The Billionaire's Christmas Son - Leslie North Page 0,42

cheeks going a hot red. “I can’t believe you.” Her raised voice echoed off the ceiling of the lobby. “I’ve been here for hours, trying to get you to see that Rachel should be your priority and you’re dead set on avoiding it. She is the mother of your child. You are supposed to be from a good family. I’m disgusted and refuse to stay another minute,” she declared, her raised voice drawing the glances of several nearby guests. Susan threw up her hands and stalked toward the door. “Scott is your child,” she added loudly over her shoulder right before the door closed behind her.

“Yes, he is,” Jonas said, mostly to himself.

“Jonas?” His grandmother’s voice sent cold shock skimming down his spine, a sick twist to his gut.

No. Not like this. The worst possible moment. Jonas turned to face his grandmother, who stood by the Christmas tree wearing a black cardigan edged in silver. She’d wrapped it tight around her thin frame.

All the hiding—was done. There was no vestige of pretense left, not with Susan Lincoln shouting about his son for all to hear. There was a certain relief to it, and then a wave of anxiety that made his stomach clench.

“Let’s sit down,” he suggested, pointing toward the sofa.

His grandmother sank down onto it, her demeanor one of exhaustion. The glow of tree lights reflected on her face, softening her expression.

“Jonas,” she said, continuing to look at the tree, “tell me what that woman meant.”

He hadn’t rehearsed what he was going to say. It was an odd departure from his usual habits, but he hadn’t. “The photographer, Rachel—I met her before. A few years ago, here at the resort and we spent a night together.” The words stuck in his throat, but he pushed on. “She got pregnant, and Scott is our son. I didn’t know. I only found out when she came to the resort to take the photos for your Christmas gift.”

His grandmother’s hand drifted to her throat, her gaze never leaving the tree. The Christmas music cut in between them, filling the silence. Say something. Please. This was the kind of situation he’d always hoped to avoid. With her—with all his family. Being a disappointment when so much was expected of him didn’t come easy.

“You’ve known,” she began, then paused as if for strength. “You’ve known all this time?”

“Since Christmas Day. Five days to be exact. Not before then.” Heat flared on the back of his neck. Maybe he should have announced it that first day, without waiting another second. It would have been better than this.

“Oh.” The breath had gone out of her, it seemed, “Oh, Jonas. I’m so disappointed,” she said, her voice quavering. In a flash Jonas saw how frail she had become. She was still confident, but the cancer had robbed her of the gentle peace she normally exuded, and now he’d only added to her troubles. “A child out of wedlock.” She shook her head. “I didn’t ever want that from you. For any of my grandsons. I thought I raised you better than that. And to not know. How old is he?”

“Two,” Jonas managed.

“He was growing up without you. Without a father.” An excuse rose and died on his lips—she didn’t have my phone number. “And more than anything else, it breaks my heart that you felt you had to hide the truth from me.”

“I didn’t want to,” he said quickly. “Only temporarily. I knew I had to tell you. It was a matter of timing, and with the holidays and all…”

His grandmother held up a hand. “I’m not feeling well,” she said, her voice soft and even, but enough to slice through Jonas’s heart.

“Is everything all right?” Chase asked as he and Gabe approached from the other side of the tree.

Numb from guilt at hurting his grandmother, Jonas didn’t answer. Gabe leaped forward, taking control of the situation. “Let me help you up, Grandmother.”

Jonas stood, his heart heavy. “She knows.” Judging by the expressions on their faces, they knew exactly what he meant.

“I need to go back to my room,” his grandmother told Gabe, patting his arm. “Would you walk with me?”

“Of course,” his brother said, taking her by the arm and leading her away.

Jonas found himself fixated on the tree, as if its decorations could offer him some sort of advice.

“It didn’t go so well, did it?” Chase asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Grandmother looked upset and rightly so.”

“The worst part was she didn’t hear