The de Vincents had private rooms on the third floor of the Red Stallion, where only elite members had access, but Lucian found Gabe where he always did, at the bar on the main level.

Lucian dragged in the earthy scent of liquor and rich tobacco as he cut across the polished hardwood floors. The low hum of conversation mixed with the sound of glasses clinking together.

“Am I that predictable?” Gabe asked when Lucian dropped into the leather cushioned stool beside him.

“Yes.” Lucian glanced around. A few men in business suits sat several stools away and only a handful of the tables were full. Pulling his cell out of his pocket, he placed it on the bar top. “You left pretty quickly.”

Gabe picked up his glass as he eyed the TV above the bar. Numbers tracked along the bottom of the screen. “You know why I left.”

Yeah, he did. “Still after you?”

Gabe’s lips twisted into a bitter sneer. “What do you think?”

“I think one of these days you’re going to have to talk to Dev.” Lucian nodded as the bartender arrived with a glass and a bottle of Bowmore.

His brother snorted. “I’ll make sure you have front row seats for that conversation.”

Hell, Lucian would make sure he was in a different zip code if that day ever came. “Did you happen to talk to Dev before you bounced?”

He shook his head.

The bite of the whiskey peeled Lucian’s lips back. “I’m kind of surprised you’re here and not at your warehouse.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he repeated. “And you’re being uncharacteristically vague.”

“That’s a big word for you.”

“I got a big brain.”

Gabe coughed out a dry laugh. “You know what gets on my nerves about you?”

“I’m not sure if we have enough time or liquor to go through that list.”

He grinned. “You’re annoyingly observant. People don’t realize that about you. You see through a lot of bullshit, but you know what else I know? You only see through the shit you want to see through. Any other time, you put blinders on.”

Lucian’s hand tightened around the glass. “I know where you’re going with this. I know you and Dev think Maddie is faking—”

“She’s up there painting.” Gabe’s eyes met his as he spoke in a low, clipped voice. “She’s up in that room painting, but she can’t do anything else? You’re telling me that’s not suspicious as hell?”

“I don’t know what it is, but that’s irrelevant.”

Shaking his head, Gabe took a long swallow of his whiskey. “Let me ask you something.”

“If it’s about Maddie, I don’t want to hear it, because I don’t want to punch you off this stool and draw attention.”

“It’s not about her. It’s about Julia.”

Well, shit, that was also another topic he figured would end the same way. “What about her?”

Gabe held his gaze. “What would you do if I said I was interested in her?”

“I’d punch you off that stool.” He leaned in, keeping eye contact. “But I know you’re not into her like I am.”

He raised a brow. “Maybe I’m interested enough.”

Lucian got what he was saying. “We are long past those days, brother.”

“Really? Because it didn’t seem that way a couple of months ago. What was her name? Laurie? The three of us had a real good night.” He paused, biting down on his lip. “Could be another good night with Julia.”

A muscle began to work along Lucian’s jaw. “It’s different.”

“You mean she’s different?”

“Yes,” he gritted out.

“Huh.” Gabe looked away and took another drink.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed.

A long moment passed and then Gabe said one name that was a shock to the system. “Emma.”

Lucian stiffened. None of them talked about her. None of them would even dare to bring her up to Gabe. “What about her?”

Gabe didn’t answer immediately. “Her father contacted me this morning.” He stared down at his glass. “He didn’t say why, but asked if I could come to Baton Rouge next week.”

“Shit.” Lucian sensed there was more to this. “And no reason why?”

Gabe shook his head. “You know I haven’t talked to her in years. Haven’t even seen her, so all I can think is . . .” The next breath he took shook a little. “Something must’ve happened to her.”

Oh hell, if that was the case, that would be bad. “Need me to go with you?”

“No.” He looked up. “If she is fine, she doesn’t need to see both of us or Dev. She made that plenty clear that last time we spoke.”

That was true, but he didn’t like his brother going into this blind. Emma was a part of a tricky past that none of them could afford to dwell on, especially Gabe.

“So, I doubt you tracked me down to talk about this stuff. What’s your reason to be here when I know you’d rather be spying on the nurse.”

“Someone else is observant.” He spoke low so they wouldn’t be overheard. “The police are opening a homicide investigation. Only a matter of time before that hits the news.”

Gabe white-knuckled his glass. “Not like you care about that.”

“I don’t, but you know that Dev does.”

“Yeah.” Several moments passed. Gabe twisted toward him once more. “I’ve got to know. Just between you and me. No bullshit. Do you think our father killed himself?”

Lucian exhaled raggedly and then tipped his head back, finishing off his drink. “No. No, I don’t.”

Gasping awake, Julia rolled onto her back and blinked open her eyes. Her heart thudded in her chest as her gaze darted around the dark bedroom.

Where am I?

It took a few moments for the unfamiliar surroundings to click into place. She was in her room at the de Vincent compound. It was Thursday night—or Friday morning. She’d actually fallen asleep pretty easily, a little after eleven, but as the cobwebs of sleep cleared, she felt like something had woken her up.

Her name.

That was it.

She swore she heard someone call her name.

Squinting, she tried to make out the different dark shapes in the room. The outline of the chair by the door. The curtains in front of the porch. The small table—the curtains. They floated along the floor as if a rush of air stirred them.

Oh my God.

Her heart kicked into overdrive as she jerked upright. Were those doors open?

Mouth dry, she quickly leaned over and flipped on her lamp on the nightstand. Soft light flooded the room, chasing the shadows back. Her left hand curled around the edge of the bedspread as she scanned the room. The white curtains swayed, the center billowing out. Cool musty air crept over the bed, washing over her bare arms.

Every muscle locked in to place for a second as icy fear took root in the pit of her stomach and then she sprung into action. Tossing the blanket off her legs, she scrambled from the bed. She rushed over to the doors, her heart leaping into her throat as she drew the curtains back.

The doors were wide open, leading out onto the dark, quiet porch.

For a moment, she couldn’t even move as she stared out into the night. Her brain simply wouldn’t process it. There was no way.

“I locked these,” she said to herself. Hadn’t she?

A bird trilled somewhere off in the distance, snapping her out of her stupor. Reaching forward she grabbed the doors and pulled them shut, throwing the lock.

Rubbing her hands down her arms, she turned and her gaze settled on the interior door. She hurried to that door, finding it locked. She was almost positive that she’d locked the porch doors before she’d climbed into bed.

Unease sent a shiver down her spine as she backed away from the door and started to sit down on the bed when she heard it. Footsteps. Her gaze shot to the ceiling. The sound was clear as day. There was no mistaking it.

Walking around the bed, she tracked the footsteps across the room and then they just stopped, leaving Julia standing a few feet in front of her closet, which would put the source of the footsteps roughly in the same area.

She glanced at the clock. Same time as the night before last. A little after two in the morning.

Julia waited and when she didn’t hear the sound again, her eyes narrowed. Whoever was up there had to still be in the room. She didn’t hear the footsteps head toward either doors.

Pivoting around, she snatched the long cardigan off the back of the chair and slipped it on. She unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway, determined to find out whoever was strolling around in Madeline’s room.

She made it a few steps before the door to the right opened and Lucian walked out into the hall.

Oh holy mother of God. . . .

Lucian was shirtless.

She hadn’t forgotten the glimpse she had of him the night in her apartment, but her memory did nothing for her.

His skin was a tawny golden color and there was a whole lot of it on display. Those shoulders were wide and his pecs were well-defined. Her gaze got a little hung up on the dusky male nipples before lowering. He wasn’t overly muscled, but lean and cut.

Dear Lord, his body was incomparable. Adam sure as hell didn’t have a body like this. Not that his was bad. It was just normal. And normal was good. Normal was safe, because what Lucian had going on was a whole lot of trouble.

He had the kind of body that you wanted to touch. The tips of her fingers tingled at the mere thought of tracing the taut dips and planes.

She knew she should stop staring at him, but she couldn’t help herself. The sweatpants he wore rode his hips indecently low, showing off two indents on either side of his hips and a faint trail of hair.

“Ms. Hughes.”

Damn. His voice, the smooth, deep timbre combined with the way he said her name, crawled deep into her belly and smoldered.

“You’re staring,” he said.

Oh, she was doing more than just staring. Christ, she was looking so hard that she was pretty sure the image of him was branded into her mind so her memory wouldn’t dig up hazy images of him shirtless anymore.

Flushing to the roots of her hair, she forced herself to look away. “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t apologize. I like you staring at me.”

Her gaze flew to his and she saw him smile. There was a predatory twist to his lips, the kind that almost left her wishing she was the prey.

He slowly crossed his arms, the position popping out his biceps. “I’m guessing you heard the footsteps.”

Finally remembering why she was actually out in the hallway, she found her voice. “You heard them, too?”

Lucian nodded.

She wanted to ask if he planned on checking it out or was he just going to stand there and serve as eye candy. She decided against that. Stepping around him, she bit back a groan when he followed.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m here to protect you.”

Julia tilted her head to the side. “From what exactly?”

“You never know.”

She rolled her eyes as she tugged the ends of her sweater together and she continued down the hall. “I’m pretty sure the only thing I need protecting from is the one thing masquerading as a protector.”

“You wound me, Ms. Hughes. Deeply.”

“Sure,” she said, casting a slight frown at the flickering wall sconce.

Lucian fell in step beside her. “You didn’t come to dinner tonight.”

She hadn’t.

“You didn’t come to dinner the day before either.”

Nope.

Making use of the groceries Livie had picked up for her during the afternoon of her second day here, she’d made herself a small dinner both nights. After her brief introduction to Devlin’s fiancée, she really didn’t want to face the potential of having to sit through a dinner with her. She didn’t trust herself to remain polite if the woman made another snide comment.

“And I have this feeling you’ve been avoiding me,” he said as they climbed the stairs.

Yep.

Which was also another reason why Julia hadn’t attended their dinners. After what he said to her and how she reacted to his honesty about what he wanted from her—how her body had been ready to board the Hell Yeah train—she figured it was smart to keep her distance.

So she had.

During the day, she took the outside staircase to avoid walking past his rooms. Around the time he showed up the first time to con her into taking a lunch, she made sure she was hard to find, usually taking her lunch in her room. And when he arrived to spend time with his sister, she used that as a perfect moment to slip away and check in with her parents.

Or pretend to do so.

But she had talked to her mother yesterday about Adam and how he could’ve gotten her new number. Neither of her parents knew how and she knew they wouldn’t lie over something like that.

Adam hadn’t called again and, up until this very moment, her Operation Avoid Lucian had been working just fine.

He was quiet, blissfully so, as they made their way to his sister’s room.

Of course, they found no one in Madeline’s room. The porch doors were shut and locked, and she was sleeping. Careful not to disturb her, they left the room quickly.

“Are you going to check her room every time you hear footsteps?” he asked once they were back out in the hallway.

“Yes.” Holding the edges of her sweater together, she started back down the hall. The smartest thing for her to do was to get back to her room and in her bed. Alone. “It’s my job to make sure she’s okay. If someone is disturbing her in the middle of the night or if . . .”

“If what?” He was right beside her, easily keeping up with her with his long-legged pace.

She didn’t want to suggest that it was Madeline, but at this point, anything was possible. “I just need to check on her.”

Lucian was quiet for a moment. “You take your job seriously.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

In the middle of the hall, he stopped and stood in front of her. “I like that about you.”

“My life is now complete.”

A grin formed. “Not yet, but I can help you with that.”

Her eyes rolled so hard she was surprised they didn’t fall out the back of her head. “I’m curious. Would you have checked this out if I hadn’t?”

“All of us are used to the weird noises,” he explained, still standing in front of her. “We’ve spent many late nights tracking those sounds down and finding nothing. We usually just ignore them now.”

“But your sister—”

“I would’ve checked this out,” he cut in. “Your presence is like a nice little bonus.”

Julia ignored that. “Have you been hearing footsteps coming from this room for a long time?”

He didn’t answer immediately. “We’ve heard footsteps all throughout the house.”

“But what about Madeline’s room?”

Reaching up, he scratched his fingers through his messy hair. “I know how this is going to sound, but I don’t remember hearing anything coming from that room until . . .”

She waited, brows raised.

“Until the night my father died,” he finished. “I heard footsteps then. Didn’t find anything.”

Well, that was interesting and . . . and suspicious. She hated thinking that, but who wouldn’t? “And there’s no way it could be Gabe or Devlin?”

He huffed out a dry laugh. “Like I said, it’s not them.”

Julia thought about the open doors in her room. She had to have left them unlocked and not closed properly, but the footsteps? Maybe it was the house settling. Because if it weren’t one of the brothers and the whole ghost thing was ridiculous, it had to be tricks of the mind.

There was no other option.

She sighed. “I need to get back to bed.”

“But I have a secret to tell you, Ms. Hughes.”

The good Lord only knew what kind of secrets he had. Julia stepped around him and started walking again.

“There’s a reason why you’ve been so successful in avoiding me,” he said, and she looked up at him sharply. Hadn’t this conversation ended before they even made it to Madeline’s room? “It’s because I haven’t been pushing it.”

She almost stopped walking, almost took the bait. “Lucian—”

He moved so fast she didn’t have a chance to react.

One second he was a little behind her and then suddenly her back was flush with the wall and he was right in front of her, his hands planted on either side of her head.

Holy crap.

There were just a few inches between their bodies, but she swore she could feel the heat he was throwing off as he lowered his head so they were eye level. Julia’s breath caught as she pressed back against the wall.

“Damn.” His warm breath danced over her cheek, stirring the hair at her temples. “I really, really love the sound of my name coming off your lips.”

Something akin to anticipation skated over her skin. “I really, really need you to back off.”

The hue of his eyes deepened as he tilted his head, lining their mouths up in a way that would be perfect for them to kiss.

And then the most ridiculous thoughts started swirling around in her head.

Would this be so bad? He claimed he wanted her. He’d put that right out there, as blunt as humanly possible. Her skin was buzzing with the mere idea of touching him again, exploring all that bare skin and those lips. All she had to do was move her head forward an inch and then . . . then she just needed to live a little. Plunge into whatever dark promises those sea-blue eyes of his offered.

Bizarrely, she didn’t feel threatened. Not at all. Even given everything that had gone down with Adam, she had felt something entirely different than fear or anger.

She’d felt daring instead.

This wasn’t like her. Not at all.

Just like taking him back to her apartment wasn’t like her.

She didn’t even like Lucian. Okay, well, she liked the Taylor she’d met in the bar but wasn’t particularly fond of the version known as Lucian. And what she did know about him, it was everything she shouldn’t like in a guy. Or at least it felt that way to her. She found him infuriating and smug, aggressive, and, okay, the fact that he read Harry Potter to his sister was sweet and she could tell he truly did care about his sister. She sensed there was more to him than . . . than the walking sex persona, but . . .

But what she wanted was just a kiss, and it had been so long since she was kissed, forever since she felt like she could be devoured by another. How bad could that be? Awareness coursed through her body and the tips of her breasts pebbled under the thin shirt.

This deep, masculine sound came from Lucian, sending a pulsing dart of lust through her. He sensed it. She didn’t know how he could, but he knew what she was thinking. Those thick lashes of his drifted down and she knew he was going to do it. He was going to kiss her right in this hallway. He would press her into the wall, trapping her body there with his, and she wanted to feel him.

What could go wrong?

Cold reality slammed into her. What could go wrong? Hell. Everything, but namely her job.

It was official.

The curse of the de Vincent house was real, because she was losing her mind.

“This is screwed up,” she said. “You’re screwed up.”

“I’m not just screwed up, Ms. Hughes. I’m as broken as they come, but I don’t need to be fixed. I don’t want to be fixed.” He caged her in. “I like all my fucked-up shards and pieces. They make me who I am. They make me real. The question is, can you handle real?”

She should really push him away now, especially since he was telling her that he was messed up. Not that she needed that confirmation, but she didn’t push him away.

Then Lucian made that sound again, causing the very core of her to clench in desperation. Somehow, she didn’t even know, her hands landed on his chest. His skin was smooth and hard under her palms. She didn’t push him away.

He lowered his head, stopping a mere inch from her mouth. A taut moment passed as her heart thundered out of control and her brain screamed for her to end this before it was too late.

“Fuck it,” he growled.

And then he kissed her.