text: With the ivory cane that had belonged to her grandfather supporting him, Jack stood waiting for her in front of the same airport coffee shop he had a few months ago. Blaine had never seen a more beautiful or perfect man. Her gaze slid to the thick platinum band on his ring finger. Possessiveness flared within her. Their simple wedding at the embassy office was nothing to write home about. She didn't care. This man was hers. She was his. And next fall, their babies would be in their wedding photos with the backdrop of Sander's Lake in its full autumn glory.
  
  Life was good.
  
  Blaine smiled and made her way to the man who'd hold a spot in her future no matter where life took them or what it threw at them. "Have I ever mentioned how hot you are, Jack Sander?"
  
  "That's Jack Zima-Sander to you." Jack wagged a finger in her face. "And no, I believe you once said I have a nice ass. You never mentioned anything about me being hot."
  
  She laughed and rested her cheek against his chest just as she'd done all those months ago. He drew her closer with his free arm but they didn't quite fit together the way they had then. Her ever-expanding belly prevented them from getting too close. "You only have to be a hyphenator in Russia, Jack. I plan on taking your name here in America."
  
  "Don't let my brother's teasing bother you. That's just what we do. We pick at each other, exploiting any little thing we can."
  
  "You do?"
  
  He shrugged. "It's a brother thing. Levi and I just take it to new levels when we can."
  
  She didn't get it, but according to Iona, picking at each other was what the Sander brothers did. "I'm glad it doesn't bother you, but I'm serious. You don't have to hyphenate your name in America. I'm happy to be Blaine Sander."
  
  "You're right. I don't, but I will." Jack glanced into her face. "Your dad wanted the Zima name to be associated with you and your violin, not mine. I've chosen to respect his wishes. Figured it's only fair."
  
  "Really? Why is that?"
  
  "He's the one who taught you how to play the violin, and you playing it for me is what made me realize I couldn't let you walk out of my life." Jack focused on her. The seriousness in his expression stole her breath "That moment out on the deck was life-altering for me."
  
  "It was for me too. I'd forgotten how much I loved playing the violin. There's something freeing about it. I close my eyes, and I'm lost to the song. I can see it, Jack. The notes, the passion, all of it."
  
  Jack glanced at the two carry-on bags on the ground next to him. Her violin case sat on top of them. "Play it for me. All of it this time."
  
  Her fingertips tingled with the need to touch the Zima violin. "When we get home."
  
  "What's wrong with now? Levi won't be here to pick us up for another twenty or thirty minutes."
  
  "Now?" Brows raised, she stared at her husband. "You can't be serious."
  
  "I'm very serious."
  
  "We're in the middle of an airport."
  
  "And?" Jack opened the violin case but didn't pick up the bow or the violin. He left them both lying there in the velvet padding, taunting her. "Pretend like you're back in Russia and standing in front of a crowd of screaming fans."
  
  She laughed. "My fans would never scream for me to play the violin."
  
  "Then you need new ones." Jack shifted the cane in front of him and rested both hands on the carved lion's head. "I'll be your first one."
  
  She opened her mouth but closed it before she told him he was biased. The look on his face the last time she'd played for him was too genuine to dismiss as politeness. She slid her gaze across the travelers moving through the airport. She didn't know any of these people. She'd never see them again. If she messed up a note or looked ridiculous swaying to the music when she was now entering the waddling stage of her pregnancy, who'd care? They could have something to laugh about as they went about their day.
  
  Besides, the music was calling to her.
  
  Blaine stretched her fingers, then rolled her shoulders. "If somebody calls the police on me, I'm blaming you."
  
  "Seems fair."
  
  Jack handed her the bow and the rosin block. He knew her routine even if she hadn't played for him since that night in the cabin. She'd needed solitude and time to refine her symphony. He'd given her both. She knew he listened to her, though. Every time she stepped out of her music room in her town house, he'd been there. There'd always been a small, satisfied smile on his face too.
  
  With quick, steady strokes, she prepped her bow, then checked the tightness. The moment she set the block back into the case, Jack passed over the violin. Blaine caressed the lion's head, then the chin rest before closing her eyes and allowing the music to dance across her mind.
  
  Then she played.
  
  Blaine let the music guide her, swaying and gliding across the floor while the bow and her fingers skipped over the strings, urging the notes out until the brutal, soul-wrenching moment she'd ended her half-finished symphony all those months ago. She hung her head as the rest of the instruments in her musical story spoke the words only she heard. Maybe someday, Jack would hear them too, if her symphony was ever played by a full orchestra. Now, though, it was hers. So was the ending.
  
  She dragged the bow over the strings, drawing out a heartbreaking sound, like a cry of despair. Then the chords that stitched the utter desolation to the hope and then the racing fear of losing everything again. Sweat beaded on her brow as she brought the song—her love story—to life.
  
  All the fear she'd felt when Jack fell, when she'd watched blood soak his clothes, when she'd heard the gunshots but could no longer see him, bled into her music. She channeled it the only way she could, then paused with the bow a hairsbreadth from the strings and met Jack's eyes. Everything she needed to see in this moment shone in them. The passion, the love, the devotion, the trust—it was all there. She gave everything back to him, using her music to express herself.
  
  When the final note played, Jack was there, pulling her into his arms. "My angel."
  
  "My heaven." Blaine whispered the words into his ear.
  
  "That was phenomenal."
  
  The lazy Southern drawl drew Blaine's gaze to the man who'd spoken. Five bodyguards in matching suits stood around a man wearing jeans and a T-shirt, forming a necessary wall to keep back the crowd that'd gathered.
  
  "Well, damn." The shock in Jack's voice meant he knew who'd stopped to listen.
  
  Too bad she didn't. Blaine shook off the awkward feeling. She knew how to act around strangers. She'd perfected small-talk even if she hated it most of the time.
  
  She flashed a bright, lopsided smile. "Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it."
  
  "I did."
  
  His gaze slid to the scar on her cheek, and she fought to keep her smile as bright as it had been. With Jack, she didn't even think about her scar. Other people? She was still working on it. Jack was helping her.
  
  The stranger stepped forward, his circle of bodyguards moving with him. "Like I said. You are phenomenal. I've never seen anyone play a violin like you just did."
  
  Jack caught her gaze. The "I told you so" look on his face made her laugh.
  
  "I'm serious." The man stepped forward and held out his hand. "I'm Owen Douglas. You are?"
  
  "Blaine Zima." She shook his hand.
  
  "You know, your name sounds familiar."
  
  "Does it?" She turned and handed Jack the bow and violin, giving herself a moment to get herself together. Besides the arranged interview where she'd officially announced that she was separating with her band and canceling all her upcoming appearances, she'd managed to avoid the media. She wanted it to stay that way.
  
  "Yeah." One of Owen's bodyguards leaned close and whispered something to him. Owen zeroed in on the scar on her face, scrutinizing it more than he had moments ago. "Shit. Aren't you that Russian singer who got attacked on stage a few months back?"
  
  "Yes. That's me." Blaine managed to get the words out without sighing. If her publicist had still worked for her, she would've been proud.
  
  Owen ripped out a section of a magazine page, scribbled a number on it, and handed it to her. "I'm late for a flight, and this isn't exactly the place to discuss business, but give me a call late next week. I think I know someone who'd be very interested in talking to you."
  
  Blaine took the jagged paper and watched as Owen's bodyguards cleared a path through the crowd for him. The moment they were gone, she looked at Jack. "Who was that?"
  
  "A famous American singer." Jack took the paper from her and slipped it into his pocket, then closed the violin case.
  
  "I've never heard of him." Blaine grabbed the handle of her carry-on as she caught a glimpse of Levi making his way toward them. "What do you think he wants to talk about?"
  
  "How amazing you are with the violin. Maybe he'll hook you up with a record deal."
  
  She shook her head. "Well, we just agreed to five shows in Eliot's tour after the babies are born. That's going to take up a chunk of our time."
  
  "We have a lifetime ahead of us, Mrs. Zima-Sander. We'll meet each day's opportunities as they come."
  
  "Opportunities? Not challenges?"
  
  "Yes, opportunities. Life's full of potential wins." Jack flashed his brother an amused smile. "And thanks to your friend, I have an amazing opportunity for my brother."
  
  Levi froze. A cautious look on his face, he glanced between them. "You do?"
  
  "Yep." Jack nudged her. "Tell Levi what we decided about the pub."
  
  Blaine smiled. "Oh, you mean about buying the two buildings on either side, tearing them down, and expanding?"
  
  "Yeah." Jack smirked. "That's the one."
  
  "Wait! What? That wasn't my idea." Levi held up a hand. "That's way more than I planned."
  
  "You told me to think about it." Jack shrugged. "So I did. Found someone who'd invest cash in the place too."
  
  "Don't you think I should be involved in this decision?" Levi glared at Jack.
  
  "Sure." Jack smacked Levi's back, making him stumble. "But I know my intelligent brother wouldn't let a good opportunity pass him by."
  
  Blaine let her gaze travel over her husband's body before meeting his eyes. "And when the opportunity of a lifetime is in front of you, the smart thing to do is act, not think, or else you might lose everything."
  
  Jack's knowing smile wrapped around her, completing her. He was the best spur-of-the-moment decision she'd ever made.