Billionaire Baby Dilemma (3 page)

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.

D
evin 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.