Her brows knitted together. At the bottom right of the canvas there were two letters painted in white. “M.D.?” she whispered.
She turned slowly, facing the bed. “Are those your initials? Did you paint this?”
Madeline blinked.
That wasn’t much of an answer obviously, but what kind of coincidence would it be for there to be a painting hanging in this house with those initials that belonged to someone else? Then again, it could belong to another family member, an ancestor long passed.
Julia looked at Madeline’s still hands. Her fingers were long and elegant. Hands of an artist, just like—
She cut that thought off with a groan and refocused. If Madeline was the painter, maybe Julia could use that? There were a ton of studies supporting using art as a means of communications with patients who couldn’t verbally communicate. Maybe something like that would—
Footsteps intruded on her thoughts. Julia turned to the doorway, cringing. She fully expected it to be one of the brothers about to yell at her for being out of bed. “I’m in trouble,” she whispered to Madeline.
A shadow appeared and then a man dressed in an expensive, tailored charcoal-gray suit. He was a strikingly handsome older man with dark hair that was turning silver at the temples. He looked so much like Gabe and Devlin that if she hadn’t known about their father she would’ve sworn it was him.
He stopped just inside the doorway, the same amazing mix of blue-green eyes drifting from where Madeline sat and Julia stood. The man cleared his throat as he adjusted the darker gray tie. “Hello. You must be the new nurse.” His voice was deep and cultured with a hint of southern accent.
Having no idea who he was, she nodded. “Yes. My name is—”
“Julia Hughes,” he cut in, smiling slightly as he took a step into the room. “I’ve heard all about you.”
Oh Lord.
That could mean so many things. “Well, you have me at a disadvantage. I don’t know your name.”
“I doubt there are many who would have you at a disadvantage,” he replied, and boy was that a weird thing to say. “I’m Stefan de Vincent—Senator de Vincent.”
The senator. Oh my word, she’d heard all about him in the tabloids. Most of it not good. Wasn’t there an intern who had worked for his office that had gone missing under suspicious circumstances that were tied to him?
“I see you’ve heard of me.”
Julia really hoped what she was thinking wasn’t written on her face, because hello, awkward. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He lifted his chin as he scanned the room, his gaze dancing over Madeline. “Well, I am here on business and thought I would check in on my niece.”
“Would you like some privacy?” she asked even though some innate instinct turned that offer to bitter ash in her mouth.
“That’s not necessary. How is she doing?”
She clasped her hands together. “As well as can be expected.”
“Which means what?” he asked. The eyes that were so much like all the other de Vincents were distinctively colder. “That she’s breathing and sitting up on her own?”
A burn started in the pit of her stomach. “Which is amazing considering what she’s been through.”
“And what exactly has dear Madeline been through?” The senator folded his arms. “As far as I’ve been told, no one knows exactly. For all we know, she was doing just fine.”
Julia’s brow wrinkled. “It’s doubtful that she was doing fine—”
“Is that a medical opinion or one that is personal? I ask because as far as I can tell, she’s in amazing health for someone who has been missing and presumed dead for ten years.” He smiled, and something about the twist of his lips felt patronizing. “And since I’m sure you’re unaware of Madeline’s previous behavior, please forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical of her and her condition.”
Her spine straightened as a sharp need to defend the woman rose. “My medical opinion is that she is in good health despite what has occurred.”
“Hmm.” The sound was absolutely dismissive. He walked toward Madeline, and Julia resisted the urge to bum-rush him. Luckily he stopped a few feet from the woman. “I remember the first time she ran away. She was six years old. Ran off with that cousin of hers.” His lip curled in distaste. “Had her mother in hysterics and her . . . her father worried something terrible had happened to her. The boys found the two of them squirreled away a few miles off the property playing some game.”
“Children do that,” she replied.
“Not these children.” His gaze lifted from Madeline to Julia. “Not those types of games.”
She frowned. “I’m not sure what you’re referencing—”
“Of course not. Just be careful, Julia. Madeline has a way about her.” He rocked back on his heels. “Gets under your skin.” He glanced at the open door as the sound of approaching steps was heard. “Just ask her brothers. Especially her twin.”
A few seconds later, Lucian appeared in the doorway. He took one look at the occupants in his sister’s room and his hands closed into fists. “Why are you here?”
Julia wasn’t sure which one he was talking to.
Senator de Vincent answered. “Introducing myself to the lovely Julia and visiting my niece while awaiting Devlin’s return.”
Lucian focused on Julia and not a single thing about his expression said he looked like he believed what his uncle had claimed. “Is everything okay?”
Pressing her lips together, Julia nodded while the senator turned to Lucian. “Of course,” he answered. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Is that a serious question?” he asked.
“Don’t be silly.” The senator clapped a hand on Lucian’s shoulder as he strolled toward the door. Stopping, he inclined his head toward Julia. “It was lovely meeting you.”
There was no way in hell Julia was going to say the same thing. The senator seemed to know that, because that smirk of his kicked up a notch, and then he was gone.
Lucian stared at the empty doorway for a moment and then faced Julia. “What did he want?”
“What he said.” Julia glanced back at Madeline. She was still staring at the painting. “He was checking on her.”
Lucian snorted. “Did he say anything to you?”
Not wanting to antagonize what was already obviously a strained relationship, she shook her head. Besides, she wasn’t even sure what the senator had been talking about. She did want to know if there was truly a history of Madeline running away, but she was wise enough to know now wasn’t the same time to ask. “He’s not as friendly as you and Gabe.”
Lucian inclined his head. “I’m kind of glad to hear that.”
“Me, too.”
“How are you feeling? I would’ve checked in on your earlier, but haven’t had the chance.”
“I’m okay.” She felt her cheeks flush for some dumb reason and she quickly looked away. “My head barely even hurts.”
“Guess you have a thick skull?” he teased.
“My parents would agree with that statement.” Compelled by some kind of dark magic, she found herself staring at him again.
God, he was so beautiful it made her heart wince. Part of her still couldn’t believe what had happened between them. Days later and it didn’t seem real. More like some kind of heated dream, but the memory of how all that hardness felt pressed against her back was nearly impossible to repress.
“You’re looking a little flushed, Ms. Hughes.”
She was feeling a little flushed. “Julia. You can call me Julia.”
He simply smiled.
Julia cleared her throat. Since he was here and hadn’t yelled at her yet, she decided to ask him about the painting. “That painting over there. Did Madeline do that?”
Lucian turned at the waist to look at the painting and was silent for a moment. “Yeah, that’s one of hers.”
“She used to paint a lot?”
He nodded.
“It’s beautiful . . . and a bit morb
id.”
A slight grin tipped up the corners of his lips. “Maddie could have morbid tastes when it came to painting.”
Julia got a little hung up on the way his shirt stretched over his shoulder and upper arm as he lifted a hand, dragging his fingers through his hair. “So, I was thinking—”
“About me?” He dropped his hand.
“No.” That was a lie. “Sometimes people in Madeline’s state may not be able to verbally communicate, but can through other means.”
Interest piqued in his expression. “What do you mean?”
“There’s been examples of people with certain disorders able to communicate through more creative methods, like music and art. That kind of stuff.” She tucked a loose strand of hair back, hiding the wince when her fingers brushed the raw spot behind her ear. “Since she enjoyed painting before, she may still be able to do that.”
His gaze shot to where his sister rested. “Do you think that will work?”
“Well, it’s not exactly a science or something that works for everyone, but she’s able to lift her hands and she has been staring at that painting a lot. And her painting, if she can do it, may not tell us anything about where she’s been or anything like that, but I don’t think it could hurt, especially getting her back into the habit of doing things she used to enjoy. And who knows? It could lead to her being able to do other things.”
He studied Julia for a moment. “I agree. It couldn’t hurt. I can get the supplies necessary by the end of the day.”
Pleased that he didn’t shoot down her idea, she smiled. “Perfect.”
“There’s just one other thing. You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
Julia’s shoulders tensed. “I know, but I feel fine and I haven’t really done anything.”
“You’re not supposed to be out of bed.”
“And I just wanted to check on Madeline.”
“I appreciate that, but you’ve done that. Time to get back to bed.” Pausing, he stepped toward her. “Or I will carry you back to bed.”
Julia got her butt back to bed.
Because she knew that wasn’t an idle warning. He would do just that.
Like the doctor had ordered and the brothers attempted to enforce, Julia remained in her room the rest of the day. Well, she did sneak out in the evening to check Madeline over, but other than that, she stayed put.
Part of her expected one or both of the brothers to appear after Livie brought up dinner to her, but neither did. She wondered if they were even home, and if they weren’t, did that mean she was in this huge house all alone with the exception of Madeline?
That was kind of creepy.
But that wasn’t what was keeping her awake. Her body was hot, too hot, and she was . . . she was thrumming with need. Even though what she’d done with Lucian had been the first real action she’d seen in years, she still had desires.
Desires she indulged on a weekly basis.
Sometimes more.
This was different, though. More intense. Probably because, for some damn reason, she’d spent the better part of the evening thinking about Lucian—about Lucian and the brief moments in her apartment. It had started when he found her in Madeline’s room and she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of his hot breath along her neck or the way he knew how to touch her.
Julia was aroused, and the room was dark and quiet as she bit down on her lower lip and rolled onto her back. Giving in, she stopped thinking.
Closing her eyes and pressing her lips together, she slipped her hand under the band of her pajama bottoms. Her fingers slid over damp, aching flesh, and her breath caught. Feeling oddly wicked, she thrust a finger inside.
A raspy moan parted her lips as her hips lifted. She didn’t play. Oh no, her body was so keyed up right at that moment that if Lucian appeared, she’d let him . . .
She’d let him do whatever he wanted.
Her movements caused the thin strips of her top to slip down her arm and then lower. The tip of her breast appeared, the nipple puckered and tight. Lucian had done amazing things with his fingers, between her thighs and on her breasts.
She moaned softly.
Julia let herself go back to the night in her apartment, easily conjuring up the sensation of Lucian pressed against her back, one hand curled around her breast and the other plunging deep inside her. Her pulse pounded as her own fingers mimicked what Lucian had done to her. In. Out. In out. And she let herself fully slip into the fantasy. It wasn’t her hand. It was Lucian’s bringing her to the edge, drawing out the slick wetness until she couldn’t—
Pleasure erupted, licking through her veins as her back arched and hips rose, thrusting against her own hand. She fell back to the bed, her heart racing and breath coming out in ragged puffs as she eased her fingers out.
God.
She’d never come that hard and that fast by herself before. Throat dry, she swallowed hard as she blinked opened her eyes. There was a dull flare of pain along the side of her head. What she’d done probably wasn’t a smart idea, but she couldn’t work up the energy to care. Her body felt wonderfully spent and—
A rush of cool air washed over her body. There was a soft creak that caused every muscle in Julia to lock up. Her wide gaze darted around the darkness as she yanked her top back in place. It sounded like it came by the closet. The door was cracked open, like she’d left it.
Heart now racing for a different reason, she stared at the closet door until her vision blurred. All kinds of insane thoughts filled her mind. What if the sound hadn’t come from the closet but the actual door. That wasn’t locked. One of the brothers could’ve checked on her and she was in the bed, touching herself.
Okay. That was ridiculous. It was way too late for any of them to be checking in on her.
Julia rolled over, facing the door. Thrusting one hand under the pillow, she firmly closed her eyes and ordered herself to go to sleep. Tomorrow morning was going to come soon enough.
She kept her eyes closed, but sleep didn’t come. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling skating over her skin. The sensation that she wasn’t alone in the room.
Then she heard it.
Footsteps from above. The sound was unmistakable.
A frown pulled at her lips as she sat up and stared up at the ceiling, where the fan churned silently. Her hair fell over her shoulders as she tilted her head to the side. The bedroom directly above hers was . . . Madeline’s.
Julia sat very still, straining to hear the noise again. After a few moments, she began to believe that she was hearing things, but then she heard it again. Someone was up in that room, walking around.
Could it be one of the brothers?
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, she seriously doubted they’d be up there at this time of night. Tossing the blanket off, she swung her legs off the bed and stood.
Training took over. If it were Madeline upstairs walking around, something about her condition had obviously changed. She needed to investigate.
She slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops and left the bedroom, stepping out into the interior hallway.
Her gaze darted to the wide door catty-corner to hers. Her heart skipped a beat as she veered away from that area. God, he could’ve been right there, a handful of steps away from her while she brought herself to orgasm with images of him—
Ugh.
Stop it.
Pushing thoughts of Lucian out of her head, she hurried down the dimly lit hall. It was wide and the wall sconces did very little to brighten the way. She couldn’t help but think of The Shining.
A shiver danced over her skin.
If two girls on trikes appeared, she was out like a belly button.
Julia reached the staircase and quickly made her way upstairs. The hallway up there was just as freaky as the one below. Each step she took caused the tiny hairs all along her body to rise. A tingle started in just below her neck, between her shoulders.
It reminded her
of . . . of being watched.
Biting down on her lip, she glanced behind her. No one else was in the hall. All the doors were shut, but . . .
She shuddered and picked up her pace. Her imagination was getting the best of her after last night. Reaching Madeline’s door, she opened it and quickly came to a stop, scanning the room.
The lamp beside the bed was on, just as Julia had left it, and Madeline was also where she’d left her. Resting peacefully in bed, and nothing else was out—
Chilly air rushed down her arms, stirring the ends of her hair. She turned to the right and saw the curtains covering the porch doors billow and ripple. She inhaled deeply, catching the musty scent of the outdoors.
“What the . . . ?” Her brows slammed down as she crossed the room. Gripping the flimsy white curtains, she pulled them apart.
The doors leading out to the dark porch were wide open. Glancing over her shoulder at Madeline’s prone figure, she really hoped that no one had visited her and had been so careless.
Turning back to the doors, she quietly closed them and then turned the lock. How in the world did these doors get open? Obviously it hadn’t been Madeline. Neither was she the source of the footsteps.
She stepped back from the doors, crossing her arms over her chest. Someone had been up here and it had to be—
The feeling from the hallway returned, that sharp tingle between her shoulder blades. This time it was far stronger, sending a shiver tiptoeing down her spine. The tips of her ears burned.
Her breath caught as she slowly unfolded her arms. A different kind of instinct roared to the surface, screaming at her that she wasn’t alone in the room. That there was someone else in that room and it wasn’t Madeline.
Heart leaping into her throat, she whirled around. Air halted in her lungs. She’d been right. She wasn’t alone.
The very source of her earlier fantasies stood in the doorway.
Lucian.
Chapter 12
Lucian saw Julia before she realized he was standing there. She was in the process of closing the porch doors and her back was to him. He knew she had no idea he was standing there and he also knew he should probably announce his presence, but he remained quiet as sin as he leaned against the doorframe.
Moonlight Sins Page 14