Charcoal covered his fingers and the side of Lucian’s hand. There were faint black smudges along his bare chest. Streaks he had no idea how they’d gotten there. His eyes were tired and the cramp in his neck wasn’t getting any better, but as he sat back and really looked at what the last several hours had given him, the pain was nothing but a minor annoyance.

Giving up the paint for charcoal had been a brilliant idea.

There was just something more intimate when sketching with charcoal. Maybe it was because the fingers were closer to the canvas and were involved in the shading and etching of finer details. It was a romantic art, Lucian always thought, warmer and more flawed than oil and brush.

Lucian’s gaze roamed over the canvas.

He’d started on the sketch from the moment he returned to his rooms. No sleep. Nothing to drink or eat. Hours had passed and even though there were no windows in this room, he knew the sun had crested quite some time ago.

Julia stared back at him; the exquisite line of her jaw and the lush lines of her lips were rendered in dark gray smudges and strokes. He’d captured the look on her face moments before she’d realized what she’d done with him.

Her brows were relaxed and her eyes heavy-hooded. The lashes had been hard to perfect, but it had been the slight curl of her lips that had taken him over an hour to get just right. It was that half smile he’d seen, relaxed and pleased. Just the tiniest twist to her lips, and it had been the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

The rest of her had come from memory and imagination. He’d drawn her reclining on her side, her head resting on a small fist. A sheet covered her hips, falling to the side, exposing one calf. Her stomach and chest were bare, the soft swells etched and shaded with charcoal. She was a Venus, his own personal Venus.

Ms. Hughes would probably smack him if she ever saw this.

One side of his lips kicked up.

It would be worth it.

Dropping the charcoal on a nearby tray, he rose and lifted his arm, stretching out the tight muscles. Then he walked out of the room, feeling a million times clearer than when he entered. It had been ages since he spent the better part of the night squirreled away in his studio.

And doing so now was like a reawakening.

Maddie and he got their talents from their mother. She was an artist, able to give life to any drawing, whether it was done with a plain pen or the most expensive oil brush.

It was yet something else that set him and his sister apart from their brothers.

After a quick shower and change of clothing, he headed upstairs. The craziest thing happened as he jogged up the steps. A weird mixture of nervousness and anticipation assaulted him. His steps slowed as a frown pulled at his lips.

Was he actually nervous—nervous to see Julia?

Running a hand over his chest, he headed down the hall. When was the last time he’d actually been nervous to see a woman? He could not remember.

Hell.

Unsure of what to think about that, he rounded the hall and saw that his sister’s bedroom door was open.

Maddie was at the easel. God. He still couldn’t believe that his sister was sitting up and painting. All thanks to Julia’s idea. Which meant she was also probably right about Daniel. As much as he didn’t want Daniel around, if it would help his sister, he would convince his brothers to allow it.

His gaze shifted to where Julia sat in a nearby chair. She was watching his sister while nibbling on her lower lip. Her expression was pinched, like she was lost in a world of thoughts.

Lucian wondered if he she was stressing over last night. Cocky to assume that there was nothing else going on in her life, but he was willing to bet it was on her mind. Probably was coming up with a grocery list of reasons why it shouldn’t have happened.

Leaning against the doorframe, he cleared his throat.

Julia jumped as her head shot up and over. Pink splashed over her cheeks, and his heart slammed itself against his ribs the moment their gazes locked.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Lucian found himself oddly . . . voiceless.

It was Julia who broke the silence.

Folding her arms, she scooted forward in the chair. “Good morning.”

One eyebrow rose. “So prim and proper, Ms. Hughes.”

The pink deepened as her lips pursed. “What can I do for you, Lucian?”

The sound of his name coming from that mouth punched lust right through him. If his sister wasn’t in the room, he would make it so that he wouldn’t have needed his imagination for some of what he’d drawn.

“Nothing at the moment.” Pushing away from the door, he strode across the room, fully aware of her watching him doubtfully. Reaching his sister side, he knelt down. “Good morning, Maddie.”

His sister didn’t respond as she drew the paintbrush across the canvas. His brows knitted together as he studied the canvas. Out of the pale paint, he thought he saw facial features. He looked over at Julia. “How many sheets has she done?”

“Three. This is her fourth one,” she answered. “I’ve been keeping them in the closet, out of the way.”

He nodded and then refocused on Maddie. “So, I was thinking,” he said while his sister moved to dab more paint on the brush. “How would you feel if I invited Daniel over this weekend?”

Maddie’s hand stilled.

He held his breath as his sister sat there, unmoving. Was that a good sign? Bad? “Possibly on Sunday, for lunch? Would you like that?”

Her gaze lowered. A moment passed and then she started painting again.

Lucian remained crouched for several moments in silence. “There was a response.” He looked over to Julia. “You saw that, right?”

Surprise filled her gaze as she nodded. “It was definitely something.”

He exhaled roughly as he rose. “I have no idea if it’s good or bad.”

Julia unfolded her arms. “I think it’s good. I mean, they were close friends. I don’t see how it could be bad—bad for her.”

Lucian had to agree with that. Scrunching his fingers through his damp hair, he dropped his hand. “I’m going to talk to Dev. He’s usually out most of Sunday, so he won’t be here. If he was, the whole thing will go downhill fast.”

“Then that would probably be the best time for it,” she agreed. “We don’t need her to be stressed.”

But how could they tell? Even though he agreed with Julia, what if bringing Daniel into the picture did stress her out? He had no reason to believe that would happen other than the fact that he didn’t like the little prick. He was going to have to let that go.

Turning to Julia, he studied her profile as she watched Maddie. She was back to nibbling on her lower lip, urging him to do something about that. He wanted to taste that mouth again, but he was smart enough to realize he needed to give her time.

What he’d said to her last night was true. She was in his world now, but he had to ease her into the little factoid.

“Can you step out into the hallway for a moment?”

A look of suspicion crept into her face. “Why?”

“I promise to keep my hands and . . . other parts to myself.”

Her gaze shot to Maddie as her lips pressed into a thin, hard line. She rose and stalked past him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt. She pulled him toward the door, and he couldn’t even hide his grin.

“Ms. Hughes, are you manhandling me?”

“Shut up,” she hissed.

He chuckled. “I kind of like this.”

“That’s because there’s something wrong with you.” Out in the hall, she dragged him several feel front the doorway. She dropped his sleeve and faced him. “In case you haven’t figure it out, your sister obviously has two working ears and may be able to understand what people are saying.”

“Yeah. I think I understand that.” He grinned when her eyes darkened. “I have no desire to hide that I’m interested in you.”

She took a step back, shaking her head. “Maybe you should.”

“Well, then that would make me a liar, and I’m not a fake or a liar, Ms. Hughes.”

“Oh my God,” she muttered, rubbing her brow.

“I don’t think he has anything to do with it.”

She slowly lifted her gaze and shot him a deadpan stare. “What do you want?”

He grinned. “I’d like you to be present on Sunday when Daniel is here just in case anything happens.”

She looked like that was the last thing she’d expected. “Um, my schedule isn’t really set. Dev mentioned the weekends were really up to me, but I didn’t have any plans for the weekend. I definitely will be available when Daniel is here.”

“Perfect. And you know what else is perfect?” he asked.

“You’re about to leave?”

He laughed. “No. That means you can join Gabe and me for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Wait. What?”

Eyeing the little clip that kept her bun in place, he wondered how mad she’d get if he pulled it out. “Gabe and I have a standing reservation at one of the best restaurants in the city every Saturday night. I was thinking that since you wanted to see the city, you’d be interested in joining us.”

She opened her mouth.

“It’s not a big deal. Gabe will be there, and you like him,” he reasoned. “Maybe not as much as you like me, but that’s a good thing.”

Julia’s shoulders squared. A moment passed. “Who will be watching Madeline?”

“We will have staff who will. We just have to be back before it gets too late,” he said, grinning when she rolled her eyes. “Come on, say yes.”

“And if I don’t say yes, then you’ll manipulate me into saying yes?”

Lucian tilted his head to the side. “If that’s what you need to believe to say yes, then yes.”

She snorted. “You know, you’re . . . There really aren’t words.” She shook her head. “So, it’s not going to be just you and me?”

Fighting a triumphant smile, he nodded. “Gabe will be with us.”

“Safety in numbers.”

Oh, if she only knew how wrong that belief was, but he nodded once more.

Blowing out a ragged breath, she crossed her arms once more. “Okay. I will go with you and Gabe, but that’s it. Just dinner and then I come home.”

Damn.

Home.

He got a little unsteady, thinking he liked the way she referred to this house as home. He kept that to himself. “How does seven sound, then?”

“Good to me.” She stepped to the side and then stopped. Mashing her lips together, she looked up at him. “I don’t know if I said this yesterday or not, but I was thinking about it, and . . . and I know you weren’t close to your father, but I hope the memorial service brought you and your brothers some sort of closure.”

Shock rooted him to the floor as he stared at her. She meant that. He could sense it. Something, maybe his damn heart, squeezed in his chest.

And though he knew he needed to give her time and space, he was a greedy bastard. Before she could sense what he was up to, he dipped his head and pressed a quick, too-chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. Her soft inhale ricocheted through him.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her lips, and then he drew back, letting his gaze roam over that sweet face of hers; he smiled and then pivoted around, leaving her standing in the hallway.

Gabe lingered by the door to Madeline’s room, leaning against the frame of the door with his arms folded. He didn’t come in, but he watched his sister at the easel. When it became apparent the Gabe wasn’t going to actually enter the room, Julia walked over to him. “Do you want some time with her?”

Not taking his eyes off the painting, he shook his head. “That’s okay. I actually have a client I need to get in contact with.” His head tilted to the side as his eyes narrowed. “Do you know what she’s working on?”

She shook her head. “I have no clue.”

“Me neither,” he murmured, crossing one ankle over the other. “So, about tomorrow night.” He looked over at her, lashes lowered. “I’m excited about our dinner.”

His gaze, much like his brother’s, snagged hers. At least Lucian wasn’t lying when he said the dinner included Gabe, but her stomach dipped strangely nonetheless. “Really?”

“Yes.” A half smile appeared. “I’m excited to show you New Orleans.”

Her gaze shot to his. The way he said that . . .

“Well, I need to get going.” He straightened, pushing away from the door. “Have a nice night, Julia.”

“You, too,” she murmured.

Gabe left and the afternoon turned into early evening. By the time it came to call up Richard to help move Madeline to her bed, Julia was exhausted. She’d spent the better part of the day cursing herself out for last night and then for agreeing to go out to dinner with the two brothers.

Which oddly felt like she’d agreed to a date . . . with two guys . . . at the same time.

As she paced the room while she waited for Richard, she wished she could call Anna and get her advice, but how could she do that without telling her who she was working for? She trusted Anna, but . . .

Either way, she was done berating herself. Julia got real with herself. She wouldn’t have done what she did last night if she hadn’t wanted to. She wouldn’t have agreed to dinner if she hadn’t wanted to. What she didn’t want to face, what terrified her to be honest, was that she did want to.

She wanted Lucian.

Smoothing a shaky hand over her hair, she stopped in front of the doors. Thick and heavy clouds were rolling in, casting the entire grounds into shadows. Off in the distance, thunder rolled.

She really wanted him.

Just thinking that caused her heart to jump around in her chest. What would it do if she said it aloud? What would happen if she allowed herself? He was obviously into her even though she still had no idea why he’d stopped the night at her apartment, but what would happen if she . . . she just let go?

Julia closed her eyes as she bit down on her lower lip. Her employment wasn’t at risk, but she was pretty sure her agency would really frown on the whole extracurricular activities of the fun and naughty kind.

She hadn’t really even allowed herself to think about the bonus she’d receive upon completion. She couldn’t process that yet, what that would mean for her long-term.

So what was holding her back? If she’d called Anna, that’s the question she’d ask. And that was an answer Julia didn’t want to delve into.

Truth was, she was scared of letting herself feel—to feel anything that truly went deeper than a passing interest. It had been that way ever since she’d left Adam. That relationship had been one giant mess, and maybe . . . maybe she was afraid of repeating that. And anything with Lucian would be a mess.

Because he had a way of getting under her skin. He was charming and smart. He was seductive and reckless, leaving her feeling completely out of control. He was unbelievably handsome and playful. Lucian de Vincent was American Royalty.

How could she not get in over her head with him?

Getting involved with him could lead to her feeling something more than lust, and did she really want that to happen? Because a relationship with Lucian would lead nowhere. She would leave here eventually and she wanted to do that with her heart intact.

A crack of thunder jolted her from her thoughts, forcing her eyes open. Seconds later, bright lightning cut across the sky, intense and blinding. Another loud boom of thunder followed as wind picked up, whipping around the porch.

Julia stepped back from the doors, a little unnerved by how close the lightning was. “Wow.”

“We’re in for a pretty rough storm.”

Gasping, Julia whirled around and saw Richard standing inside the doorway. Was everyone in this house skilled at being ninja-stealth? Jesus. “How do you all move so quietly? Are you even human?”

Richard chuckled. “Mr. de Vincent—Lawrence—did not like unnecessary noise. Most of us learned to move as quietly as possible.”

Footsteps were unnecessary noise? What was bizarre to Julia was that everyone could move silently throughout the house except at night, where phantom footsteps roamed loudly and aimlessly. “All righty then.”

“You’re ready to move her to the bed?” he asked.

Nodding, Julia turned to where Madeline was resting, half asleep in her comfy chair. Richard walked over and stopped, eyeing the painting she had been working on most of Friday. A strange look crossed his face as he stared at the painting.

“Do you know what she’s working on?” she asked. To her it was all very abstract.

Face smoothing out, he shook his head. “You ready?”

Together they helped Madeline stand. The process was quicker when Lucian was around, because he simply picked his sister up and carried her. Between her and Richard, they had to get her to shuffle one foot in front of the other while they supported her weight.

Once they had her in bed, a thought occurred to Julia as she carefully tucked Madeline’s legs under the blanket. “How long have you worked for the de Vincents?”

“Oh, well, since before the boys and Madeline were born.” He eased a pillow under Madeline’s head. “My father worked for Lawrence’s father. Grew up alongside Lawrence. Was natural to end up working for him.”

“That’s—wow, a really long time.” She remembered the young man who had picked her up at the airport. He’d said something similar.

Richard moved back from the bed, standing next to the dresser and small stand. “These kids are like my own.” He glanced over at Julia. “Livie and I didn’t want any of our own, so we took joy in spoiling the boys and Madeline whenever we could get away with it.”

Julia glanced over at him, wondering if she was stepping out of line by asking the next question. “It wasn’t easy for them as kids, was it?”

A sad sort of smile crossed his face. “Lawrence was very hard on them. He expected a lot, just like his father had of him.” He stared at Madeline for several moments. “You never had the chance to meet Lawrence. He could be very hard, but . . . he had his reasons. I didn’t always agree with them, but he had them.”

Julia wondered what kind of reasons could he have had to be so terrible to his children.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Nope. That’s it.”

He nodded and headed for the door, where he stopped. “Will you be joining the boys for dinner tonight?”

She almost laughed. “No, I’m just going to relax.”

“Of course. Would you like a plate of dinner sent to your room?”

Her mouth opened, but it took a moment to find the words. “That’s not necessary. I have what Livie was kind enough to pick up.”

“It is no trouble at all.” The skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “It’s butter and herb roasted prime rib. It’s amazing.”

Roasted prime rib? Her stomach grumbled in response. “How could I turn that down?”

“You can’t. I’ll have it brought up at seven sharp.”

“Thank you,” she said, still feeling like she shouldn’t have agreed.

Richard nodded and then pivoted, disappearing out into the hallway. Shaking her head, she walked into the bathroom. It was weird having someone waiting around to just do things for you. No matter how long she was here, she doubted that was something she would get used to.

Gathering up the clean towels that had been placed in the bathroom earlier, she carried them into the closet. She placed them on their little cubby. On the way out, she closed the closet door. Her elbow connected with the stack of magazines and books left on the stand by the dresser. They smacked off the floor, one after another.

“Of course,” she muttered, glancing over at Madeline. Her eyes were still closed, but Julia doubted she was sleeping.

Bending down, she swept up the magazines and books. As she placed them back on the stand, something white lay on the floor.

Frowning, Julia bent down and picked up the scrap of paper. It was a piece of notebook paper, the section torn off away at the corner of a page and folded over. The slip of paper didn’t look old, dull or yellowish.

Julia straightened the stack as she rose, unfolding the piece of paper along the way. She stilled, her brows pulling down as she read the two handwritten lines.