“No kidding,” Devin responded.

She poured herself a glass of iced tea from a pitcher that someone had placed on the table. Devin felt a twinge of guilt for letting herself be waited on by the Demarco staff. But she was thirsty, and she didn’t want to disturb Amelia.

Lexi followed suit. “Why can’t rich people be nice?” she asked as the ice cubes clinked against her glass. “If I was rich, I’d still be nice.”

“That should be my new book proposal,” Devin mused, getting another twinge of guilt when she talked about writing. She was behind on her manuscript, and her deadline was looming. “Nice and Rich,” she said, trying a title on for size. “The Art of Doing Them Both Together.” It actually wasn’t half-bad.

Lexi lifted her glass in a mock toast. “The rich truly do need your help.”

Devin grimaced. “Unfortunately, I don’t know the first thing about being rich.”

“Take a look at all this,” said Lexi, gesturing in a circle. “What better place to do your research?”

Devin rolled the idea around in her head.

She glanced from the pool to the tennis courts, the private dock and boathouse, and the humongous mansion that required a map to navigate. It didn’t get much richer than this. And the Demarcos were certainly prime examples of nasty.

Her editor would probably be a lot more forgiving of a late manuscript if she had another book idea in the hopper.

“Here he comes again,” Lexi intoned.

“Byron?” Devin resisted the urge to twist her head to see the staircase behind her.

“Lucas.” Lexi took a sip of the iced tea, leaned back and adjusted the damp towel. “You might want to start taking notes.”

Devin couldn’t help a calculating smirk as Lucas made his way across the pool deck. She wondered how he’d feel about starring in her next book.

He was still wearing his business suit and a pair of perfectly shined dress shoes, though it had to be seventy degrees this afternoon, hotter in the sunshine. His glance went to Amelia, and he seemed to realize she was sleeping.