“Then why… do you… care who wins?”
He shrugged, allowing a sheepish grin. “It was fun watching you try.”
“Rat.”
“Guilty.” His eyes darkened. “You might want to remember that.”
The mansion was closer now. The pool deck a beacon spurring her burning leg muscles forward.
Why, oh, why had she waited for him? She should have set off jogging by herself, done her usual two miles, and been in the shower by now, maybe even in bed, asleep, catching a few precious hours before Amelia woke up, and she started all over again.
Her days were beyond hectic. It had been weeks since she got any decent amount of writing accomplished. Her new self-help book on setting priorities, Snarled Traffic in the Information Age, was due to her publisher in three months. And she had eight more chapters to go.
Her feet pounded on the bark mulch.
A hundred yards to go.
Fifty.
Twenty-five. Thank goodness.
She slowed to a walk, gulping air, keeping well away from Lucas in the hope that he wouldn’t see how winded she’d become.
He’d slowed his run, taken it down to a jog, coming to a walk when his feet hit the concrete deck.
Devin took her time joining him, feeling a rush of relief when her lungs slowed back to normal. Her legs were still rubbery, but it was much easier to hide that weakness.
As she approached Lucas, he tossed her a chilled water bottle. She caught it in midair. Obviously someone had set them out while they were away running. What a life the man led.
Devin cracked the seal and took a long, satisfying drink. Her heart rate was getting back to normal, but she knew she’d have some very sore muscles in the morning. She’d give her eyeteeth for a miracle where Amelia slept until seven.
Lucas flopped down on a lounger, gesturing to a low table between it and another identical chair. “Care for some fruit?”
Devin realized she was famished, and the fruit platter looked delicious. The temptation to rest her weary legs was too much to resist. She took the other lounger and stretched out.
Lucas popped a grape into his mouth and munched. “You have everything you need in the nursery?”
Devin selected a slice of pineapple. “It’s a dream nursery.”
It was.
From the custom-made crib to the designer sheets, to a rocking chair she could practically live in, to a state-of-the-art baby monitor, paintings, mobiles, curtains and the thickest white carpet she’d ever stepped on, Amelia might as well have been a princess.
Devin nibbled the edge of the pineapple. “You must have been pretty confident you’d need it.”
“I was.” He turned his head to watch her. “I am.” He paused. “You should really give up now.”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “Why not. Who needs the grief, anyway? All those lawyers, a court date, fighting you—and you’re clearly a superior human being. I might as well just call it quits.” She popped the rest of the pineapple into her mouth.
He grinned, and plunked his head back on the lounger, closing his eyes. “Ah, Devin. You’re entertaining. I’ll give you that much.”
She sucked the pineapple juice from her fingertips and tried to stay angry with Lucas. It seemed like too much of an effort. “Okay if we use the pool tomorrow?”
Living on a lakeshore, Devin had already decided to get Amelia accustomed to the water as early as possible. She might as well make the best of being a prisoner at the Demarcos.
“Do anything you want,” Lucas answered without opening his eyes. “I’ll make sure the staff all know who you are. The cooks will help you with breakfast, or you can feel free to make whatever you want. Give them a list of foods for Amelia, or yourself for that matter. Try out the horses, take out a boat, swim, play tennis—”
“Amelia’s a little young for tennis.”
“I meant you. There’s an army of people here who can babysit.”
“Teresa is listening to the baby monitor right now,” Devin said.
It felt supremely self-indulgent to take advantage of the Demarco staff, but without Lexi next door, Devin knew she’d need at least occasional help. Hopefully, the times would be few and far between. She’d needed to tire herself out before bed tonight, but she certainly wouldn’t be abandoning Amelia to take tennis lessons.
“I’d like to spend some time with Amelia,” said Lucas.
His statement caught Devin’s attention. “Why?”
Lucas opened his eyes and turned. “She’s my niece.”
“You’re afraid of her.”
“I am not,” he denied. “Okay, I’m a little afraid of the slimy bits.”
Devin fought a smirk. “The slimy bits are what make her a baby.”
“I prefer clean, dry babies.”
“Those are called adults.”
Lucas frowned. “I want her to get to know me.”
“I know. So I won’t have an advantage over you in court.” She shook her head and gave a dry chuckle. “She’s not a puppy, Lucas. We’re not going to put her down between us and see who she runs to.”
Lucas’s eyes hardened, but he didn’t answer.
She helped herself to a slice of kiwi. “But how very Machiavellian of you to think that way.”
“She’s Konrad’s daughter.” All traces of humor and friendliness were gone from his voice.
“And a ten-percent shareholder of Pacific Robotics. I understand completely.”
His jaw tightened, and a muscle ticked next to his eye. “You haven’t a clue.”
Oh, but she did.
While he might occasionally appear to let his guard down, Lucas was single-minded in his objective. And that objective was Amelia. And Devin was the only protection the little girl had.
Amelia kicked her tiny feet and gurgled happily in the Demarcos’ pool the following afternoon. She looked darling in a red-and-white striped bathing suit, and she’d taken immediately to splashing and ducking.
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