It was less than two months until the hearing for permanent guardianship of Amelia, but for some reason Lucas Demarco had suddenly decided he wanted temporary custody. His lawyers had sent a threatening letter, forcing Devin into court next week.

“You know why he’s doing it.” Lexi arched a brow as she shook out a yellow flannel, baby blanket and folded it in half.

“Yes, I do.”

“To get close to Amelia.”

Devin nodded her agreement. “It’s my big advantage over him at the moment.”

“Good luck to him, I say.” Lexi stacked the blanket on top of three others on the back of the sofa. “He’s hardly daddy material.”

Lexi had only met Lucas once, at Monica’s wedding. But they’d both read stories about his exploits as a cold-blooded businessman and a sexy, jet-setting bachelor. It was obvious to anyone with a brain that Lucas was only interested in Amelia because the baby girl had inherited shares in Pacific Robotics. And controlling her would give Lucas fifty-five percent of the company, so his decisions would be final.

Most of the time, Devin was confident that any judge would see right through his scheme. But every once in a while, in the middle of night when her confidence was low and life seemed overwhelming, Devin feared Lucas might actually win the case and take Amelia away.

As Lexi headed for the kitchen, Devin shook off the fear. She snagged the last of the baby dolls, straightened a stack of magazines and pulled the rolling ottoman back into its place.

A knock sounded on the door that was tucked in a foyer at the back of the living room.

Lexi peeked around the kitchen wall, brows going up in surprise. Nobody knocked on Devin’s door. In the close-knit community of Lake Westmire, people usually crossed to the front deck, opened the glass slider and walked in. If they wanted to be formal, they might call out before entering.

Feeling slightly self-conscious in her faded T-shirt, worn blue jeans and bare feet, Devin made her way to the back of the house. She took a glance through the small, rectangular window and vaguely recognized the man standing on the porch. She opened the door halfway and tried to pinpoint what was familiar about him.

He was about five foot eight, with medium-length, reddish blond hair. He wore a dark suit with a pale blue, accent-striped shirt and a navy tie. He looked to be in his midthirties, although his round face gave him a perpetual boyish look. And the light-colored eyebrows didn’t help.

“Can I help you?” She kept her voice low so she wouldn’t disturb Amelia.

The man stuck out his hand and offered a friendly, salesman-like smile. “Steve Foster. We met at Konrad and Monica’s wedding.” The smile promptly disappeared. “Allow me to express my condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Devin automatically responded, taking his hand while clicking through her memory for his face.

Then she got it. Right. Steve Foster. He was Konrad’s cousin. She drew back her hand and pressed her lips together.

“I’m sorry for your loss, too,” she responded, although she held the entire Demarco family partially responsible for her sister’s death. If they all hadn’t been so greedy and distrustful, they wouldn’t have panicked over Amelia’s shares. Konrad wouldn’t have been so desperate to win Monica back, and Monica never would have got on the plane that night.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he continued affably.

“Is there something you need?” Her tone had cooled, and she could hear Lexi in the living room behind her, moving in closer, presumably to take stock of the situation.

“I came to apologize,” he offered. “On behalf of my family. I understand Lucas has been harassing you.”

Devin didn’t know what to say to that. Lucas was the current bane of her existence. But she wasn’t exactly sure what Steve was apologizing for, nor what he meant by “harassing.”

The kettle squealed behind her, and Lexi’s footsteps swiftly disappeared into the kitchen.

“I only just learned about the temporary guardianship hearing.”

Well, that answered one question.

But she still didn’t know why he was here.

Steve cleared his throat. “Would you mind terribly if I…” He gestured inside her house. “I have an offer for you.”

“I’m not interested,” said Devin. She didn’t trust any of the Demarcos, or the Fosters, particularly when they were pretending to be nice.

“I’d like to make up for Lucas’s actions.”

Devin canted her head to one side, attempting to judge the expression in his pale blue eyes. “Why?” she challenged.

He appeared contrite and guileless. “Because he’s treating you badly. He’s got five very expensive lawyers on the case. I know these guys and, quite frankly, Devin, you don’t stand a chance.”

A cold fear hit the pit of Devin’s stomach. Added to it was a rush of suspicion. There was no reason in the world for Steve to warn her about Lucas. The Demarco family wanted Amelia, and Steve was one of them.

“What do you want?” she demanded, assuming he was up to no good.

“I just told you.” He met her gaze straight on, without so much as a blink. If this was an act, he was very good.

She allowed for the slim possibility that he was being honest. “Why would you care?”

Devin heard Lexi come closer behind her. It warmed Devin’s heart to know Lexi was on her side. Not that Lexi was a lawyer, and not that Lexi was in any better position than Devin to hire an expensive law firm.

“I care, because I’m a decent human being. And I’m doing more than just warning you. I’m here to offer you the services of a first-class law firm. I have Bernard and Botlow on retainer, and you’re welcome to use them for the hearing next week. Free of charge, of course.”

Devin blinked at the man.

Lexi pulled the door wider. “What’s the catch?”

Steve saw Lexi, and his expression faltered for a split second. “Hello. And you are?”

“I’m a friend of Devin’s.”

He turned his attention back to Devin. “Do you mind if I come in for a moment?”

“The baby’s asleep,” she told him.

“I’ll be very quiet.” He waited, then he looked to Lexi. “I’m here to offer legal services, nothing more. You can check out the law firm, check out the lawyers. They have an excellent reputation, and I won’t be in any way remotely involved in the case.”

He looked back at Devin. “My cousin is treating you unfairly. He’s stacked the deck in his favor, and I want to level the playing field.”

Devin didn’t like to think about Steve’s cousin Lucas. He was a Demarco through and through. And that meant he was devastatingly handsome, sexy, self-assured and powerful. The combination should have been annoying. It was annoying. But it was also arousing in a knee-jerk, anthropological sort of way, and Devin found herself having to guard against a sexual attraction to the man who was growing more aggravating by the day. She thought about her overworked, sole proprietor lawyer down on Beach Drive. Hannah was wonderful. She was bright and hardworking, and she’d cut her fees considerably for Devin. But she wasn’t a family law specialist.

“You can always say no to me inside,” Steve offered reasonably.

Devin glanced at Lexi. The woman gave a nearly imperceptible shrug, and Devin decided to take a chance. After all, Steve was right about one thing. She could say no to him in her living room as well as she could say it on the porch. There seemed little risk in listening to what he had to say.


Lucas knew that LoJacking Steve’s car brought him dangerously close to the line ethics-wise. But when the device went still for half an hour out at Lake Westmire, he knew his suspicions were confirmed and his actions justified.

He left the mansion through the front foyer, crossing the driveway turnaround to the garage that housed his jet-black Bugatti.

He cut the hour-long drive down to forty minutes, passing the blip that signaled Steve’s Porsche coming the other way along the interstate south of Seattle. His GPS took him down the winding, beachfront road of Lake Westmire, unerringly to a gravel driveway behind a compact, white cottage that obviously fronted on the lake.

He yanked the parking brake, killed the engine and exited the low-slung vehicle.

The staircase was short, and it brought him to a narrow wraparound deck that most likely led to a veranda overlooking the lake. Facing the road, there was a painted, blue door. He knocked.

After a few minutes, Devin peeped through the small window, frowning before she opened the door to him.

“Lucas?” She glanced both ways, checking for what, he didn’t know, but obviously puzzled by his presence.

“What did he want?” Lucas asked without preamble, hoping a strong offense would put her off balance. “Excuse me?”

“Steve,” Lucas continued, taking advantage of the small opening she’d left between her body and the entry wall to barrel inside.

She took a reflexive step backward, the action opening the door wider. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Lucas turned and braced himself against the painted, yellow wall in the small entry, leaving eighteen inches or so between them. He was disappointed that she’d lie outright. Then again, what did he know about her?

“Steve was here,” he stated.

She didn’t answer.

“Is that the way you want to play this?” he persisted. “Are you going to look me square in the eyes and lie?”

Her expression faltered for a second, but she blinked her long lashes over her deep blue eyes, camouflaging her feelings. “What are you doing here?”

“Tell me what he wanted. Did he plead his case? Try to make a deal?” If Lucas understood Steve’s tactics, he’d be in a better position to counteract them.

“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.