The Billionaire's Christmas Son - Leslie North Page 0,39

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 Jonas’s house 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 couldn’t really stop him. Not that she wanted to.

After handing her a cup and a toothbrush, he helped her to the bathroom. 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. “It’s my honor. Now go to sleep.” He kissed her forehead.

“I’m not tired,” she said, and then she was out, floating in comforting darkness.

Rachel tried to turn over, her shoulder a 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, sinking 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. No—her mother couldn’t be here. This was the last thing she needed.

Rachel’s shoulder disagreed with the new plan as she awkwardly pulled a sweatshirt over her head and a pair of Jonas’s sweatpants on. Her hands fumbled on the drawstring. In the end, she abandoned the effort, going down the stairs as quickly as she could, the raised voices unsettling.

Jonas faced off with her mother in the foyer, the door shut behind them.

“Mom,” Rachel said, feeling like a teenager who’d been caught after curfew. “What are you doing here?”

“I took a chopper to the resort as soon as I figured out where you disappeared to. You were on the news, Rachel. A car accident? Did you even think of your son?”

“My son? You can’t possibly—”

“Who would drive at such a dangerous time with Scott in the car?” Her mom’s face had gone pale, with high pink spots on her cheeks, and her blue eyes—exactly like Rachel’s—had narrowed, piercing her with a combination of anger and disappointment. “I had to use my connections to find out where you went after you were released since you didn’t think to let me in on things.”

A thousand arguments sprang to mind, all of them scrambled by the closeness of the foyer and the outsized presence of her mother. How did she always manage to take up so much space?

“Mrs. Alexander—” Jonas interjected on her behalf, trying to take control.

“Lincoln, as in remarried,” her mother snapped, not even bothering to look in Jonas’s direction.

“Mrs. Lincoln, my name is Jonas Elkin. Your daughter has been safe with me since Christmas.” Jonas angled his body between the two women and stuck out his hand.

Angry as she was, self-righteous as she was, Susan