New Arrivals: His Inherited Family: Billionaire Baby Dilemma / His Ring, Her Baby / Cowgirl Makes Three

“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.