“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.