“Here he comes again,” Lexi intoned.

“Byron?” Devin resisted the urge to twist her head to see the staircase behind her.

“Lucas.” Lexi took a sip of the iced tea, leaned back and adjusted the damp towel. “You might want to start taking notes.”

Devin couldn’t help a calculating smirk as Lucas made his way across the pool deck. She wondered how he’d feel about starring in her next book.

He was still wearing his business suit and a pair of perfectly shined dress shoes, though it had to be seventy degrees this afternoon, hotter in the sunshine. His glance went to Amelia, and he seemed to realize she was sleeping.

“I need to talk to you,” he whispered.

“You can use your normal voice,” Devin responded, finding herself watching him closely, thinking about his life and his world and how she might use the Demarcos as fodder for her next book. “Just don’t shout.”

“Okay,” he agreed, testing the chair that Byron had vacated earlier with the back of his hand. Apparently, satisfied that it was dry, he sat down sideways, those expensively shod feet firmly planted on the textured, concrete deck.

He gazed at Amelia for a long minute. Then he glanced to Devin, uncertainty plain on his aristocratic face. “I can…uh, hold her. That is, if you don’t mind.”

Devin’s mouth quirked in a reflexive grin. “You want to hold Amelia?”

He smoothed his palms along his suit pants. “Yes. Sure.” He nodded, still watching Amelia as if he was afraid she might explode. “I’d like to hold her.”

“Why?”

His gray eyes narrowed. “Because she’s my niece.”

Devin shifted a little, but Amelia didn’t stir. It was probably a good time for Lucas to take another shot. “Have you ever held a baby before?”

“Just the one time,” he admitted.

Devin couldn’t help but note the wary expression on his face. “Okay.” She scooted carefully forward.

At the last minute, she realized that once Amelia was out of her arms, she’d be sitting here in nothing but her bikini. She gritted her teeth and told herself to buck up. Lucas would probably be so busy worrying about Amelia that he wouldn’t even notice.

She rose and placed the baby carefully in his arms.

His gaze shifted to her cleavage and stayed there.

She quickly straightened and stepped back. She briefly debated dashing across the deck to get herself another towel, but she decided that would be too obvious.

She sat down on the lounger and laid back, pretending she didn’t care about the bikini and truly appreciating the empty arms. She enjoyed holding Amelia, but the baby girl did get heavy after a while.

Lexi had kept silent, watching with undisguised interest while Lucas held Amelia.

He seemed to relax ever so slightly, turning, shifting back and putting his legs up on the lounger. He gingerly moved Amelia to a more comfortable position. She wriggled in the big towel, but then went still.

Devin tried not to notice how good he looked with a baby in his arms. For some reason, the bundle of sleeping Amelia seemed to soften the edges of his expression. He came across as protective instead of harsh. It made him even more attractive, if that was possible.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked him, hoping he wasn’t round two of a tag-team match with Byron.

“A nanny,” said Lucas, his attention still fixed on Amelia.

“There’s no rush,” she responded. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of Amelia.”

“I know you are,” he acknowledged. “But you might not always be here.”

She glared at him.

“Is that a threat?” Lexi asked.

Lucas seemed to remember she was there. “I’ve never made a secret of the fact that I intend to win guardianship,” he told them both.

“As do I,” said Devin.

Lucas stared evenly back at her. “If you do, you can fire the nanny. If not, I thought you might like to help me choose.” He paused, while Devin sorted the offer out in her mind.

She didn’t want to even consider the possibility of leaving Amelia with Lucas. Her brain almost refused to go to the worstcase scenario. But it might come to that. And if it did, and she had to leave… Her stomach contracted with pain, and she had to resist the urge to snatch Amelia out of Lucas’s arms.

If it came to that, wouldn’t she feel better knowing who was caring for Amelia? And would it not be in her best interest to develop a positive relationship with her?

“I’m not a monster,” said Lucas.

Lexi gave a grunt of disbelief.

Lucas shot her a quelling look before returning his attention to Devin. “I’m after exactly the same thing as you.”

“For very different reasons.”

He shook his head and sighed. “I’m going to choose a nanny, Devin. You can help me or not, it’s entirely up to-” He gasped in horror.

Devin sat bolt upright in shock. “What?”

Lucas nearly leveled her with a look. “Is this child wearing a diaper?”

Devin shouldn’t laugh. She couldn’t laugh. Oh, dear. She quickly clapped her hand to her mouth.

“I am wearing a Brioni suit,” Lucas ground from between clenched teeth.

“Sorry about that,” Devin managed to say.

“You might have mentioned-”

“I forgot,” she answered honestly.

“Forgive me if I have a hard time believing you.”

“I didn’t mean…” But she was struggling once more not to laugh. “Babies are messy,” she warned him.

“Is this your idea of revenge?”

“It’s my idea of letting you be an uncle. They pee, Lucas. They also drool and spit up. And they even-”

“I’ve already experienced that,” he growled.

“Be a man about it,” Lexi said.

“It’s a six-thousand-dollar suit,” he barked at her.

Amelia opened her eyes, took one look at Lucas and howled in fear.

He stiffened at the sound. “Oh, for the love of…”

Devin popped up out of the lounger and rescued Amelia. Lucas’s shirt, slacks and the lower part of his jacket were dark with wetness.

He stared down at his lap. “There is a reason they invented diapers,” he intoned.

“Accidents do happen,” said Devin, cradling the damp, but rapidly calming Amelia against her chest.

Lucas’s glare told her he considered this anything but.


“Nannies,” said Lucas, smacking a stack of résumés down next to Devin where she sat near one end of the long dining-room table, her laptop open in front of her. After this afternoon’s debacle, he realized more than ever that they needed to get themselves organized.

Dinner had long since been cleared away. He assumed Amelia was asleep. And Devin had a cup of tea cooling beside her computer as she typed. A plate of cookies and small pastries was in the middle of the table in front of her, but it didn’t look like she’d indulged.

“Accidents do happen,” she repeated, obviously correctly identifying the source of his displeasure. She hit another key then closed the laptop.

“Accidents,” he responded as he settled into the chair at the end of the table, around the corner from hers, “can be prevented.”

“Are you always this controlling?” she asked, glancing at the top nanny résumé.

“I’m always this organized.” He lifted the résumé and began reading. “Graduated from the London Royal Nanny Academy in 1978.”

“Too old.”

He looked up. “I requested someone with experience.”

Devin shook her head. “Not that much experience. Amelia will be walking soon, and toddlers are energetic.”

“We’re looking for a nanny, not a playmate.”

Devin set her cup firmly down into the saucer. “I expect a good nanny to spend plenty of time playing with Amelia.”

“And I expect a good nanny to know her way around a changing table.”

“You need to get over that, Lucas.”

“I am over it.” He pointedly went back to reading.

“Sure you are,” Devin muttered.

Well, he could be forgiven his frustration. Amelia had looked fairly sweet and harmless while she slept on Devin’s lap. It had seemed like a perfect chance for him to stick his toe in the water of uncle-hood. How was he to know the baby was effectively booby-trapped?

But Devin had known.

He strongly suspected she’d set him up. But it would take more than that to dissuade him from bonding with Amelia. He’d already started reading a couple of how-to books. He’d master baby-raising or die trying.

He refocused his attention on the résumé in front of him. “It says she’s orderly, organized and-within her standard routine template-will customize a schedule that fits our lifestyle.”

“Standard routine template?” Devin’s tone was incredulous.

He glanced at her again. “What?”

“There’s no standard routine template for raising babies. All babies are unique.”

“I’m sure she means meals and naps and walks and things.”

“Babies should sleep when they’re tired and eat when they’re hungry.”

Lucas blinked. That sounded an awful lot like chaos to him. “Are you joking?”

“Absolutely not. Routines ought to be child-led for the first few years.”

He paused, squinting at her. “You’re messing with me, right?”

She whisked the résumé out of his hand and put it facedown on the table. “Next.”

“Put the baby in charge? Good grief, Devin. It’s a baby.”

She took the next résumé from the pile. “Early childhood certificate from Boise College.”

“Idaho?”

“‘Within broad boundaries, will create a positive, nurturing environment that respects the individuality and creativity of each child.’”

“Is that code for raising spoiled, ill-mannered hooligans?”

“I think it’s code for kindness and compassion.”

Lucas snagged the résumé from her hand and put it facedown with the other. “Next.”

“Hey!”

“You get a veto? Then so do I.”

Devin compressed her lips.