The Billionaire's Christmas Son - Leslie North Page 0,3
a getaway that her fiancé had planned and then bailed on, and then never again. The room rates were too high for a photographer with a business one couldn’t describe as successful by any stretch of the imagination. The opportunity to work here was like a Christmas gift for her and Scott—and a way to earn a little money. It would be a long time before that happened again.
And now there was Jonas to contend with. Rachel had never expected to come across the father of her child again, and why would she have? He could have been from anywhere. Instead, he was an hour away from the town she’d made her home and lived at the resort she’d fallen in love with as a child.
“Okay.” She straightened up and checked her watch. They were set to meet in five minutes and Rachel always left extra time. Those were the rules when you had a two-year-old. Scott was busily tugging at the blankets on the king-size bed. “Come on, buddy. Let’s ride the elevator.”
“Evator!” he squealed, rushing to the door to pull on his shoes. Rachel tucked a toy truck under her arm and helped him with his shoes, one after the other.
They headed down the hall toward the elevator. The alpine theme was understated here, with polished trim that gleamed and snow-white walls. Plush blue carpet boasted a silvery pattern that reminded her of winter, but that would look equally good in the summer.
Less than a minute later, she passed through the lobby area in search of the private elevator. Jonas had mentioned it when he hired her and it was used for access to the family suites and offices, something off-limits to guests.
Jonas insisted the photos reflect the real people. Lifestyle was the way he’d put it. Photos of how we are when we’re not with customers.
The Elk Lodge was a massive building, and it had space for two family suites—one for Elin, their grandmother, and one for visiting family when they preferred to use the penthouse rather than their own homes. Not to mention, Jonas’s offices were up here next to his grandmother’s suite.
He opened the door before she could knock, ushering them in and shutting it tightly behind them. Scott’s non-stop chatter had more than likely alerted him to their arrival.
“Hi,” Scott said, using one of the few words he’d learned early on.
“Hi, there.” Jonas’s face softened. He pushed a hand through his hair and blew out a breath, meeting Rachel’s eyes. “I was hoping we could talk about our situation.”
“Okay. Do you have a room that’s safe for Scott to play in where we can keep an eye on him?”
“The sitting room should be good. We’ll both be in there with him and I don’t think there’s anything dangerous. The fireplace has a gate on it.” Jonas led the way from the reception area to the sitting room attached to his actual office.
Rachel loved the panoramic view of the ski hills, the afternoon light golden on the snow. Her hands itched for a camera, except now wasn’t the time for photographs.
“How’s this?”
“It’s good.” She let go of Scott’s hand, and he made a beeline for a leather sofa, squeezing one of the arms to test it before crawling up to investigate.
Jonas hadn’t acted this flustered the first time she’d met him. He’d been in control in a way that soothed her. Rachel’s life had felt very out of control at the time, what with the called-off wedding. That trip to the Elk Lodge was supposed to have been so she could reconnect with her ex-fiancé. Something that hadn’t worked out as planned.
Rachel edged closer, sitting down on the sofa so she could be close to Scott. She also wanted to be close to Jonas. It was hard keeping her eyes off his tall, muscular frame, dressed impeccably in charcoal pants and a button-down with the neck open enough for her to see a hint of flesh. A shiver of desire moved down her spine, as she remembered more than the hint.
With his breathtaking blue eyes and model-handsome face, no wonder she was still attracted. No wonder she still felt like she might catch fire. Rachel hadn’t been with anyone since Jonas. Not out of a sense of obligation, but more because no one could compare to the memory of a time she considered perfection.
More deep breaths. Now wasn’t the time to develop a massive crush on the father of her child—or admit that the crush