm and adopting a child are two entirely different things. Look, I even turn out the lights when an elderly couple comes looking for me. Not father material.”
“Don’t joke, and don’t let your inability to forgive your sister prevent you from doing the right thing.”
He turned his back to her again. The room was quiet, so still that it seemed surreal. The moon wasn’t visible through the snow and wind. And neither were Jackson’s thoughts.
“It looks like the storm will probably end sometime tomorrow morning,” Jackson said, hands in his pockets, staring out the window. Hannah felt her stomach flip-flop as the reality of leaving set in. Things were more complicated now than before she arrived. She still hadn’t convinced Jackson to even consider adopting Emily, and she had developed feelings for a man she should despise. Minutes passed as though Jackson had forgotten she was even in the room. Hannah toyed with the idea of having one more glass of whiskey, even though she knew that wouldn’t solve anything. What she needed was divine intervention.
“Hannah, I admire your determination and your ability to fight for what you believe in. You’re very convincing.” His expression wasn’t angry. He looked thoughtful and pensive.
Hope bloomed in Hannah’s heart. Had she actually gotten through to him? Was this the miracle she’d been waiting for? “Really?” she whispered, meeting his gaze. She felt her palms turn sweaty as she waited for him to continue.
“What if I set up a trust fund for my niece? She’ll never have to worry about expenses or anything. It’ll be more money than she’ll need to live a wonderful life. She can even come and visit on holidays.”
Hannah was unable to move for a minute. She processed what he said, wondering if there was some way she was misinterpreting. But there wasn’t. She jumped up off the couch, her body trembling, her hands fisted at her sides. “What kind of cop-out, selfish, make-yourself-feel-like-a-hero kind of plan is that?” Through her rage she saw the genuine surprise on his face. “What, so she’s going to come and see her rich uncle once a year and then go back to her foster home? Hey, you know if you register Emily as a charity, maybe you can claim all the money you give to her as a tax write-off too! I thought you were an intelligent man, but you’re a selfish, uncaring idiot!” Hannah yelled, resisting the urge to pummel his chest with her fists.
“Let’s get something straight,” he said leaning down so they were eye to eye. “I never claimed to be a saint. You came here, with your own naive expectations. What were you thinking? I’d just change my whole life for a baby I don’t know? For a sister who didn’t give a damn about her family?” He straightened up abruptly and then walked away from her, his long, angry stride taking him to the front door in an instant. She watched him shrug into his coat and didn’t want him to have the last word, because his last words weren’t good enough.
She followed him to the door. “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I thought. Because if someone came to me and said that I had a niece that desperately needed me I would drop everything. I would rearrange my entire life if I found out I had family.”
“Then you obviously don’t know a damn thing about the kind of family I had,” he said, zipping up his coat in one angry motion.
“Stop using your past as an excuse to be a jerk for the rest of your life!” She inched closer to him, not feeling the least bit intimidated as he stared down at her. “You could have your own family. You have the power to change everything, to do something really meaningful. She would be your daughter. If you had a little girl that looked up to you and thought you were the best daddy in the whole wide world, wouldn’t you do everything for her, to keep her safe?” Hannah didn’t give him a chance to answer before continuing.
“If I had a dad that came home to me every night and lifted me in his arms and kissed me, I’d know that I was loved, that I was wanted. If I was sad and thought the whole world was against me, but I had a daddy that loved me, and was there when I cried, or was there to pick me up when I fell, then I would know that everything was going to be okay. That’s what every child should have, Jackson. If this were a perfect world, then every child would h
ave enough food in their stomach, a warm bed at night, and a parent who would walk through fire to keep them safe. I don’t care how important your career is to you or how your sister screwed you over or how many times your father hurt you. You are a grown man and you have the power to change your future and that baby’s future. You’re a coward if you turn your back on her. How can you go to sleep at night, not knowing where your niece is? Not knowing if someone is hurting her? How dare you refuse her!” Hannah didn’t care that tears were streaming down her face when she finished. She didn’t care that she’d just revealed her innermost yearnings as a child, she didn’t care that she was visibly shaking.
He didn’t answer and Hannah stood there, letting him see her cry, hoping that she’d gotten through to him. He stared at her for a few seconds, his eyes glittering, his cheek flexing.
“I’m going to get firewood, I need some fresh air.” His words came out in a cold, clipped tone and he didn’t make eye contact with her. He whipped open the front door and then turned to her, pausing at the threshold. “If Charlie needs to go outside, make sure you put him on a leash and don’t go past the back deck.”
She gave him a sarcastic salute with her hand while she shook with rage. He said something under his breath and walked out.
She forced herself to take a few deep breaths and collapsed onto the sofa. She needed to regain control, she thought, trying to catch her breath. He had ignored everything. She wasn’t going to get through to him. Charlie came over to sit in front of her. She buried her face in his warm fur, gently stroking him. A few minutes later she forced herself to regain control. “Charlie, I’m not giving up just yet. I’ve got until tomorrow,” she mumbled. Charlie laid a furry paw on her knee and whined.
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