“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“You said that out loud?”

Devin gave a decisive nod. She didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding. The very last thing she needed was another go-round in Lucas’s arms. She banished the unwanted image and tamped down her wayward hormonal reaction. It would be a catastrophic mistake to kiss Lucas.


Okay, so technically, she was in Lucas’s arms again. But they were dancing, and it was all very proper. There was a good nine inches of space between them. Lucas’s dance frame was appropriate, and his lead was smooth and confident. He was also devastatingly handsome in his tux. No surprise there.

The ballroom at the Saturna Club was opulent and spacious. It had thirty-foot ceilings, with a marble pillar perimeter around the rectangular dance floor. The chandeliers were lavish, the flowers fresh, and dinner had featured fresh Pacific salmon and white chocolate mousse served with an impressive flare by what must have been a hundred efficient, tuxedoed waiters.

One long side of the ballroom opened to a concrete patio that overlooked Puget Sound. The crisp ocean breeze wafted in. Cruise ships, freighters and smaller boats passed by, while the lights of Bainbridge Island twinkled off in the distance.

After months of drool and diapers, Devin felt like a fairy princess. She’d even splurged on a new dress-though she’d never admit to Lucas that she’d gone shopping. It was strapless, copper satin, with a fitted top that shimmered against her skin, and a full skirt that rustled at her knees. She’d worn the rhinestone sandals and borrowed a silver link necklace and matching earrings from Lexi. The earrings dangled from her lobes, gently brushing against her neck as she danced.

It was fun to feel pretty.

“The nanny interviews start at ten in the morning,” Lucas reminded her as they moved into a turn.

Devin frowned up at him. “You’re ruining the mood.”

“There’s a mood?”

“Of course there’s a mood. We have music, fine food, champagne-”

“And beautiful women.” His eyes lit up with a appreciative smile that bordered on mischief.

“Handsome men,” she returned, refusing to react.

“Thank you.”

“Plural,” she corrected. “I was talking in general.”

“Well, I wasn’t.”

Her steps faltered. This wasn’t where she’d wanted the conversation to go.

“You look very beautiful, Devin.”

Though she knew she should, she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him, and it was a struggle to maintain her equilibrium. He was being polite, nothing more. It was appropriate to compliment a woman while escorting her for the evening. He didn’t mean she was beautiful in, say, comparison to the supermodels and trophy wives in ten-thousand-dollar dresses who were swirling around the room.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I believe the words you’re looking for are thank you.”

Her throat was dry, but she swallowed to clear it. “Thank you.”

He smiled and straightened.

“That wasn’t fair,” she admonished.

Amusement still lurked in his eyes. “Not fair?”

This time, she was the one who leaned in. “You promised.”

“Not to compliment you?”

“Not to…” She struggled for the right words. “This isn’t supposed to be a date.”

“You didn’t want to talk about nannies,” he responded with a shrug, like there were only two topics in the world.

“Fine. Let’s talk about nannies.”

“And spoil the mood?”

“Please. Go ahead and spoil the mood.” She didn’t care that she sounded petulant.

The danger in pretending she was a princess was that it made Lucas the prince. And it was all too easy to let the fantasy meander into perilous territory.

They’d arrived at the party tonight in a limo. Later, they’d go home to his castle. And if she wasn’t careful, she’d start thinking about a kiss good-night.

“The interviews begin at ten,” he said.

She shook off her wayward thoughts. “Not with the prison matrons.”

“I gave the agency both your specifications and mine. They’re sending people who are available immediately.”

She supposed she’d have to be content with that.

They danced a few more steps, swaying under shimmering lights.

“Did you have a nanny?” she found herself asking.

“Yes, I did,” he told her. “Several of them.”

“And did you like them?”

“Sometimes.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I was little boy. Nannies don’t like little boys to climb trees, throw rocks, jump bicycles and climb on the garage roof.”

Devin couldn’t help but smile at the images. “I take it you did all those things anyway?”

“Those and more. And so did Konrad. Looking back, I’m thinking that might be why we went through so many nannies.” The small orchestra switched to a slower song, and Lucas settled her a bit closer. “What about you?”

Devin shook her head. “No nanny for the Hartleys.”

“What were you like as a kid?”

“I don’t know. Normal, I guess.”

“Did you grow up at Lake Westmire?”

“Same house I live in now. With my mom and Monica. We swam, built sand castles, baked cookies, designed elaborate dollhouses all over the yard.”

Devin had moved away from Lake Westmire to attend college. She came back five years ago when her mother was diagnosed with cancer. But tonight wasn’t the time to think about that.

Instead, she fixed her memories on their teenage years. Monica had been a year younger, and the neighborhood had been full of kids around their ages.

“When we were teenagers,” she continued, remembering, “Monica and I sat with our friends around weekend bonfires down at the park by Sunny Bay.”

“And kissed the boys?” Lucas asked in a teasing tone.

“Tommy McGuire,” Devin admitted. “Ninth grade. It was a dare, and he cut my nose with his glasses.”

Lucas laughed at that.

“I bet your first kiss wasn’t perfect, either,” she retorted.

“You be the judge. I have videotape.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Steve secretly took it. He threatened to show my mother, until I beat the crap out of him and took the camera away.”

“You beat up Steve?”

“He was a Peeping Tom. I’m surprised he didn’t grow up to be a member of the paparazzi.”

“He was a kid.”

“He hasn’t changed.”

“Is this another of your warnings about the evil Steve?”

“No. This is an offer for you to review the game tape and tell me what you think of my first kiss.”

Devin chuckled low, even while she shook her head. “I’m not watching a videotape of your first kiss.”

“Why not? Maybe you could give me some pointers.”

“I’m sure your technique has changed considerably since you were… How old were you?”

“I don’t remember.” His gaze shifted to her lips, and she could tell from the glow in his gray eyes exactly what he was remembering.

She was remembering it, too.

“Lucas.” A hearty male voice interrupted the moment.

Lucas glanced to the side, while Devin tamped down the buzz of sexual awareness lighting up her body.

“Mr. Mayor.” After what felt like a brief hesitation, Lucas let go of Devin to shake the man’s hand.

“I wanted to thank you personally for your generous donation to the hospital.” The mayor’s curious glance went to Devin for a brief second.

The man was in his midfifties. His full head of distinguished gray hair topped a tall physique that he kept in shape through highly publicized biking and rowing sessions.

“Mr. Mayor, this is Devin Hartley.”

“Ms. Hartley.” The mayor took her hand and gave it a gentle shake.

Nobody acknowledged or introduced the well-groomed man standing behind and to the left of the mayor. Devin assumed he was either an aide or security.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Devin. “This is a wonderful party.”

“We have the hospital board to thank for that,” the mayor responded as he released her hand. “And we have donors like Lucas to thank for the new pediatric wing. Please, enjoy yourselves tonight. You’ll be at the ground-breaking next weekend?” he asked Lucas.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Lucas responded.

With a final nod, the mayor withdrew.

The band had started a break, and a recorded, soft rock song wafted through the speakers.

“Thirsty?” asked Lucas, stepping close, one hand going to the small of her back as the crowd made their way off the dance floor.

“Sure,” she responded, taking his lead back toward their table. “I take it you gave a big donation?” She couldn’t help wondering if her words at the barbecue had influenced Lucas on that front.

“Pacific Robotics made a big donation,” Lucas corrected. “That includes Amelia.”

Was it thousands? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? “How did you decide? I mean, how do you decide how much to donate?”

“It’s tough,” Lucas acknowledged. He flagged a passing waiter and they ordered a bottle of sparkling water. “I bet we get a dozen requests a week from worthy charitable organizations. And from scam artists, of course.”

“That many?” Devin hadn’t given any thought to that side of being in business.

They arrived back at their table. All eight of the chairs were vacant, and Lucas pulled out the one draped with Devin’s light wrap.

She sat down. “I assume you say no to most of them?”

“If you didn’t, you’d be bankrupt in a year. For better or worse, you have to pick your priorities, allocate an appropriate sum of money and hope what you’re doing helps out.”

Devin found herself admiring this side of Lucas.

“Amelia needs to learn this,” he continued, gaze going thoughtful. “This and about a million other things. I don’t want to sound patronizing, but there are complexities to running a corporation that you couldn’t possibly imagine.”

Devin tried not to bristle. “How could that possibly sound patronizing?”

He gave a hard sigh.

“Is this the latest sales pitch for you as her guardian?” Devin asked.

“This is context to help you understand why I’m doing what I’m doing. This isn’t a game, Devin. Hundreds of millions…billions of dollars are at stake. Jobs for people in five different countries. The well-being of the family.”

“I don’t think the Demarcos are doing too badly.”

“And it’s going to be partly up to Amelia to see that many more generations of Demarcos keep the corporation healthy. It’s not just about boats and sports cars. It’s about hospitals and scholarships and ordinary peoples’ livelihoods.”

“She’s nine months old, Lucas.”

He paused, and some of the intensity went out of his eyes.

The waiter arrived, opening the ornate bottle of water and pouring it into two glasses over ice.

“You’re right,” said Lucas as the man left the table. “Before she decides if animal welfare is more important than inner-city youth programs, we need to get her potty trained and teach her to use a knife and fork. Back to the nanny conversation.”

“Before the weight of the world crashes down on the poor girl’s shoulders, we need to let her have a little fun.” Devin raised her glass for a sip. “Back to the nanny conversation.”


Devin clipped the portable baby monitor into the waistband of her jeans as she pulled the door shut between Amelia’s nursery and the ensuite that connected it to her own bedroom in the mansion. She’d promised Lucas they could discuss what they’d each thought of this morning’s nanny interviews once Amelia was down for her afternoon nap.

On the way past the mirror, Devin checked her reflection. Her hair was messy from Amelia playing with it, and she had a streak of dirt across one cheek. Who knew where that had come from. And the left shoulder of her blue T-shirt was one big wet blob where Amelia had sucked on it while rocking to sleep.

Telling herself it wasn’t vanity, and it certainly wasn’t because she cared about Lucas’s opinion, it was simply good grooming, she pulled a hairbrush from the vanity drawer and dragged it through her hair. Then she gave her face a quick wash, rubbing in some moisturizer with sunscreen, in case they decided to chat on the porch.

Finally, on her way back into her own room, she grasped the bottom hem of her T-shirt to pull it-

She stumbled to a halt. “Steve?”

The man was standing in front of her bedroom window, curtain lifted with his left hand, gazing out at the ocean.

“Hi, Devin.” He turned his head.

“You startled me.”

He’d also annoyed her. What did he think he was doing lingering around her bedroom?

And he’d closed the door behind him.

Okay, that was just creepy.

“I need to talk to you.” He let the curtain drop, and his cold expression did nothing to make her feel better.