Julia had no idea what Madeline had painted on the second sheet of paper. It was a lot like the first one, a mixture of browns and crimsons mingled in with what reminded her of a flesh tone. There was another set of eyes. Just like with the first one.

Julia was no artist and she often didn’t get the artistic value of most artwork, but the floating eyeballs were a little creepy.

Smothering a yawn, she rose from the stool. “Be right back.”

Madeline didn’t respond as Julia picked up the pan and cleaning supplies she’d used earlier. Carrying the items into the bathroom, she set about washing the pan out. Once clean, she placed it down in the tub to dry out. The towels went into a small hamper by the door. Another yawn crept up her throat as she wiped down the bathroom counter.

She’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep last night. She hadn’t heard any mysterious footsteps, thank the Lord. Her brain just wouldn’t shut down after everything that had happened yesterday—hell, the last couple of days.

Her hand stilled, causing the damp cloth to bunch under her palm as she glanced out into the bedroom. What could’ve been the source of the footsteps the night before last? It had to be one of the other brothers or maybe her imagination, but it couldn’t be what Lucian suggested. Ghosts? That was just . . . insane. As ridiculous as Lucian himself.

Though, he did make a great cup of tea.

She’d probably needed that last night.

When she wasn’t thinking about the weird footsteps, she was turning over everything the cousin Daniel had said and how Madeline reacted to him. She really hoped that Lucian would consider allowing him to visit despite their issues.

It couldn’t hurt.

Daniel wasn’t the only thing she’d lain awake thinking about. That damn infuriating grin of Lucian’s was firmly implanted in her head until she finally fell asleep.

He was . . . sweet Jesus, he was a handful and a half. She could easily understand how many women would toss common sense right out the window, along with their panties, when it came to him.

She almost had last night on the porch, outside of Madeline’s room. Her body had practically gone haywire on her. She had been seconds away from closing her eyes and tilting her head back just far enough to allow him to kiss her.

Absolutely ridiculous.

She knew better than to even allow herself to be wooed into that position where she had been seriously considering being all kinds of reckless. He just had that . . . that way about him.

But there was something else she saw in him yesterday. In the short period of time that she’d known Lucian, he gave off this laid-back persona, a rich playboy without a care in the world except for his sister. He was charming and downright devious in his teasing. He was a silver-tongued devil when it came to words, but she saw the crack in the façade. She’d seen the shadows lingering behind the smooth words and easy grin.

He was stressed out, and who could blame him for that? No matter how comfy this man’s life had been, he was dealing with a lot of stuff, and that caretaker part of her, the almost idiotic need to offer comfort, had wanted to seek him out last night and do just that.

And that’s why she basically face-planted the pillow all night.

Sighing, she draped the small towel out over the faucet and then walked back into the room. She sat in the chair beside the bed, chewing on her lip as she scanned Madeline. The woman was intently focused on her painting. This morning, Julia did a check. No fever. Her pulse was a little slow and her blood pressure was low, but that could be normal for her or a byproduct of lack of movement, but other than that? There were no signs of severe underlying health issues. Atrophy hadn’t begun to set into her muscles. Her skin wasn’t sallow or ruddy, just pale.

Julia leaned forward, plopping her elbow on her knee and resting her chin on her palm. “What happened to you?”

There was no answer.

The woman’s gaze was fixed on her painting. What did she know about Madeline? She was rebellious as a child and teen. Was super close to her twin until they became teens, becoming closer to her cousin Daniel. Madeline obviously wasn’t close to her other brothers, not before her disappearance or when she returned. She’d disappeared the same night her mother had died. That was nearly ten years ago. Had the death affected her so severely that it made her vulnerable to some predator? Or had the death triggered a hidden mental illness? From what Lucian had said the night he told her about his family, it sounded like there was a thread of mental illness in the family, and in a lot of the cases, certain diseases could be hereditary. It could be a mix of both things.

But someone had to have taken care of her while she’d been missing. That didn’t mean they weren’t also taking advantage of her. So who had her? How did she escape? Or had she?

So many questions.

Her phone rang, jarring her out of her thoughts. Thinking it was Anna since her friend had texted last night saying she’d call today, she rose and walked over to where her phone was. She picked it up, and her stomach sank.

Pressure clamped down on her chest when she saw the area code and exchange. It was familiar, too familiar, and definitely not Anna’s, whose number was saved. Turning to the porch doors, she hit the button to send the call to voice mail. She stood there for several moments, hoping her suspicions weren’t correct. Because there was no way they could be. She’d finally changed her number after the last time he’d called. Her parents wouldn’t have given it to him.

Only a handful of moments later, a text came through and it was just four words. Four words she didn’t want to see.

“Damn it,” she muttered. Closing her eyes, she squeezed the phone tight until her knuckles ached. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Someone had given him the number or somehow he’d figured it out, which wasn’t surprising considering what he did for a living. He likely now knew she was no longer in Pennsylvania.

There was no way she was responding.

But did not responding help matters? Avoiding him in the past never really seemed to work. Not long-term. But why did she even have to deal with this? Not a single part of her wanted to.

Opening her eyes, she quickly deleted the text and started to put the phone down when it rang again, from the same number as before.

Adam.

“Jesus,” she muttered, silencing the call again. This was not happening—

“Is everything okay?”

Yelping at the close sound of Lucian’s voice, she spun around and gasped. He was only a few feet behind her. Holy crap, how could he not make a sound when he was that big?

Her gaze roamed over him.

And how could he look so good when he’d obviously just showered? His hair was damp and a darker shade than when it was dry. The light gray cotton shirt he wore clung to his chest and lower abs, hinting at the taut muscles below. It appeared as if he had taken a shower, grown bored with drying off and pulled on clothes, then came straight up here.

“Oh my God,” she said. “Are you part ghost?”

“Maybe.” He was staring at the phone she held, brows furrowed together. “Is everything okay?” he repeated.

“Yes.” She brought the phone to her chest, screen down. Her heart thudded unevenly. “Of course.”

“You sure of that?”

Julia forced a light laugh. “Why would I—”

The phone rang again, the sound muffled only a little by her breasts. It was official. God hated her.

He raised a brow. “You going to answer that?”

Pressing her lips together, she shook her head as she slid her finger along the side and silenced the call. While she was at it, she turned the ringer off.

“And why not?”

“I’m working, which means I shouldn’t be on the phone.”

Lucian tilted his head to the side. “You’re allowed to answer the phone and talk on it.”

Of course she was, but that really wasn’t the point.

His gaze flicked up and moved over her face. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to answer the phone?”

She didn’t know what exactly caused her to snap back. Maybe it was the fact that Adam somehow had gotten her phone number. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. She had no idea. “I really don’t think that’s any of your business.”

One side of his lips kicked up. “Hmm . . . Now that response makes me think there really is a reason why you don’t want to answer the phone.”

“Whether there’s a reason or not, it doesn’t matter.” Keeping the phone in her hand, she folded her arms. Her chin lifted.

“I like the outfit by the way.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Why do you keep saying that? They’re just scrubs.”

“But there are a lot of things to like about them.”

Julia decided to ignore that. “Is there something I can help you with?”

His chin dipped and she knew immediately that was the wrong thing to ask. “There is a lot you can help me with.”

Julia rolled her eyes despite the way her stomach did a pleasant little drop. “Let me rephrase that. Is there anything I’d be willing to help you out with?”

“Oh, Ms. Hughes.” His voice was a low, sensual drawl. “You’d be willing.”

Her lips parted as her body flashed hot, really hot, and then cold. “Is there literally anything you can’t make sound sexual?”

“No. It’s like a superpower of mine.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Lucian smiled.

Impatience warred with reluctant amusement. “Do you not have a job to go to or something?”

“Does living a life of debauchery count as a job?” His grin turned devilish. “Because if so, I deserve a pay raise.”

“No.” She sighed. “No, it doesn’t.”

Chuckling low, he turned toward his sister. “How is Maddie doing?”

Relieved by the change in subject, she twisted at the waist. “She’s doing okay. Been painting all morning.”

He walked over to where his sister sat. Speaking to her in a voice too low for Julia to hear, she stayed back until he said, “Since you’ve had a lot of experience working with patients like this, is her improvement . . . normal?”

Pushing the call aside to dwell over later, she walked to the foot of the bed as she mulled how to answer this question when she herself had been thinking the same thing. “I’ve had patients who were comatose and others with very limited functions. Some showed signs of improvement and interest in hobbies they used to be involved in, but none . . . as quick as this.”

Lucian glanced over. “You mean you haven’t worked with someone who seems to have no medical reason for why they are the way they are or why they can do something like paint but not speak?”

Not wanting to lie, she nodded as she reached down, straightening the blanket at the foot of the bed. She could feel his stare.

“She’s not faking this.”

Her chin jerked up and she found his stare. “I’m not suggesting that.”

His jaw was hard as he said nothing.

“To fake something like this would be extremely difficult. Trust me. I don’t think that at all.”

Lucian held her gaze for a moment and then returned to his sister.

“Has . . . someone suggested that she is?” she asked.

He didn’t answer for a moment. “I think my brothers suspect it’s not as it appears.”

Her gaze bounced back to Madeline’s face. There wasn’t a flicker of change in her expression. A wealth of sympathy for her welled inside her. “Do they have a reason to think that?”

Lucian was quiet again for so long, she looked over at him. He shrugged then. “Like I’ve said before, they weren’t close to her.” He paused, brushing hair back from Madeline’s face. “A lot of it had to do with our father. I really think that he really didn’t want to have any more children beyond Dev and Gabe.”

She wanted to tell him that couldn’t be true to make him feel better, but what she’d heard about the elder de Vincent told her that those words wouldn’t work. Lucian knew better. “Did he . . . did he not pay a lot of attention to you and Madeline?”

He smirked as he dropped his hand. “Let’s just say that the only time he did pay attention to us we wished he hadn’t. Our mother . . .”

“What about her?” she asked when he hadn’t continued.

“She . . . tried to make up for it.” The wry twist of his lip faded. “She really tried, which sometimes created another problem.”

“How so?”

“Making up for our father created problems between her and Dev and Gabe. It was almost like no one could ever do enough, you know?” he said almost to himself. “Every step forward for one of us was two steps back for another. Anyway, there was another reason why I came up here,” he said.

She figured it was to spend time with his sister. “If you would like some alone time, I can—”

“Actually I came to see you.” He faced her and the seriousness was gone from his face. That teasing grin was back almost as if he hadn’t just been talking about his family. “Have you had a lunch yet?”

She’d gotten some lunch in Madeline, but she hadn’t sat down to eat yet.

“Don’t lie,” he said. “Because I have on good authority that you hadn’t.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Because it seemed like the polite thing to do.”

Crossing her arms once more, she smiled wryly. “I thought you didn’t do polite things.”

“I’m making an effort for you.”

She stared at him. “Am I really supposed to believe that?”

His eyes glimmered. “I hope so.”

“I don’t.”

“I didn’t say I believe so,” he clarified with a grin. “But it’s kind of a moot point.”

“How so?”

“Because I already had Livie make us a lunch.”

Her jaw practically hit the floor.

“And Richard has actually set up this nice little place for us to eat outside in the rose garden since it’s nice outside, so if you say no, then you’ve made Livie and Richard go to all this work for nothing. Plus, Livie is on her way up to sit with Maddie so you can take a break.”

For a good ten seconds, she couldn’t even formulate a complete sentence. “You are . . . you are . . .”

“Incredibly sexy? Hot. Stunning,” he suggested. “Extremely clever? No. Wait.” He held up a hand. “I got it. I’m irresistible and irreplaceable.”

Her lips twitched. “More like reprehensible and manipulative.”

“Those are my less charming qualities, but they are effective, aren’t they?” That damn grin spread. “Because you aren’t going to say no. You know why?”

“Because you’ve manipulated me into saying yes?”

“Well, besides that, I had Livie make her famous homemade beignets and they’ll put all others to shame.”

Damn it all to hell.

There was no way she could say no to that.

And, of course, he’d known that.

The air had been warm and the house had offered enough shade to make the time spent outside bearable. In about a month, no amount of shade would push back the oppressive humidity.

Though Lucian would bear the sticky air if it meant he was spending time with his nurse.

Even though Julia looked like she’d rather walk through a swamp barefoot than join him, he was pleased with himself, especially when the expression of awe had replaced the one of irritation when she got her first good view at the rose garden.

It was a bit wild. Roses and vines grew over the pathway and consumed the multiple trellises to the point you couldn’t even see them or the wrought-iron fence that closed the garden in. Probably in a few years, the roses would cover the bistro table and chairs, but he refused to allow anyone to touch them.

The garden was the way his mother liked it.

And based on the way Julia had to touch every petal and leaf on the way to the table, he had a feeling she liked it the way it was too.

He peppered her with questions, undaunted when she was evasive. As they ate lunch, he discovered that she hadn’t traveled widely and that she’d been thinking about getting a cat before she took this job. He found out that she hadn’t been to a movie theater in three years, and he ended up explaining that it was almost impossible to eat a beignet without getting sugar all over yourself.

With each question she answered, he could tell he got through one chink in her armor and she relaxed a little, not sitting so stiffly in her chair or squirming nervously. And each time one of those chinks broke apart, he was reminded of the night in the bar, before she had an idea of who he was.

Her hair was up again, smoothed back from her face and twisted into a knot. He wanted to reach across the table and pluck the pins from her hair, letting it fall through his fingers.

He doubted she’d appreciate that, though.

“So.” He sat back, a glass of sweet tea in his hand as he came up with another question he was dying to hear the answer to. “Have you been married before?”

Her glass of tea froze halfway to her mouth. A shadow flickered across her face. He didn’t miss it or the way she tensed all over again. “I . . . I was married.”

Surprised she actually answered, he stilled. “Divorced?”

She nodded.

“What happened?”

Her gaze flicked to the deep pink roses. “That’s really not something I think we need to get into.” She started to place her glass down. “And I need to—”

“Run off,” he suggested.

Her jaw fixed into a stubborn line. Cute. “Actually, I need to get to work, unlike some.”

Lucian chuckled. If she only knew. “We’ve only been gone about thirty minutes. Most people get an hour lunch. We have time left.”

Julia stared at him, those dark brown brows furrowed together. “Why?” Putting her glass down, she held his gaze. “Why do you want to spend time with me and know all this stuff about me?”

He wasn’t sure what to make of that question. “Is it so hard for you to believe that I’d be interested in spending time with you? Or getting to know you?”

She glanced around. “Uh, yes. Yes, it is.”

“Okay.” He leaned forward, not breaking her stare. “It’s clear you’re not getting it. I’m interested in you, in getting to know you, and in getting to spend time with you. And if you ask me why, I really can’t answer that. I don’t know. It just is.”

Lucian paused, making sure she was hearing him. “And I know you think it’s because I’m bored. I’m not. Trust me. If I want to find something or someone to occupy my time with, the options are literally unlimited. And I know you think it’s because I want to fuck you. That is true. I do. Obviously.”

Her eyes widened as she sucked in a sharp, audible breath.

“I’m not going to lie about that. I lay in bed for hours just thinking about exactly what I’d like to do to you,” he continued. “It is strange, though. The fact I actually want to fuck you and get to know you. Those two things are usually not accompanying one another.”

“Wow,” she said. “Just wow.”

Lucian shrugged a shoulder. “Hey, it is a surprise to me, but doesn’t change what I want.”

The centers of her cheeks flushed pink as she sat back in her seat. Those lush lips were parted. He could tell she had no idea how to respond. And he hadn’t been messing with her. He was a hundred percent honest.

“I . . . I don’t even know what to say to you,” she said, and there was a stark truthfulness to her words. “Like at all.”

The sudden tapping of heels on stone snapped his mouth shut. Lucian drew back and lifted his gaze just as Dev’s fiancée appeared on the back patio.

Aw hell.

If there was one surefire way to kill the mood, it was her making an appearance.

The heiress to the Harrington Shipping empire strode across the stone, her knee-length black dress a stark contrast against her icy blond hair and pale skin.

Julia twisted in her seat, following his gaze. “Oh my . . .”

“That’s Dev’s fiancée.” He sighed.

“I’ve seen her before.” Julia immediately twisted toward him. Excitement glimmered in her eyes. “In magazines.”

Lucian didn’t like her eagerness. Sabrina was . . . well, what was inside that woman wasn’t as pretty or well packaged as her outside.

“Really?” Sabrina stopped at the edge of the patio, her blood red lips thinning. Dark glasses shielded her eyes and a purse that probably weighed half her weight dangled from a slim wrist. “Are you having lunch with the help now, Lucian?”

“Careful,” he warned while Julia stiffened in her chair. “I don’t have to play nice with you.”

“Last I checked I don’t have to place nice with you either.” Her head cocked to the side, and not a single strand of hair slipped out of whatever she had going on with the updo. “And who are you?”

“My name’s Julia.” She glanced at Lucian.

“She knows about Maddie,” he assured her.

“You’re the nurse?” Sabrina said and then gave a short laugh. “Okay, then.”

“Wow,” Julia muttered under her breath.

“I’m looking for Devlin.” Sabrina angled her body in his direction. “Do you know where he is?”

Like she really thought Dev would be outside in the rose garden of all places. Knowing Sabrina, she’d caught sight of Julia from inside and had come to investigate. “Does it look like I know where he’d be?”

Those garish red lips pursed. “Well, I was hoping you’d be useful for once.”

“Damn,” Julia murmured.

“Honey, I’m just not useful in the way you want.” He smirked when her nostrils flared. “But as I’m sure you can see, you’re interrupting and—”

Gabe appeared on the garden’s pathway, having come from the other entrance. His brother drew up short.

Well, Lucian was wrong.

More like Sabrina had seen Gabe try to duck outside and had followed, looking for him.

“Gabe, what a pleasant surprise.” Sabrina’s tone changed as her hand floated to the diamond necklace around her throat, fingers tangling in the chain.

His brother winced. “Hello, Sabrina.” Then he nodded at Julia and smiled. “How are you, Julia?”

“Fine. I was just finishing up lunch.” She plucked the napkin out of her lap. “We had Livie’s beignets. They were amazing. I ate so many of them.”

“We can tell,” Sabrina cut in, her tone settling on Lucian like being sprayed with battery acid. “Since half of the beignets appear to be on the front of what I guess is a shirt.”

Lucian slowly turned to Sabrina, but before he could respond, Julia did.

“Well . . .” Glancing down, she wiped a finger over the dusting of powdered sugar that had gathered on her chest. Bringing her finger to her mouth, she smiled at Sabrina. “I was saving it for later.” Then she popped that finger in her mouth, sucking the sugar right off.

Fuck.

Lucian just got so hard he was sure he was going to burst the zipper on his jeans.

Standing, Julia brushed off her pants. “But I do need to get back to work.” Glancing in his direction, she smiled faintly. “Thank you for lunch.” Then she turned to Gabe. “See you later.”

Gabe was staring at her just like Lucian was, which did not make him or Sabrina, based on the pinched expression she was rocking, all that thrilled.

Walking up to the patio, she nodded in Sabrina’s direction. “Nice to meet you,” she said, and kept walking, not giving the other woman a chance to respond or to ignore her.

Lucian watched her, a small smile playing over his lips. “I really like her.”

“So do I,” commented Gabe.

He glanced over at him.

“What would you like about her?” Sabrina asked, stepping down into the garden on heels sharp enough to murder someone. “She looks like she could break either one of you.”

His gaze shot to her. “You sound like a jealous, hungry little—”

“You know I like it when you call me names, Lucian.” She smirked as she trailed a hand over the back of the seat Julia had sat in. “It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

“As if there was anything inside you that is warm,” he retorted.

Gabe’s expression turned pleading as Lucian rose.

“You two have fun.” He winked at his brother, who looked like he wanted to punch him.

Quickly leaving the garden behind, he entered through the back mudroom. There was no sign of Julia. Though she’d held her own against Sabrina, he still wanted to check in on her, especially since he actually felt kind of responsible for how people interacted with Julia. Which was weird as hell, because he had no idea why.

Heading down the hall, he slowed down when he spotted Dev coming out of their father’s office. Interesting. “Your fiancée is currently outside harassing Gabe. You may want to retrieve her. And you may also want to warn her to never speak to Julia or look in her general direction again.”

One eyebrow rose. “That’s not important right now.”

“It’s really important to me.”

Dev continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “I just heard from the parish chief. They’ve ruled our father’s death as inconclusive. They’re opening up a homicide investigation.”