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 th
ose 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 enter
ed 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.”
Chapter 17
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.
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