Billionaire Baby Dilemma
“You’re not making sense.”
He pinned her with a glare. “I saw his car.”
“You were spying on me?”
“No.” In point of fact, he’d been spying on Steve. “I was not spying on you. But I know he was here, and I want to know what he told you.”
Opening a manufacturing plant in South America was not a decision to be taken lightly. Steve would have given her a rosy profit picture and glossed over all the risks. It made Lucas crazy that he had to justify his international corporate strategy to a woman whose sole business experience was in autographing her trite, self-help books for the lovelorn.
Devin gave her head a little shake, her short, wispy, brunette hair moving ever so slightly with the motion. “It’s none of your business.”
Lucas felt his blood pressure rise. “So, you admit he was here.”
“That’s also none of your business.”
“Damn it, Devin,” he shouted.
A baby’s cry sounded from farther inside the house.
Devin smacked the palm of her hand against the end of the open door. “Now see what you’ve done?”
Lucas instantly realized Amelia was here.
Of course Amelia was here. She lived here.
Devin turned on her heel and swished into the living room on bare feet, her faded jeans clinging to a shapely rear end. Lucas ignored the view. Instead, he took the opportunity to close the door and follow her inside the house. He wasn’t leaving without answers.
Devin reemerged into the living room, a red-faced, blubbering and soggy-looking Amelia tucked over one shoulder. Her hand rubbed up and down the baby’s back as she snarled at Lucas. “Thanks tons.”
“I didn’t know she was sleeping.”
“It’s three in the afternoon. What did you think she’d be doing?”
Lucas didn’t have a clue, and it seemed pointless to venture a guess. “If you’ll just tell me what Steve said.”
Amelia’s cries grew louder, and Devin began jiggling her. “You have a lot of nerve, Lucas Demarco. Barging in here—”
“Steve has a lot of nerve sneaking around behind my back.”
She stilled. “He offered to help me.”
Lucas snorted out a cold laugh. “Steve’s never helped anybody his entire life.”
Amelia shrieked, nearly piercing Lucas’s eardrums. He cut her an annoyed glance. “Can’t you do something to—”
To his shock, Devin plopped the baby against his chest.
He automatically reached out to grasp the child beneath her arms, leaving her dangling out of the way of his clean suit. “What the…”
“You try,” said Devin.
Amelia took one look at Lucas’s face and opened her mouth to bawl. Her eyes scrunched shut, tears squeezing out the corners, and her face turned brighter red as the decibels increased.
Devin headed for the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Lucas cried, embarrassed by the high pitch to his voice.
“To get her a bottle.”
“But—” The baby squirmed against his grip, but he was afraid to hold her closer. Her nose was running, and shiny drool was smeared across her chin.
He was wearing a Savile Row suit, for pity’s sake.
Then she suddenly stopped howling. She stiffened. Her face scrunched up, and a horrible rumble emanated from her little body. The stench that filled the air nearly made him gag. He breathed shallowly, through his mouth, glancing frantically around the room for a place to put her down.
Thankfully, Devin emerged from the kitchen.
“That’s a good girl,” she cooed, shooting Lucas a glare, retrieving the baby and cuddling her close, barely flinching at the smell.
Lucas took a very large step backward, silently acknowledging Devin’s fortitude.
“Do you need a change, sweetheart?” she asked the baby.
Lucas thought fumigation might be more in order. But when Devin laid Amelia on her back on the floor and reached for a bright blue diaper bag, all he could think about was escaping.
He darted toward an open window.
“Would you like to change her?” Devin asked sweetly.
Lucas’s jaw dropped open. He could probably count on one hand the number of times in his life he’d been rendered speechless. But this was one of them.
“Since you’re going for sole custody,” Devin continued, “you might as well get in some practice.”
“She’ll have a nanny,” he pointed out.
Devin tugged off Amelia’s stretchy pink pants, revealing a white diaper. “You don’t plan to change her diapers?”
Lucas turned away, gazing across the wooden deck and the sloped lawn to the calm waters of the lake. Devin’s neighbor had a dock with a sleek speedboat tied up. A few dozen houses were visible along the curve of the shoreline, front yards neatly landscaped, while evergreens covered the hillsides behind. It was actually quite beautiful here.
“Lucas?” Devin prompted.
“I don’t expect it to be necessary,” he said, answering her question. There was a very good reason why nannies were invented.
“There’s a girl,” Devin cooed, and Lucas dared to look back to where Amelia stood on chubby bare feet, hand grasping Devin’s hair for balance.
Devin tucked away the change pad and handed Amelia a bottle of juice. The baby promptly plunked down on her fresh diaper and popped the bottle in her mouth.
“Why do you want custody?” Devin asked, coming to her feet, brushing her palms across her backside and finger-combing her hair where Amelia had mussed it. Her T-shirt was wrinkled, and several damp spots dotted its front. It was no wonder she went for plain, serviceable clothing. He could only imagine the havoc Amelia would wreak on linen and silk.
Still, the plain clothing couldn’t hide her gorgeous figure. She was short, maybe five-five. And the absence of heels made her seem even shorter. But her legs were lithe and toned, her waist nipped in and breasts rounded and in perfect proportion to everything else.
He didn’t know what she did for exercise, but it was working.
“You don’t seem particularly interested in Amelia,” Devin continued.
“She’s a Demarco.”
“So?”
“So, I have a responsibility—”
“Can’t you at least be honest?”
“I am being honest.” He owed it to his brother to keep Amelia safe. If Lucas had died with a daughter in such a vulnerable position, he’d expect no less of Konrad.
“You want her ten percent of Pacific Robotics, Lucas, controlling interest. You don’t give one whit about Amelia as a person.”
“You’re dead wrong about that.”
“I’ll do whatever you ask for the company,” she pledged. “I promise I won’t interfere.”
He wished he could believe her. “What did Steve say?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
Lucas threw up his hands. “I know what he said.” He’d offered her a deal. If she won guardianship of Amelia, Steve would make it worth her while to support his plans for expansion into South America.
“Then why ask me?”
“I wanted to know if I could trust you.”
She moved closer. “You’re lying. You’ll never trust me. You wanted information to use against me.”
She was close.
He’d wanted information to use against Steve. “I can see this is getting us nowhere.”
“I’m way ahead of you, Lucas. I’ve known for weeks that we were going nowhere.”
He gazed into her crystal blue eyes, unable to help noticing her dark lashes, prettily arched brows, small, straight nose, bow lips and creamy smooth skin. She was a beautiful woman. She was also feisty and passionate, making her a frustrating opponent.
But he’d defeated frustrating opponents before. And he’d win this battle, too. She might know how to change a diaper, but Amelia needed more than hugs and a fresh bottom. She was a Demarco. She would one day control a significant percentage of a corporation worth hundreds of millions of dollars.
She needed education, advice and experience, and she needed the security and savvy that went along with her future position in life. Lake Westmire might be a fine place to raise most children. But it wasn’t enough for Amelia.
Two
Devin was more than pleased with the lawyer Steve had provided for the temporary custody hearing. The man made his points to the judge concisely and eloquently, describing Devin’s bond with Amelia, how Devin had been present during her birth and that Amelia had lived in Devin’s house since coming home from the hospital. He provided testimonial letters from friends and neighbors speaking of Devin’s parenting skills, the nursery she’d outfitted for Amelia and her attention to Amelia’s health and well-being.
He’d then contrasted Lucas’s lack of parenting experience, his plans to hire a nanny instead of being hands-on himself and the fact that he’d spent almost no time with Amelia since her birth. He acknowledged the security concerns around a child from such a wealthy family, but pointed out there were many options to ensure her safety.
Devin had to admit, she’d never thought about the potential of someone kidnapping Amelia for ransom. Did that even still happen in America? It had been a long time since the Lindbergh case.
She’d thought he’d done a stellar job, thought they were sure to win. But then at the last minute Lucas’s lawyer stood up to address the judge.
He acknowledged Devin’s bond with Amelia, talked about the portability of Devin’s career as a self-help book writer, then suggested what he called a compromise—that both Amelia and Devin take up temporary residence at the Demarco mansion. Amelia could be with Devin, but she’d also have the advantage of the Demarco security.
Devin’s gaze flew to Lucas’s face. His smug expression told her he’d planned this all along.
He’d known he couldn’t beat her in a straight-up fight, and he’d come up with an underhanded way to snatch her victory. By the time permanent guardianship was considered, Lucas would have built a bond with Amelia. And Devin’s best advantage would be gone.
She opened her mouth to protest, but she knew there was no way out. Any argument she put forward would make her sound unreasonable. This same judge would eventually decide permanent guardianship, and Devin couldn’t afford to yield the moral high ground to Lucas. On the face of it, he was offering a reasonable solution.
In reality, he had outmaneuvered her. Amelia would be under his roof, and under his care, and Devin knew he would pull out all the stops to make the Demarco mansion a perfect home for the baby.
“Ms. Hartley?” asked the judge, her hand going to the gavel.
Devin’s lawyer spoke up. “We can’t support that kind of disruption to Amelia’s life. She’s already lost her mother. Ms. Hartley’s house is the only home she’s ever known.”
The judge’s gaze moved to Devin. “You’re a writer? You work from home?”
Devin had no choice but to nod.
“Do you have other children?”
Devin shook her head.
“Do you object to coming to a compromise?”
Devin recognized a trick question when she heard it. Next, the judge would want to know why she objected to better security for Amelia. She shook her head in capitulation.
The judge brought the gavel down. “So ordered. Temporary custody goes to Ms. Hartley, provided she and the child reside at the Demarco mansion. Open visitation is awarded to Mr. Demarco. I trust you will arrange for security, sir?”
“Of course, Your Honor.” Lucas nodded.
Devin’s lawyer leaned sideways. “Sorry about that.”
Devin shook her head. “You couldn’t have seen it coming.”
“Lucas is a good strategist.”
Devin scoffed. “In my neighborhood, we call that conniving.”
“That’s what we call it in my neighborhood, too.” He placed the file folders back in his briefcase. “But it works.”
“It works,” Devin agreed. And she had no one to blame but herself. She’d underestimated Lucas. She’d make sure that never happened again.
“Devin?” Lucas stepped across the courtroom to her table, his shadow coming over her.
“You’re a piece of work,” she said as she gathered her purse and pushed back her chair.
“So I’ve been told.”
“You backed me into a corner.”
“Yes, I did.”
Devin looked up. “You play dirty.”
He didn’t even bat an eye. “Only when it counts.”
“Why do I get the feeling it counts a lot?”
“I play to win.”
“This isn’t a game, Lucas.” A little girl’s future was on the line. Amelia wasn’t some pawn to be passed around at the whim and convenience of the adults in her life.
He paused for a moment, expression hardening, obviously taking offense at Devin’s candor. “That’s why it counts.” He rapped his knuckles decisively on the tabletop. “How long will it take you to pack?”
She stood to confront him. She’d worn two-inch heels, but she wished she had a little more height. He was easily over six feet, neatly trimmed hair, freshly shaved, an expensive suit, fine silk tie, everything pressed to within an inch of its life. The man positively reeked power.
“You mean in days?” she asked sarcastically, thinking she’d need a couple of weeks.
“I meant in hours.”
She did an expression check to see if he was joking. He wasn’t.
“When you say jump, do people generally ask how high?”
He tented his fingers on the table and leaned slightly forward. “I try not to say jump unless I have to.”
She refused to flinch under his attempt at intimidation. “I need a week.”
“No problem.”
She blinked in surprise.
“I’ll take Amelia with me now, and you can catch up.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Lucas turned to Devin’s lawyer, who had been watching the exchange with obvious interest. “Bill? Is there a countdown to the judge’s order? Some sort of implementation period?”
Devin looked to Bill. “No countdown,” he admitted with an apologetic glance in Devin’s direction. “The order takes effect right away.”
Lucas turned his attention back to Devin. “How long will it take you to pack?” he repeated.
She couldn’t let him win again. Certainly not this early, and definitely not this decisively. She frantically searched her brain for a comeback.
Then it came to her, and her shoulders relaxed with relief. The man was bluffing.
Instead of answering his question, she reached into her purse for her cell phone, flipped it open and pressed the speed dial for Lexi.
Lexi picked up after a single ring. “How’d it go?” Her voice was breathless.
“How are you, Lexi?”
There was a confused pause. “Uh, fine. But what the hell happened?”
“It’s a bit complicated.”
“Why?”
“Can you get Amelia’s car seat and diaper bag ready?”
“Sure,” said Lexi.
Devin tipped the phone beneath her chin, addressing Lucas. “You do have a backseat in that sports car, right?”
His eyes narrowed.
“Lucas is going to pick her up.”
Lexi’s voice lowered to a growl. “He didn’t. Tell me he did not get custody.”
“No.” Devin kept her voice even. “It’s just a visit.” She watched Lucas carefully. She’d seen his reaction to Amelia’s crying, the fear and loathing of her messy diaper. No way, no how, was the man going to put himself into a position where he was alone with her.
But instead of capitulating, Lucas gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He pressed a number on his phone. “Beauchamp Nanny Service?” He held Devin’s gaze while he spoke. “I’m going to need a nanny within the hour.”
Devin swore under her breath.
“What was that?” asked Lexi.
“I’ll be home in an hour,” Devin responded.
“The car seat?”
“I’ll tell you about it when I get there.” Devin ended the call.
“I’ll call you right back,” Lucas said into his phone. Then he tucked it into his pocket and looked expectantly at Devin. “So, how long will it take you to pack?”
Lucas watched while two members of the household staff lugged the last of Devin and Amelia’s belongings up the wide, curving staircase that rose from the octagonal entry foyer of the Demarco mansion. It was completely dark now, and Devin had tartly informed him a few minutes ago that it was past Amelia’s bedtime, before pointedly closing the nursery door in his face.
“Told you not to trust him,” Byron Phoenix said as he ambled into the two-story foyer from the hallway that led to the great room and the study.
“I never trusted him,” Lucas responded, turning to face his deceased mother’s second husband, Byron, who was dressed in his usual blue jeans and Western-style shirt. His trimmed brown hair was streaked with silver. He had a highball in his hand—cola and something. His custom-leather tooled boots clicked against the tile floor.
“He shelled out for her lawyers?” Byron came to a halt, his broad shoulders squaring, thumbs hooking into his belt loops while his gaze followed the stairs to the second floor where Devin and Amelia had been given adjoining rooms with a shared bathroom.
“Probably should have seen that one coming,” Lucas admitted. At least it explained why Steve had gone out to Lake Westmire, and why Devin had at first denied the fact that he’d been there. “At least she’s finally home.”
“But so is that mama bear Devin Hartley,” Byron pointed out.
“She is a problem,” Lucas admitted. He’d won today, but then so had Devin.
Byron puffed out his broad chest. “We shoot intruders back in Texas.”
“If we shot intruders here in Seattle, you’d have been dead years ago.”
“You know I loved your mama.” Byron’s words weren’t defensive, he was simply stating fact.
It had taken Lucas a few years, but he’d come to respect that the rough Texas cattle baron made his mother—Crystal—happy.
“Back then, everyone called you an intruder,” Lucas pointed out.
“Are you defending Devin?”
“No.” Lucas hadn’t meant to take up Devin’s side. She was a very big problem for him. She obviously wasn’t going to disappear easily, and now she had Steve to bankroll her efforts.
Lucas glanced at Byron’s crystal glass and decided a drink was a good idea. He started toward the great room, which was accessed by a wood-panel and portrait-lined hallway. Byron fell into step.
“What’s your next move?” asked Byron.
Lucas had been thinking about that. “Since she just matched my biggest advantage over her—legal resources—I suppose I’ll have to match her biggest advantage over me.”
“You going to put on a wig and an apron?”
“Funny.”
The big man grinned. “I thought so.”
“Amelia adores her.” Lucas knew he had to make certain Amelia was comfortable with him, too.
The amused grin grew on Byron’s face as they entered the softly lit room. “Lucas Demarco, Uncle of the Year?”
“How hard can it be?” Lucas paused. “I mean, I’ll hire a nanny for the sticky stuff. But I can read her a book, build her a castle or play catch or something.”
“That little gal can’t even walk yet.”
“You know what I mean.”
Byron turned thoughtful. “You do know that Bernard and Botlow have had past dealings with Pacific Robotics, right?”
“I’m aware,” said Lucas, his gaze going to the bank of picture windows that looked out over the concrete terrace, the sloping lawn of the estate and the lights of the ships on Puget Sound below.
“If you were to ask, the court might just declare that a conflict of interest.”
“Or they might consider me an obstructionist for trying to block Devin’s legal support.”
“And give little ol’ Devin the sympathy vote,” Byron concluded.
“Sweet young aunt,” Lucas mused out loud, a picture of Devin’s fresh, girl-next-door beauty flashing in his mind as he poured himself two fingers of Macallan. “Self-employed and making ends meet at a lakeshore cottage in a bucolic little community with pets and picnic tables. I’m sure she attends town hall meetings and bakes cookies for good causes. Amelia clearly adores her. I tell you, the last thing we want to do is turn her into even more of a sympathetic underdog.”
“A sympathetic underdog?” It was Devin’s surprisingly sharp voice.
Lucas set down the Scotch bottle and turned.
She started across the room, stride confident, shoulders squared. She wore a baggy T-shirt and some kind of clingy slacks topping white running shoes.
“At least you didn’t call me pathetic,” she challenged.
Byron recovered first and stepped forward, extending his hand. “Byron Phoenix. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“Lawyer?” asked Devin, eyes narrowing as she gave him a brief handshake.
Byron scoffed out a laugh. “Extended family.”
Devin raised her brows in an obvious question.
“He was married to my mother,” Lucas explained.
“You have a stepfather?” Devin was clearly surprised.
Byron chuckled heartily at that one.
“I was twenty-two when they got married. We hardly played catch.”
“My mistake,” said Devin.
“Could’ve taught you to rope steers,” Byron remarked.
“Care for a drink?” Lucas asked Devin, his manners belatedly kicking in.
“No thank you.” She peered through the wall of windows and out into the yard. “And I don’t need the sympathy vote. I’m planning to beat you fair and square. Is there someplace out there I can go for a run?”
“Hear that?” Lucas said to Byron. “She’s going jogging. The woman appears to be a paragon of all virtues. I suppose you’re a vegetarian teetotaler, as well.”
Devin shot him a look of disdain. Then she caught him by surprise, snagging the glass out of his hand and downing a healthy swallow. “I’m not a paragon of anything,” she told him, handing the glass back to him, voice only slightly wheezy from the straight Scotch.
Byron couldn’t seem to stop himself from chuckling. “The woman definitely has spunk. Too bad there, Lucas. A shrinking wildflower would have made your life a whole lot easier.”
“I sleep better when I run,” Devin told him. “And since I don’t have the luxury of my own bed, and since Amelia is likely to be up at 4:00 a.m., I’d like to take a quick jog around the grounds if that’s all right with you.”
“One of the housekeepers can get up with Amelia,” Lucas offered.
Devin widened her stance and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not staffing out my niece.”
“I retract my earlier criticism,” said Lucas, holding her gaze. “You’re not a paragon, you’re a purist.”
“I’m only trying to survive.” For a split second, a flash of unvarnished hurt traced through her eyes.
Lucas felt a shot of empathy. Devin’s sister might have broken his brother’s heart, and Devin might blame Konrad for Monica’s death, but they’d both suffered a terrible loss. They shared that much.
Then she blinked, and the moment was gone, and she was his adversary once more.
He downed the remains of the drink. “I’ll show you.”
“Show me what?”
“Where you can jog.”
“Just point it out. I’ll find my way.”
But Lucas was already on his way to change. “Meet me on the pool deck. Downstairs, past the kitchen.”
Devin didn’t know why she’d waited. It wasn’t as if she’d get lost on the estate. The extensive yard was well lit, and she was fairly certain it was fenced—not that she was planning to go out of sight of the big mansion anyway. There were lights on all the way up to the third-floor turret. She’d probably be able to spot it for miles.
The clear water sparkled in the outdoor pool, submerged lights illuminating its beautiful blue depths. She couldn’t help but admire the tiered decks and the gardens surrounding the pool. The chairs and loungers were padded with burgundy cushions. Both dining tables and occasional tables dotted the seating areas. Sun umbrellas covered many of the dining tables, while tall propane heaters were placed strategically throughout furniture groupings. It was obvious the Demarco family spent a lot of time out here.
Devin couldn’t help feeling as though she’s wandered into a five-star resort.
“Ready?” Lucas’s footfalls sounded on the wooden steps that led from a sundeck to the pool deck. He wore runners, a pair of lightweight black shorts and a sleeveless gray T-shirt with a Seattle Mariners team logo across the front.