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Lucas stood from his chair and came around the desk that was positioned at one end of the rectangular room. The sliding glass doors were open to a small patio, and Byron motioned for him to pull them shut.
Now Lucas was very curious. “What did you find out?”
“You remember this?” Byron tossed a red-labeled videotape on the square meeting table that took up one corner of the room.
“Is that the one from Granddad’s will?”
Byron gave a curt nod. “Let’s just refresh your memory a tad, shall we?” He slid the tape into the old VCR that was connected to Lucas’s television set. Then he took up the remote and gestured to the chairs around the meeting table.
“Did we miss something the first time through?” asked Lucas, lowering himself into one of the charcoal-gray, sling-back leather chairs.
“It was right there under our noses the whole time.” Byron pressed a button on the remote, and a poorly lit picture came up on the screen.
It was a younger-looking Granddad, sitting in this same office, vintage railway photos on the wall in the background.
Byron fast-forwarded through part of the tape.
“Here we go,” he said, switching the video back to Play.
Granddad’s familiar, gravelly voice came through the twin speakers. “The reason for this is that you boys need to understand the difference between work and family. This great company you’ve inherited was built on a foundation of family. Your grandmothers and great-grandmothers may not have had their names on the stationery, but they played pivotal roles in the building of what is now Pacific Robotics.” His old eyes softened. “Lucy was my rock. She was there through good times and bad, through success and failure, always believing I could do the impossible. And, you boys, you need to find your own rocks.” Granddad folded his hands on the desk and leaned toward the camera. “And if leaving my estate to a future great-grandchild gives you inspiration to get out there and look, so be it. I can live with that.”
Byron clicked a button to stop the tape.
“I don’t get it,” said Lucas, tapping the tabletop in front of him. “We’ve seen this all before. What’s the point?”
“You gotta want it,” said Byron. “Look between the lines. That’s what Steve did.”
Lucas gave his head a small shake, still not following.
“Steve and his lawyers have rustled up a set of legal precedents for videotapes being used as a preamble to a will.”
Lucas gestured to the blank screen. “Granddad only reiterated that his firstborn great-grandchild inherits.”
Byron nodded. “You got that right. Your granddaddy hoped you boys would find yourselves some pretty gals, fall in love, get married and have children.”
“Yes, he did,” Lucas sighed in exasperation. It was a ridiculous way to structure an inheritance.
His grandfather should have left his shares to the person who would do the best job of managing the company. This crap about family being the rock of a man’s existence was just the ramblings of an old man. Single men could be great managers, and married men could be terrible managers. There was much more to it than marital status.
“And Steve has entered a brand-new petition that asks for this videotape to be considered the spirit of your granddaddy’s will.”
“He can do that?” As far as Lucas was concerned, the will was already settled.
“It appears as though he can,” said Byron. “It seems the court can decide to balance the letter of a will with the spirit of a will.”
“But, the shares are already in Amelia’s name.”
“It’s like an appeal.”
“He could get the will overturned?”
“He might. He’s swearing Konrad only married Monica to get the gal pregnant. That’s a clear violation of the spirit of the will. And Steve’s got a lot of lawyers hunting up precedents to back him.”
“Amelia could lose her shares? “
She could.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have a chance in hell?” “I’m told he does. And it gets worse.” Lucas paused, eyes narrowing.
“His star witness?” asked Byron. “The person who’ll get up there and testify that Konrad and Monica’s marriage was a sham? “
Lucas brought the end of his fist down on the table, rattling the water glasses as he swore out loud. Byron nodded. “Devin,” said Lucas.
“Devin,” Byron confirmed. He rose and ejected the tape from the machine, stuffing it back into its cardboard cover. “When she takes you on over custody, that lady will sit up there on that witness stand and hand Steve his evidence on a silver platter.”
Six (#ulink_f6b3cfb2-f4fc-5df3-9e84-931a7232b30f)
Devin had said yes when Lucas offered to join her on her evening jog around the grounds. She was still rattled from her encounter with Steve, and company didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
A security guard was posted in the hallway outside the nursery, and one of the housekeepers was watching the new video baby monitor. Deep down, Devin knew it was overkill. But she didn’t care. It was hard to forget the fact that Steve had simply sauntered into the mansion and into her room.
She realized he was a member of the Demarco family, so there was no reason for anyone to stop him. But Lucas assured her the staff had been instructed to announce all guests, including family members, from here on in.
They’d followed the pot-lighted mulch pathway as it wound through the grounds. In contrast to the last time they’d jogged, Lucas kept his pace easy, chatting about maintenance on his sailboat and upcoming events for the new hospital wing. Devin found herself relaxing.
They rounded the stables, where two tall chestnut horses stood near the rail.
“Do you ride?” she asked, her breathing heavy.
“Occasionally. Byron’s the family cowboy. He’s got quite the spread down there in Texas, and he’s firmly committed to the country lifestyle. I half expect him to show up with a few steers one of these days. Apparently, we have some grazing potential on the north side of the property.”
Devin took in Lucas’s jogging short and runners. “Somehow, I can’t see you riding the range.”
“What? You don’t think I’d look good in a Stetson?”
Actually, she assumed he’d look great in a Stetson. But that wasn’t something she was prepared to think about, much less talk about. “I don’t think you’d like the dust.”
“True enough,” he said, and nodded. “Give me a clean shirt, a hot babe and the Bugatti, and I’m in my element.”
“Or a set of polished clubs and a golf cart?”
“That’d work, too,” he agreed. “What about you? You golf?”
Devin shook her head. “I do not.” “You want to try?”
“Not particularly.” Of all the places she could put her leisure time and recreational resources, she couldn’t say golf had ever made it to the top of her list.
“It’s a lot of fun,” he cajoled.
“My life’s a little too busy to take up an expensive, time-consuming sport.”
“I thought you were the party girl.”
“That was your opinion. I’ve got a book deadline to meet and a baby to care for. Barbecue dinners I can do. Golf games, not so much.”
“What about swimming?” he asked, nodding as they approached the pool and the end of their run.
“Sure, I swim. I live on a lakeshore.”
“I meant right now. I’m sweltering.”
They slowed to a walk as they moved onto the pool deck. Lucas swiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead.
Devin was hot, too. And the pool looked inviting. But she had no desire to head up to the second floor and retrieve her bathing suit. When she crossed the threshold of her bedroom tonight, she’d have only one thing in mind, and that was sleep.
“No suit,” she told him, placing her hand on one of the tables for balance and stretching out a calf muscle.
“No problem.” He pulled his phone from the pocket of his shorts.
“You are not calling the staff to bring me a bathing suit.”
“Who said anything about a bathing suit?” He set the phone down on a table and stripped off his shirt, tossing it onto a lounger.
Devin couldn’t help but take in a quick glimpse of his bare chest. The man was in amazing shape.
But then he reached for the waistband of his shorts.
She pulled her leg from the stretch position and staggered back. “Whoa. Hang on there, cowboy.”
He grinned unrepentantly. “Boxers,” he assured her. “But I can dim the lights if you’re shy.”
She withdrew a few more paces. “It’s all yours. I’ll just head up to my room.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He crossed to the pool house and opened an electrical panel, flipping a couple of switches, and the pool water went dark, as did the deck area. Illumination came from discrete pot lights placed in the shrubbery and flower gardens around the perimeter of the pool.
“Come on—” he gave her a cajoling wave and moved forward in the darkness “—you must be sweltering.”
“I’m not wearing boxers,” she answered tartly, half-scandalized and half-aroused at the thought of a late night swim with Lucas.
“You naked under those shorts?” He reached for his waistband again, and she swiftly looked away. “I am not.”
“Then swim in your underwear. It’s no different than a bikini.” “Yes, it is.” “Only in your mind.”
She heard a splash, and caught him in her peripheral vision as he sliced into the deep end. His boxers flashed black before he disappeared into the dark water.
He came up, shaking his wet hair. “It’s beautiful,” he enthused. “I’ll even be a gentleman and turn around until you get in the water.”
She had to admit, the water looked incredibly tempting. It was unseasonably warm, and Devin had been hot all day, running errands around town. Amelia had been fussy, and Devin’s car’s air conditioner was dying a slow but final death.
She reached for a bottle of chilled water and took a drink, cooling her parched throat. The liquid helped, but it really didn’t do the trick. She was very tempted by the pool.
“You promise you won’t look?” she called to him.
He turned his back on her. “Don’t be paranoid.”
Devin drew a breath, glancing around at the dimly lit yard. There was no one else out here, and the house was far enough away that they wouldn’t be seen, at least not in any detail, especially with the lights out. Her peach-colored bra and panties would be indistinguishable from a bikini. It wasn’t as if they were going skinny-dipping, she told herself. And it would feel fantastic to cool off before she headed up to bed.
“Okay,” she announced, kicking off her shoes. “I’m coming in.” She quickly peeled off her sweaty T-shirt and her running shorts. She mostly trusted Lucas to keep his word, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She dove straight into the pool.
After an initial shock of cold, the water felt heavenly. She broke the surface and smoothed her hair back from her face, treading water at the opposite side of the deep end from Lucas.
“Nice?” he asked, his voice a low rumble and his face a dark silhouette against the pot lights in the distant gardens.
“Very nice,” she agreed, doing an easy front stroke down the length of the pool. She tried to pretend it was just another swim, but she was hyperaware of the darkness, her silky underwear and Lucas’s gaze following her as she swam.
The memory of their kiss battered its way into her brain. And she couldn’t seem to banish the feel of his arms around her. Maybe it was a forbidden-fruit syndrome. Or maybe she was learning all the reasons Monica had been unable to resist Konrad, despite all the evidence he was bad news.
Lucas was definitely bad news for Devin. She understood that with every fiber of her being. But it didn’t seem to stop her from wanting him. It didn’t even stop her from making stupid decisions like this little late-night swim.
Oh, those Demarco men were good.
“Devin?” It was Lucas’s deep voice, strumming along her nervous system.
“Yes?” she answered, finding her feet in the chest-deep water and resting her hand on the smooth pool wall as she turned to look at him.
He’d drifted closer then stood, water dripping down his skin. “There’s something you and I need to talk about.”
“What?” she asked warily, hoping it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that she was in her underwear and they were taking a late-night swim, or the kiss they’d shared two days ago.
But he looked serious, and not the least bit flirtatious.
Despite everything, she was forced to squelch a flash of disappointment. She warned herself to get a grip. She did not want him to flirt with her. She dreaded the idea that he might try to flirt with her.
“It’s about Steve,” he said, voice going lower as he moved closer still.
Devin’s stomach reflexively clenched with anxiety. She didn’t want to talk about Steve. She didn’t even want to think about Steve.
“Byron and I figured out his new tactic.”
Devin swallowed. “Is it bad?” Did she need to worry?
“It’s quite despicable,” said Lucas, rubbing his palm across his face to remove the errant water droplets. The beads on his skin made him look rakish and dangerous. “He’s trying to have Amelia disinherited.”
Devin focused her attention. “How do you mean? “
