"You gave me our marvelous son. He, and you, are the only gifts I'll ever need."
His eyes danced with pleasure. "Well, I have two more," he said, his voice gruff as he handed Ty to her. "Go to your mom for a sec, bud."
Ty bellowed his outrage, waving his hands at his dad. Ty had fallen in love with Jaeger, Piper realized. She could understand it; she was head over heels in love with him herself.
Jaeger stood up, walked to his desk and picked up some papers. He handed them to Piper. She looked at Jaeger, confused. "This looks like an agreement for you to buy my house."
"It is. I want to buy it for you. Well, for us. I'd like to put it in your name, but I was hoping you'd share it with me," Jaeger said, taking Ty back into his arms. "I want to live with you and Ty. I'll still have to travel, but instead of prolonging my trips, I'll make them as short as possible. And if I live with you, then I can look after Ty when you travel. Or we can come with you, or you and Ty can travel with me. We can work it out. We can work anything out."
"We can," Piper agreed. "Anything."
"So, are you agreeing to marry me?" Jaeger asked.
Piper laughed. "I don't recall you asking me. But when you get around to it, the answer will be yes."
Jaeger smiled, his face softer with happiness. He ducked his hand into the right pocket of his pants and pulled out a rich, sleepy blue stone. "I bought this from the collection of Kashmir Blues, and it was worth every penny Linc extorted from me. It's practically flawless, fabulously rare and infinitely precious. Just like you. Want it?"
"If it comes with a proposal, then hell yes, I want it."
Ty rested his head on his dad's shoulder, and Piper looked at her two men, pure love pumping through her veins. She lifted her lips to be kissed. "I love you, Jaeger. I have since the moment I caught you ogling my legs in Milan."
Jaeger's lips brushed hers. "Can you blame me? They are fabulous legs, sweetheart." Sadness came and went in his eyes. "I'm sorry I don't remember our first meeting. I want to, but..." He shrugged.
Piper dropped her face into his neck. "Maybe you can take me back and I'll show you what we did, where we ate, how we loved each other. We can reconstruct that time."
"I'm up for that." Jaeger kissed her forehead and looked at their son. "And maybe this time, we can try to make a pink one?"
Piper sent him a long, loving, I-can't-wait-to-get-you-naked look.
Jaeger grinned, bounced up from his seat and, still holding Ty, quickly walked over to the door. He yanked it open and yelled down the hallway. "Yo, family! Linc, Sage, Beck! I need one of you to spend some quality time with your brand-new nephew so I can kiss his mama. He's clean and happy. Any takers?"
It took ten long and very frustrating minutes to referee the argument around who got to hold the newest Ballantyne first before Piper got her hands on the newest Ballantyne's daddy.
* * * * *
Pick up these other stories of sexy heroes and the women who love them from Joss Wood!
TAKING THE BOSS TO BED
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PREGNANT BY THE MAVERICK MILLIONAIRE
MARRIED TO THE MAVERICK MILLIONAIRE
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The Magnate's Mail-Order Bride
by Joanne Rock
One
"It's no wonder her performances lack passion. Have you ever seen Sofia date anyone in all the time we've known her?"
Normally, Sofia Koslov didn't eavesdrop. Yet hearing the whispered gossip stopped her in her tracks as she headed from the Gulfstream's kitchen back to her seat for landing.
A principal dancer in the New York City Ballet, Sofia had performed a brief engagement with a small dance ensemble in Kiev last week. Her colleagues had been all too glad to join her when her wealthy father had offered his private plane for their return to the United States. But apparently the favor hadn't won her any new allies. As one of the most rapidly promoted female dancers currently in the company, Sofia's successes had ruffled feathers along the way.
She clutched her worn copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream to her chest and peered toward her father's seat at the front of the jet, grateful he was still engrossed in a business teleconference call. Vitaly Koslov had accompanied the troupe on the trip to the Ukraine, his birthplace. He'd used their rare time together as an opportunity to pressure Sofia about settling down and providing him with grandchildren who might be more interested in taking over his global empire than she'd been.
"That's not fair, Antonia," one of the other dancers in the circle of four recliners snapped, not bothering to lower her voice. "None of us has time to meet people during the season. I haven't had a lover all year. Does that make me passionless when I go on stage?"
Sofia told herself she should walk back to her seat before the pilot told them to buckle up. But her feet stayed glued to the floor. She peered down at her notes on Shakespeare's play, pretending to reread them for an upcoming role as Titania if anyone happened to notice her.
"But Sofia's been with the company since ballet school and have we ever heard her name connected romantically with anyone?" Antonia Blakely had entered ballet school at the same time as Sofia, and had advanced to each level with the company faster than her. "Actually, her dad must agree that she's turning into a dried-up old prune, because-get this." She paused theatrically, having relied on showmanship over technical skill her entire career. Now, she lowered her voice even more. "I overheard her father talking to the matchmaker he hired for her."
Sofia's stomach dropped even though the plane hadn't started its descent. She gripped the wooden door frame that separated the kitchen from the seating area. For over a year she'd resisted her father's efforts to hire a matchmaking service on her behalf. But it was true-he'd stepped up the pressure during their visit to Ukraine, insisting she think about her family and her roots.
Marriage wasn't even on her radar while her career was on the upswing. Would Dad have signed her up with his matchmaker friend without her approval? Her gaze flicked back to the proud billionaire who made a fortune by trusting his gut and never doubting himself for a second.
Of course he would proceed without her agreement. Betrayal slammed through her harder than an off-kilter landing.
"Seriously?" one of the other dancers asked. "Like a private matchmaker?"
"Of course. Rich people don't use the same dating web sites as the rest of us. They try to find their own kind." Antonia spoke with that irritating assurance shared by know-it-alls everywhere. "If Papa Koslov gets his way, there'll be a rich boy ready and waiting for his precious daughter at the airport when we land."
Sofia lifted a hand to her lips to hold back a gasp and a handful of curses. She wasn't wealthy, for one thing. Her father might be one of the richest people in the world, but that didn't mean she was, too. She had never even spent a night under his roof until after her mother's death when Sofia was just thirteen. She'd followed her mother's example in dealing with him, drawing that financial line and refusing his support a long time ago. Her father equated money with power, and she wouldn't let him dictate her life. Ballet was her defiance-her choice of art over the almighty dollar.