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.
He was wearing a Savile Row suit, for pity’s sake.
Then she suddenly stopped howling. She stiffened. Her face scrunched up, and a horrible rumble emanated from her little body. The stench that filled the air nearly made him gag. He breathed shallowly, through his mouth, glancing frantically around the room for a place to put her down.
Thankfully, Devin emerged from the kitchen.
“That’s a good girl,” she cooed, shooting Lucas a glare, retrieving the baby and cuddling her close, barely flinching at the smell.
Lucas took a very large step backward, silently acknowledging Devin’s fortitude.
“Do you need a change, sweetheart?” she asked the baby.
Lucas thought fumigation might be more in order. But when Devin laid Amelia on her back on the floor and reached for a bright blue diaper bag, all he could think about was escaping.
He darted toward an open window.
“Would you like to change her?” Devin asked sweetly.
Lucas’s jaw dropped open. He could probably count on one hand the number of times in his life he’d been rendered speechless. But this was one of them.
