His Ex's Well-Kept Secret Page 2

  Jaeger didn’t know he was going to speak the words until they flew out of his mouth. “What if I wanted to? See you naked again, that is,” he clarified.

  Surprise flashed across Piper’s face, but it was quickly followed by a healthy dose of doubt.

  “I’d probably ask you not to.”

  Okay. So not what he’d expected to hear.

  Piper tipped her head to the side, her expression thoughtful. “Jaeger, I’m a normal woman who has her feet firmly on the ground. I enjoy my job as an art appraiser. I date. I have a full life. I don’t need you to sweep me away and into your world. I don’t like your world.”

  “My world?”

  “Big money, Manhattan, socialite city. It’s not me. It’ll never be me,” Piper said, her tone and expression earnest.

  “I’m not asking you to marry me, Piper, or even date me,” Jaeger replied, feeling irritated. This wasn’t how the conversation normally went. Usually he fielded the demands about when he’d be calling, when their next date would be. He didn’t particularly like that the shoe was very firmly, and uncomfortably, on the other foot. “I was just wondering if you’d like to—”

  “—hook up again sometime?” Piper cocked her head, the corners of her mouth lifting. When she exposed her neck, he wanted to nibble on her collar bone, kiss that spot under her jaw. “Thanks, but no. Hooking up is not something I make a habit of. This interlude will be a lovely memory, but recreating this back home won’t work for me.”

  Piper tucked a long curl behind her ear. “There’s something about Italy that’s sexy and seductive. It’s a place that subliminally encourages you to seize the day and act out of character, and this—” Piper waved her hand at his bare chest “—is very out of character for me. In the real world, I sleep with guys only if I think we are going somewhere, if the man has the potential to become important to me. Thanks to the tabloids, we all know you don’t do commitment, so that rules you out.”

  Okay, sure, that was true but... But? There was no but. She had him pegged!

  Piper stood up and pulled the knot on her robe, allowing the sides to fall open. The fabric framed her pretty breasts, and the moisture in his mouth evaporated. With a small shrug the robe slid down her arms and then to the floor, and she stood in front of him gloriously naked. She straddled his thighs and gently touched his mouth with hers. “If this is all the time we have, then we’re wasting it, Ballantyne.”

  Jaeger gripped her butt in his hands and stood up, holding her. Her legs locked around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom.

  She was the perfect one-night stand; she’d let him off the hook with no drama and little fanfare, and he should feel grateful, he thought, lowering her to the bed.

  So, then, why didn’t he?

  One

  Eighteen months later

  Piper Mills pulled her reading glasses from her face and tossed them onto her desk. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she pushed her chair back from her Georgian mahogany writing desk and scowled at her laptop screen, where the offer of an exciting consultation sat in her inbox, waiting for her response.

  Of course she would like to appraise a recently discovered Daniel Glutz. She’d written her master’s thesis on the German painter. But it was impossible. The painting was in Berlin, and since Ty’s birth nine months ago, she was restricted to appraising art on the East Coast, to trips she could undertake in a day or less. Although she loved and trusted her nanny, Ceri, and Ceri’s twin brother, Rainn, who was also good with Ty, she still didn’t feel comfortable leaving her precious child for extended periods. She couldn’t leave Ty overnight. Not yet.

  Maybe when he was in college.

  Piper stood up and went to the curved bow window of her three-story redbrick Victorian. She folded her arms across her chest and looked down onto the street below. Fall was nearly over, winter was rushing in and the seasons seemed to be flying past. She’d conceived Ty in spring, lost Mick in late summer, given birth to Ty in midwinter. This summer, unlike the previous one, passed by uneventfully.

  Mick’s death last year was a smack rather than a blow, but one she was still wrapping her head around. Even though she and her father rarely spoke, she liked knowing there was somebody she was connected to, some family she could call her own—even if it was only in the quiet depths of her soul, since Mick never publicly acknowledged her as his daughter.

  Or acknowledged her at all.

  Growing up, she’d never thought she’d be glad he publicly ignored her and her mother, his longtime mistress. But when the most flamboyant and driven personality on the New York social scene, one of the most respected stockbrokers and investment advisors in the world, was arrested for fraud, Piper was very glad not to be linked to him.

  Over decades, Mick convinced thousands of people to invest in funds he recommended, promising solid returns. He then used money from new investors to pay off existing investors, all while living the high life. It was no surprise he’d demanded she hand over her sapphires in the months leading up to, and after, his arrest. He’d needed to raise some money to buy a shovel so he could dig himself out of a very big hole.

  The press attention over his arrest was intense, and Mick’s ex-wife was constantly harassed by reporters. Mick’s child bride/trophy wife conveniently left the States for Colombia two days before his arrest, never to return, not even to attend Mick’s funeral.

  Ah, such a demonstration of true love.

  Since neither of Mick’s wives knew of Piper’s existence, she’d just stayed in Park Slope, Brooklyn, living in the house Mick bought for her mother, watching the Mick-induced craziness from a distance. She was grateful her mother never witnessed the man she loved fall from the very high and gilded pedestal she’d placed him on. His death, from a heart attack two-and-a-half months after first being arrested, would’ve killed her if cancer had not.

  Piper heard a snuffle from the baby monitor on her desk and smiled. Her boy was awake and would be wanting some lunch. Piper walked out of her study and ran up the stairs to the third floor of her building, which served as the second floor of her home. The first floor was an apartment she rented to Ceri and Rainn. She padded into the smaller of two bedrooms and across to the wooden crib she’d slept in as a child. Ty turned to look at her, and love flooded her system.

  He was all Jaeger, she thought, picking him up and cuddling him to her chest. He had Jaeger’s light blue eyes, his facial structure and his dark sable hair. Ty would also, she was sure, have Jaeger’s height and naturally muscular build.

  Ty was a Ballantyne, she thought, in everything but name.

  “There’s my big boy,” she crooned, rubbing her chin across the top of his head. Piper carried Ty to his changing mat and deftly undressed him, taking a moment, as she always did, to kiss his foot, to nibble his heel. The actions caused Ty to release a belly laugh which, in turn, made her laugh. God, she’d never thought she could love someone this much...

  Piper whipped a disposable diaper from the box on the chest of drawers and slid it under Ty’s clean bottom. Under the pile of diapers was the black velvet roll of fabric, and inside the roll were the ten sapphires she’d discussed with Jaeger.

  In Milan, he’d promised he’d call her so he could examine the sapphires, but he never did. When six weeks passed without hearing from him, and she’d realized condoms weren’t a hundred percent foolproof, she’d tried to contact him. Every call she made to his cell phone went directly to voice mail.

  He couldn’t be hard to reach, she’d thought, so she’d tried to contact him through Ballantyne and Company. Ha! That was like trying to speak directly with one of the Windsor boys. She’d left countless messages, sent a dozen emails to the group secretary, but nothing. When she’d visited the flagship store, asking to see Jaeger, her requests to speak to someone higher up the food chain were dismissed. When she refus
ed to leave until either Jaeger or one of his three siblings spoke with her, security escorted her off the premises.

  She’d been on the internet a few days later and found an in-depth article on him in which he was quoted saying that he had no intention of ever marrying, that he did not want children. The world needed innovators and adventurers and discoverers, not more mouths to feed.

  Besides, kids would seriously cramp his style...

  By midnight of that awful day, she’d finally received the message that Jaeger wasn’t interested in her or her sapphires or hearing she was pregnant.

  Ty, she decided, was hers; she wasn’t obliged to share his existence with a man who would not be excited or interested in her child. Mick had ignored her, and she’d always wondered why he didn’t love her. There was no way she would burden her son with an uninterested, unenthusiastic father.

  Piper desperately wished she could forget about Jaeger, but that was impossible when she lived with a miniature version of the man. In Ty she saw Jaeger’s gorgeous, fallen-angel face—light eyes a perfect foil for his olive skin and dark, wavy hair—and then she remembered the scrape of his two-day-old beard against her skin, the breadth of his shoulders, the ridges of his corrugated stomach, the peace she felt in his clever assured touch.

  Some nights she woke up from a deep sleep, her heart pounding, an orgasm hovering, her thoughts full of him. On occasion she rolled over looking for him, wanting him to take her to that place where only he could—a dizzying, sparkling place where time stood still and magic lived. When reality crashed down—she was a single mother and he wasn’t interested in her or her son—the following hours were dark and dismal, long on tears and short on sleep.

  Ty gurgled and Piper dropped her head to nuzzle his tummy, feeling his tiny hands in her curls. When she’d first found out she was pregnant with Manhattan’s Main Man’s baby, she’d cursed God and Fate and wept and wailed. Now she couldn’t imagine her life without her little man; he was the beginning and the end of her universe.

  “What about some lunch and then a walk in the park? It’s cold but sunny.” Piper put Ty on her hip and walked downstairs, ignoring her study to head for the kitchen. “You up for that, Ty?”

  Ty shoved his fist in his mouth, and Piper took that to be a yes. Handing Ty a sippy cup filled with water, she pulled out a jar of organic baby food and heard her doorbell buzz. Frowning, she looked at the small screen in her kitchen and saw a man in a suit standing by the front door to her building. He looked very...lawyerly, Piper decided.

  Piper lifted the receiver to her intercom, and when she heard he represented the law firm in charge of administering her father’s estate, she buzzed her visitor into the building.

  Five minutes later, Mr. Simms sat at her kitchen table as she fed Ty his lunch.

  “I understand that you’re a fine arts appraiser, you work from home and you have a steady clientele of both art gallery owners and private collectors.”

  Accurate enough. Piper nodded as she spooned sweet potato and carrots into Ty’s welcoming mouth. Wanting to get outside and into the fresh air, she lifted her eyebrows. “All true. But I doubt you came here to talk about my business, so what can I do for you?”

  “I also understand you are Michael Shuttle’s daughter?”

  There was no point denying it. “I am. My mother and Mick were together for over thirty years. My relationship to Mick is not public knowledge, and I’d prefer it stayed private.”

  Piper wiped Ty’s face and hands and handed him oversize plastic house keys to play with. They immediately went to his mouth. “Why are you here?”

  Simms nodded. “Unlike his business, your father’s personal assets were very well-documented. On his list were numerous pieces of furniture, with annotations that they are in this house. There is a Georgian desk, a painting by Zabinski, a sculpture by Barry Jackson. A Frida Kahlo painting.”

  “He gave those to my mother. They were gifts.”

  “The spreadsheet states the items were on loan to Gail Mills.” Mr. Simms looked sympathetic.

  From the kitchen she could see into the living room, where the bronze sculpture of a ballet dancer sat on the credenza. “Are you telling me they have to be sold?”

  Simms nodded. “Yes. They are part of his estate.”

  Piper bit her bottom lip to keep her curses from escaping. “On loan, my ass! They were gifts. I was there when he gave them to her.” Feeling sad and a little sick, Piper stood up to release Ty from his high chair.

  Simms made a note in a small black notepad and looked at her as she swayed side to side, Ty on her hip. “I’ll send a crew to collect the table, the art and the bronze. They’ll go up for auction and you can buy them back.”

  Yeah, right, that wasn’t going to happen. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” Piper looked at the door, hinting that she’d like him gone.

  “There’s just one more thing, Miss Mills.”

  Oh, God, judging by his serious face, whatever he was about to say would be a kick to the gut. She tightened her grip on Ty and waited for the hammer to fall.

  “This property is owned by one of your father’s companies and will definitely have to be sold to repay some of his creditors.”

  Piper felt her knees buckle, and she dropped to a chair, Ty landing on her lap. “What? But he left this house to my mom, who left it to me. I’ve requested a copy of the deed but I’ve received nothing.”

  “That’s because he left the right for your mom to live in it. He didn’t leave the asset. It’s definitely not yours to live in. It will be sold. That is indisputable.”

  Indisputable? That sounded pretty damn final. Piper pushed past the panic and forced herself to think. “Would I be able to buy it?” she asked, her voice breaking.

  “Do you have around three million dollars?” Simms asked. “Or a way to raise three million dollars?”

  No, but she had some stones that might be worth that much, if they were real. This was her home, Ty’s home! She’d lost her mother; she couldn’t lose her house, too. If she could raise money from the sapphires, she might be able to get a mortgage for the rest...

  “I can try to find the money. How much time do I have?”

  Mr. Simms’s face softened. “Your father left a hell of a mess, and you’re being punished for it. That’s not right. I’ll push the sale of the property down my list of priorities and hope like hell I don’t get caught. What about three months?”

  Piper nodded, tears in her eyes. “Three months to raise three million. Holy crack-a-doodle.”

  Simms cocked his head at her. “If anyone can do it, Michael Shuttle’s daughter can.”

  Piper didn’t bother explaining that, while she carried Mick’s DNA, she’d been anything but his daughter.

  But she was Gail’s daughter and Ty’s mom, and she had a life she loved, a life now under threat. Piper looked around her colorful, cozy home, and her stomach twisted into a sailor’s knot. This was her nest, the center of her life. It was her refuge, her cave, her son’s playpen. It was where she felt safe.

  Leaving her house and her life wasn’t an option, so she had to fight for it, and that meant... God. Piper pushed her hand against her flat stomach, ordering her lungs to work.

  Fighting for her life and her home meant selling her stones. And selling her stones meant going back to see Jaeger, the only man who’d ever tempted her to walk on the wild side. It didn’t matter that she was still furious that he’d refused to see her, still hurt that she was so easily forgotten. She needed him.

  Dammit. She needed Jaeger.

  Only, she quickly qualified, to buy her sapphires so she could save her and Ty’s home. She didn’t need Jaeger to be her lover or Ty’s dad or even to rehash the past and explain his actions.

  It was a simple transaction: she’d give him ten sapphires and he�
��d give her a considerable amount of money.

  It would be swift and simple.

  With her rising stress levels, she didn’t think she could cope with anything but swift and simple.

  * * *

  Sitting in the reception area, three floors up from the magnificent flagship jewelry store on Fifth Avenue, Piper took in the details of the Ballantyne and Company headquarters.

  Unlike the restrained elegance of the jewelry store below, where the furnishings were top quality but designed to play second fiddle to the magnificent jewels, the corporate offices were modern, light and airy. Orange backless couches sat on polished cement floors, and wide windows allowed visitors to watch the Manhattan traffic below. Modern artwork—Piper instantly recognized the massive monochromatic Pinz—dominated the wall above a light wood credenza holding a coffee machine.

  The knowledge that she was in danger of losing her house had galvanized her, and she’d swung into action. She had no choice; she had to establish whether the stones were valuable or not.

  Piper hadn’t wasted her energy trying to get an appointment with Jaeger directly, choosing instead to use her contacts in the art world. Art collectors had deep pockets, and many of them, including her old client Mr. Hendricks, purchased jewelry as well. She’d once saved him from purchasing a fraudulent Dali, and he’d quickly agreed to facilitate a meeting between her and Jaeger.

  She would’ve saved herself a lot of heartache if she’d had this brainwave last year. Baby brain, she decided. Those pregnancy hormones had a lot to answer for!

  Despite Jaeger acting like a toad after Milan, she trusted him professionally to tell her the truth about the stones. His reputation as an honest dealer was vitally important to him. Ballantyne and Company was also reputed to pay the highest prices for quality gems. Three very good, very business-y reasons for her to be here. Piper felt a drop of perspiration run down her spine. Her heart was bouncing off her rib cage and the air seemed thin.