Baby for the Billionaire - By Maxine Sullivan Page 0,86

comparison,” he explained gently. He waited for her to absorb that. Once she did, his smile turned wicked. “In my opinion, we need more practice in order to improve.”

Her eyes widened. “Improve? On that?” She lit up. “Are you serious?”

He didn’t bother to respond. There was a far more satisfying way to answer her question. He applied himself to the task with all due diligence. He was going to enjoy married life, he decided. He was going to enjoy married life a lot.

The next few weeks passed in a blissful haze, overflowing with days of constant laughter, a heartwarmingly joyous Isabella and a fat and sassy Madam. And the nights were even fuller, each moment spent in Annalise’s arms richer and more life-affirming than the one before. The changes served to solidify Jack’s certainty that he’d done the right thing, both for his niece as well as for himself. Even Mrs. Locke cooperated, delaying her final visit so that the new family had an opportunity to settle into a comfortable routine.

Though Annalise continued to fuss because her father remained out of touch and she’d been unable to tell him about their marriage, Jack’s father had given his opinion in no uncertain terms.

“Have you lost your mind?” Jonathan Mason demanded. “You married your nanny? What were you thinking?”

“Wasn’t your second wife the au pair of one of your business associates?” Jack shot back. “Or was that wife number three? To be honest, I’ve lost track.”

“I believe she was my third mistake,” his father retorted. “I paid through the nose to escape that noose. At least tell me you had that woman sign a prenuptial agreement.”

Defensiveness swept through Jack without thought or intention, an instinctive reaction to what he perceived on a gut level as an attack on one of his. His employee. His nanny. His wife. He couldn’t explain when Annalise had come to mean so much to him, or even why. It wasn’t their marriage alone, or the fact that she now shared his bed. It was more than that. Little by little she’d eased past his barriers and infiltrated every aspect of his life. Warmed it. Healed it. She wasn’t just his employee, despite what their prenup might say. She was his wife, and he would defend her against everyone and everything, including his father.

“That woman has a name. She’s Annalise Mason,” Jack replied in a hard voice. “And you will treat her with the respect my wife deserves. Are we clear?”

To his surprise, his father apologized. “Call me once the two of you are past the honeymoon period. Suze and I will have you over for dinner. And, Jack …?” He paused, his hesitation out of character for a man so decisive. “One of the few comforts I’ve had these past few months is knowing that Joanne and I were able to rebuild our relationship before she died. I made a lot of mistakes when you were young. Terrible mistakes that I’d give anything to undo. Would you be willing … Do you think we—” He broke off abruptly.

Jack forced himself to pick up the ball. “Could start over?”

There was another long pause, and then: “I know I don’t deserve it,” Jonathan said in a rough undertone. “But I want to have my son and granddaughter in my life again. Your wife, as well, if you’re willing.”

For some reason, picturing Annalise’s face stayed Jack’s cold refusal. She would want him to take the proffered olive branch, as would Joanne. If his father could humble his pride—something Jack would have once thought an impossibility—so could he. “I’d like that, Dad. We’ll call you and set a date.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Uncharacteristic emotion trembled in Jonathan’s voice. “Anytime you’re free. Anytime at all will be fine with us.”

The weeks flowed by after that, and Family Bed became a Sunday morning staple. Little by little they accumulated furnishings that would better accommodate both a five-year-old and a massive klutz of a dog. Madam, in particular, reveled in her new home, her coat gleaming with health, while the regular nutritional meals kept her nicely filled out.

Or so he thought until Isabella woke them in the early morning hours with a piercing shriek. He was out of bed a split second before Annalise and raced flat out toward his niece’s bedroom. She wasn’t there. The covers of her bed were thrown back and Isabella was nowhere to be seen. Jack’s heart began to pound in dread.

“Where is she?” Annalise said, slamming into him as she