New Arrivals: His Inherited Family. Barbara Dunlop

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      Devin set her cup firmly down into the saucer. “I expect a good nanny to spend plenty of time playing with Amelia.”

      “And I expect a good nanny to know her way around a changing table.”

      “You need to get over that, Lucas.” “I am over it.” He pointedly went back to reading. “Sure you are,” Devin muttered.

      Well, he could be forgiven his frustration. Amelia had looked fairly sweet and harmless while she slept on Devin’s lap. It had seemed like a perfect chance for him to stick his toe in the water of uncle-hood. How was he to know the baby was effectively booby-trapped?

      But Devin had known.

      He strongly suspected she’d set him up. But it would take more than that to dissuade him from bonding with Amelia. He’d already started reading a couple of how-to books. He’d master baby-raising or die trying.

      He refocused his attention on the résumé in front of him. “It says she’s orderly, organized and—within her standard routine template—will customize a schedule that fits our lifestyle.”

      “Standard routine template?” Devin’s tone was incredulous.

      He glanced at her again. “What?”

      “There’s no standard routine template for raising babies. All babies are unique.”

      “I’m sure she means meals and naps and walks and things.”

      “Babies should sleep when they’re tired and eat when they’re hungry.”

      Lucas blinked. That sounded an awful lot like chaos to him. “Are you joking? “

      “Absolutely not. Routines ought to be child-led for the first few years.”

      He paused, squinting at her. “You’re messing with me, right?”

      She whisked the résumé out of his hand and put it facedown on the table. “Next.”

      “Put the baby in charge? Good grief, Devin. It’s a baby.”

      She took the next résumé from the pile. “Early childhood certificate from Boise College.” “Idaho?”

      “‘Within broad boundaries, will create a positive, nurturing environment that respects the individuality and creativity of each child.’”

      “Is that code for raising spoiled, ill-mannered hooligans?” “I think it’s code for kindness and compassion.” Lucas snagged the résumé from her hand and put it facedown with the other. “Next.” “Hey!”

      “You get a veto? Then so do I.” Devin compressed her lips.

      “You want to split the pile?” he asked. Maybe they could narrow it down a little by swapping their acceptable choices. “Can we do it tomorrow?”

      Lucas glanced at his watch. Nine-thirty. “What’s wrong with now?” He didn’t believe in procrastination. When a job needed to get done, you did it.

      “I’m a little tired.”

      He couldn’t help a reflexive eye-roll. “From swimming in the pool and lounging in the sun? “

      She retrieved the laptop case from the chair beside her and slid open the zipper. “Those iced-tea glasses were awfully heavy.”

      Her joke caught him off guard. He’d expected a snappy, if not angry retort to his jab.

      “I’d like to get this over with,” he explained.

      “Look.” She sighed. “It may seem early to you, but I’ve had approximately six hours sleep a night, in two or three separate segments, for the past three months. I’m tired.” She gestured to the laptop. “I have a deadline. I’d like to take a quick run, have a quick bath and try my best to rejuvenate my brain cells before Amelia wakes up again.”

      Devin stuffed the laptop inside the case, zipped it up and came to her feet. He stood with her. The light from the chandelier caught her face, and for the first time he noticed dark circles under her eyes.

      Up until now, he’d been distracted by the sapphire-blue of her irises. They glowed when she smiled at Amelia, flared when she was angry and turned crystal clear when her brain was working on a problem or coming up with a clever retort to something he’d said.

      Right now, they seemed faded, like a misty sky on a southern summer day.

      “You okay?” he automatically asked.

      She tipped her head, gazing up at him. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

      “You sure you want to run?” He thought about offering to accompany her again. But he’d been a bit of a cad last time. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was trying to prove. The fact that he had longer, more muscular legs perhaps?

      “I’m sure,” she answered.

      “You know,” he couldn’t help but point out, “the sooner we find a nanny, the sooner you can get some more sleep.”

      She closed her eyes for a split second, her shoulders seeming to droop. He had to check the urge to reach out and steady her.

      “I was wrong when I said you were controlling,” she told him.

      Progress? He felt hope rise.

      “You’re not controlling. You are excruciatingly goal-oriented.”

      She made it sound like a flaw.

      “It only comes across as controlling,” she continued, “because you try to drag the rest of the world along with you.”

      “Sometimes the world needs a little dragging.”

      Take Devin. She could get an extra hour of sleep tonight, or she could agree with him on a nanny and get extra sleep from here on in. It was a no-brainer to Lucas.

      “Sometimes you have to stop and smell the roses,” she told him.

      “They don’t bloom until July,” he pointed out.

      Devin cracked a small smile at that, even as she shook her head. Then she reached for her laptop case, and Lucas automatically reached out to lift it for her, brushing her shoulder with his forearm as he leaned around her.

      The touch was electric, and he reflexively jerked away. The action brought the front of his thigh against the side of hers, and sexual energy jump-started his body.

      What was the matter with him?

      Sure, she was a gorgeous woman. But he’d been careful to keep that in perspective. He had no call, no business, no right to think of her as anything other than an obstruction. He wanted Amelia, and Devin was in his way. Wanting Devin was nowhere in the plan.

      He sucked in a breath, lifting her laptop, drawing away. Wanting Devin? No way. Not going there. Not ever.

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