“Lucas?” Devin prompted.

“I don’t expect it to be necessary,” he said, answering her question. There was a very good reason why nannies were invented.

“There’s a girl,” Devin cooed, and Lucas dared to look back to where Amelia stood on chubby bare feet, hand grasping Devin’s hair for balance.

Devin tucked away the change pad and handed Amelia a bottle of juice. The baby promptly plunked down on her fresh diaper and popped the bottle in her mouth.

“Why do you want custody?” Devin asked, coming to her feet, brushing her palms across her backside and finger-combing her hair where Amelia had mussed it. Her T-shirt was wrinkled, and several damp spots dotted its front. It was no wonder she went for plain, serviceable clothing. He could only imagine the havoc Amelia would wreak on linen and silk.

Still, the plain clothing couldn’t hide her gorgeous figure. She was short, maybe five-five. And the absence of heels made her seem even shorter. But her legs were lithe and toned, her waist nipped in and breasts rounded and in perfect proportion to everything else.

He didn’t know what she did for exercise, but it was working.

“You don’t seem particularly interested in Amelia,” Devin continued.

“She’s a Demarco.”

“So?”

“So, I have a responsibility-”

“Can’t you at least be honest?”

“I am being honest.” He owed it to his brother to keep Amelia safe. If Lucas had died with a daughter in such a vulnerable position, he’d expect no less of Konrad.

“You want her ten percent of Pacific Robotics, Lucas, controlling interest. You don’t give one whit about Amelia as a person.”

“You’re dead wrong about that.”