New Arrivals: His Inherited Family

His eyes narrowed. “No.”

“Has Steve really found something in the will?”

“Devin—”

“I don’t believe you.” Why, oh, why did she keep letting her guard down? What was the matter with her?

“Believe me,” Lucas stated, voice hard as steel, “Steve has found something. And if you and I duke it out in court, Amelia will be the loser. Your testimony, misguided as it is, will play right into his hands.”

“I am not giving up on guardianship of Amelia.” She flattened herself against the pool wall, hands sloshing through the tepid water as she stepped sideways toward the ladder. “This conversation is over.”

He reached out and gasped her wet arm. “I’m not asking you to give up on guardianship, Devin. I’m asking you to buy us time for Amelia’s sake.”

She shook off his hold, fighting the tingle that was left behind from his fingertips. “You’ve never done a single thing for Amelia’s sake.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” She rubbed the arm where he’d touched her, fighting hard to ignore his closeness, the darkness around them, the cool water lapping against her bare skin.

“You won’t even listen,” he accused.

“I’ve been listening plenty. All I do is listen to you. And I give you the benefit of the doubt, over and over—”

“Ha!” he scoffed.

“And I make stupid decisions.”

He moved in. “And you don’t think I do? I make the stupidest decisions in the world when it comes to you.” His body brushed up against hers, thigh-to-thigh, belly-to-belly.

“Lucas,” she gasped, reacting instantly to his touch.

Her skin flushed hot, her nipples beaded, while raw desired pooled in the base of her belly.

In slow motion, he tipped his head, and she held her breath, waiting for his lips.

The peach-colored fabric for Devin’s bra had gone translucent in the water, the image dancing through Lucas’s brain. Her nipples were hard, and the filmy fabric revealed every nuance of her gorgeous breasts. Her face was red, her full lips parted.

With steely determination, he kept himself from completing the kiss. Instead, he slid his fingertips along her slick arm and rounded her shoulder, skimming his way to the curve of her neck.

Her pupils dilated, and her breath came in small gasps. He knew he was playing with fire.

The ripples from the water lapped between them. His hand slid around to the nape of her neck, fingers inching into her hairline as he urged her closer still.

“I can’t trust you,” she told him, even as she tipped her chin and canted her face to the right angle.

“I know,” he responded softly, the words more a caress than part of a coherent conversation. But he understood her position. He didn’t much care about it at this exact moment, but he understood it.

“And you can’t trust me,” she breathed, her words and her body giving him mixed messages.

He shifted so that their bare thighs brushed together. “I know that, too,” he answered with honesty.

He gave in and brushed his lips against hers in a tender, painfully brief kiss. It was more a question than a statement. If she was going to back off, he needed her to do it now… right now.

Instead, her fingertips fluttered across his bare chest, sending spikes of desire deep into his belly.

“Stalemate all over again,” she murmured.

“Story of our lives.” And he kissed her harder, parting his lips, sliding his free hand around the base of her spine, dragging her into the cradle of his thighs, nothing but the thinnest silk separating her heat from his need.

“This won’t—” The rest of her words were lost on a gasp, even as her arms twined around his neck, her plump breasts pressing against his skin, her hard nipples burning him like a brand.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, while one hand smoothed her hair, caressed her neck, her cheek, brushed across her tiny ear. She was so perfect, so delectable, he couldn’t kiss her enough, couldn’t touch her enough, couldn’t hold her tightly enough.

Her palms ran over his shoulders, sliding across his slick, wet skin, tracing the curve of his biceps, searing a train of heat wherever they went. He felt his muscles bunch to steel. Every inch of his body hardened, and his tunnel vision narrowed to Devin.

He kneaded the small of her back, slipping his fingertips under the elastic of her peach panties. The slippery sensations of skin, silk and water brought a groan from deep in his throat.

Her tongue answered his, and her hands grasped his shoulders, small fingers digging erotically into his tightening muscles. He cradled her bottom, lifting her easily, pulling her against him as she bobbed in the cool water. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and his body reflexively arched against hers. He cursed the fabric separating them.

She moaned his name, and he felt himself move to the ragged edge of control.

“Not here,” he managed to say, but he kissed her longer and harder and deeper.

“Then—”

His hand closed over her pert breast, and she gasped out loud.

The stairs were only a few feet away. He could do this. He moved toward them.

Without breaking the kiss, he mounted the short staircase in the shallow end of the pool. He carried her across the deck, past the towel rack, snagging his running shorts before taking her into the dark warm depths and privacy of the pool house.

She drew back, blinking her glazed eyes before glancing at the daybed in the small, dimly lit room. She seemed to hesitate. “This is a bad—”

He strummed the pad of his thumb across her swollen nipple, and she sucked in a breath. Her thighs convulsively tightened around him, and he felt a shot of raw lust cascade through his body.

He already knew this was a bad idea. It was a terribly stupid, reckless idea. But he was far past caring.

He captured her mouth with his, kissing her deeper still. His hands slid over her satiny skin. He inhaled her scent, tasted the sweetness of her mouth, groaned in near ecstasy when her small hands stroked from his chest to his waist and below.

He sat back on the daybed, flicked the clasp of her bra, then tossed the delicate garment aside.

“You are gorgeous,” he groaned, caressing her breasts all over again.

She tipped her head back, her eyes going shut, the apex of her body pressed tight against him. He rotated his pelvis, savoring the sensation. Her hands clasped his thighs, each fingertip a pinpoint of sensation.

He feathered a touch along her inner thigh, traced the edge of her filmy panties, slipping inside until she gasped and squirmed against him.

He caught her moan in a hot, deep kiss, while he stripped off his boxers, groping in his running shorts for the condom in the pocket.

He found it, but her panties were in the way.

He fisted his hand around one strip of lace. Cursing in frustration, he jerked the fabric and it easily tore away.

Devin wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her gorgeous body against him, kissing his neck, his ear, his temple, running her hands through his hair and holding tight.

He bracketed her hips with both hands, slowly pushing his way inside her, inch by amazing inch, feeling her hot body clasp him. He bent his head and kissed one nipple, drawing it into the cavern of his mouth.

“Lucas,” she cried, and he thrust all the way home.

Her lithe body molded around him, and instinct took over as he pressed and withdrew.

The hot summer air surrounded them. The scents from the garden swirled in. The glow of the yard lights seemed to dance through the window, while the sensations of Devin hijacked his brain.

She kissed him.

Deeply at first.

Then more gently, more slowly, as if she was savoring the sensations.

Her body matched his thrusts, her breathing deep and steady.

She cradled his face with her hands, drawing back ever so slightly, gazing into his eyes, hers glowing midnight, sparkling with blue diamonds.

He slowed the rhythm, while they stared at each other. Neither said a word, but their communication was finally clear, crystal clear, no pretense or posturing between them.

He tried to hang on.

He desperately wanted to stop time. Right here. Right now. Forever.

But instinct took over. His pace increased, and her eyes fluttered shut. She clung tighter, and he rose higher and higher until her cries pierced the summer dark, and he followed her over the edge.

His heart thundered. His lungs dragged in air, his body desperately trying to recover from their cataclysmic lovemaking.

Devin melted against him, her hot body obviously spent, sweat mixing with pool water on his slick skin, and he laid back on the daybed and hugged her to him. He stroked her wet hair, kissed her temple, smoothed his hands down her bare back.

“Hoo, boy,” she breathed in his ear.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

She was silent for a long moment. “Define ‘okay’?”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

Her body quaked with a brief chuckle. “I’m not hurt. Surprised, maybe.”

“You’re surprised?” He drew back so that he could look into her eyes. “I saw that one coming a mile away.”

She shook her head in denial, but he wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

He caught her gaze once more. “Are you saying I’m the only one of us who’s been fantasizing all week long?” She glanced off to the side without answering. “Admit it,” he cajoled.

This time, she dropped her forehead against his. “There’s something wrong with us.” “We’re healthy adults?”

“We’re making a bad situation even more complicated.” “Devin?”

“Yes?”

“It’s okay to take a break here. We can easily restart the fight again tomorrow.” Cradling the back of her neck, he gently laid her head against his shoulder. For the moment, he just wanted to hold her close. He wasn’t ready to let go.

“Are you declaring a truce?” she asked, voice muffled.

“A truce is better than a stalemate,” he sighed, settling her in the circle of his arms, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck and inhaling her fresh scent.

She relaxed against him, her lips brushing his hairline as she spoke. “Just until breakfast, okay?”

He kissed her neck, then he kissed her ear, then he drew back and kissed her swollen lips, once, then twice, then a third, long time. “Until breakfast,” he agreed, feeling arousal pulse through his body all over again.

In the breakfast alcove off the Demarcos’ big kitchen, Devin kept her attention studiously on Amelia in the high chair, spooning rice pablum into the baby’s mouth, while various staff members worked in the kitchen.

Across the table, Lucas had long since finished an omelet and was sipping his second cup of coffee.

“Is that enough, sweetheart?” Devin asked as Amelia pursed her mouth against a spoonful of pablum.

Amelia kicked her feet in response and reached her hand out for the small bottle of apple juice sitting on the table. Devin swiftly wiped Amelia’s mouth and handed her the colorful juice bottle.

“Is that the plan?” asked Lucas, voice flat. Devin glanced around and realized the kitchen had emptied of staff.

“What plan?” she asked cheerfully, without meeting his eyes. Instead she mopped up the splashes of pablum from the high-chair tray before taking a bite of her toasted blueberry bagel that had long since gone cold.

“We pretend it never happened?”

“I like it.” Devin nodded and wiped the high-chair tray with the damp cloth. “It’s a pretty good plan.”

In the cold light of day, she couldn’t believe she’d had sex with Lucas, in the pool house, with bohemian abandon.

She’d yelled.

She wasn’t a yeller.

What had gotten into her? What must Lucas think? “Look at me,” he told her. She didn’t. “Why?” “Are you embarrassed?”

“No.” Not exactly. Okay, yeah, embarrassed would be a good word. She made sure the corners of the high-chair tray were spotless.

“Because there’s nothing—”

“Lucas.” At the end of her rope, she set down the cloth and glared at him. “Can we not talk about this?”

He paused, looking uncertain. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. I’m great. I’ve got a lot to do today.”

Amelia was running low on diapers and applesauce, and Devin was determined to get some writing done at nap time.

Lucas cleared his throat. “We still need to talk about Steve. We still need to talk about the nanny.”

“I do have a life, you know.”

He went silent for another moment. “I never said you didn’t.”

“It can’t all be about your agenda.” “My agenda is to take care of Amelia.” “Well, so is mine.” “Good. Then we agree.”

Amelia dropped her bottle on the hardwood floor, and Devin bent to retrieve it.

She sat upright again. “I doubt very much we agree on anything.”

His eyes flared with determination. “We agreed last night.”

Devin brought her hands down on the tabletop. “Are you going to throw last night up in my face forever.”

“I meant we agreed to face the truth last night. And eight hours isn’t forever?”

Amelia had grown tired of sitting in the high chair and started to squirm.

Devin reached over and untied her bib, folding the damp fabric and placing it on the table. She squeezed the latch on the high chair tray and slid it forward, reaching under Amelia’s arms to lift her out.

Lucas stood up. “You are completely rattled.”

“No, I’m not.” But she knew he was right. Last night had seemed like a good idea at the time. Okay, it had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now she realized that by sleeping with Lucas she had given him the advantage.

Because, while he seemed perfectly capable of casual sex, Devin found her feelings for him hopelessly confused. On the one hand, she wanted to fight him. She needed to keep fighting him for Amelia’s sake. On the other hand, she found herself wanting to continue the truce.

Maybe she just wanted to sleep with him again. Or maybe she needed to convince herself that it was more than just lust last night. How could she enjoy sex so much with a man she didn’t respect and admire? It didn’t make sense.

Nothing made sense this morning.

A staff member entered the kitchen and began clearing up the coffee service from the breakfast bar.

Lucas dropped his voice. “We need to talk.”

“We just did.”

“We need to be together on this, Devin.”

She tucked Amelia against her shoulder. “We need to forget it ever happened.”

“I’m not talking about sex,” he hissed, and the staff member faltered in her cleanup.

Devin frowned.

Lucas leaned closer. “Steve. We need to be together against Steve.”

“Not now,” said Devin with a shake of her head. She needed time to herself. She needed to get her head on straight about, well, everything.

“Then when?” he persisted.

“I don’t know.” She paused. “Tomorrow. Okay? Tomorrow.”

“Devin.” His exasperation was clear. She moved toward the door to the main hallway. “Back off, Lucas. I need a little time.”

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