His fingers tightened around the glass as he sensed Dev was about to say something. Lucian beat him to it. “Yes. Her name is Julia Hughes and you will treat her like she’s an heiress to a ripe, unplumbed oil field.”

A muscle flexed along Stefan’s right eye, just like it had on their father whenever he was getting irritated. Then he shrugged . . . and then he really pissed Lucian off.

“I don’t know why you’re going to all this trouble with your sister.” He paused as he eyed his drink. “That girl was damaged way before she—”

“You finish that statement, I think we’re going to be planning two funerals instead of one.” Lucian paused, letting his words sink in. “And you know that’s not an idle threat.”

Stefano’s lips thinned. “Seriously?” He looked over at Dev in disbelief. “You’re going to allow him to threaten me twice in one day?”

Dev picked up his glass. “Last I checked I had absolutely no control over him.”

Lucian smirked as Stefan’s pale gaze settled on him. He raised his glass to his uncle. “We never asked your opinion on Madeline,” he reminded him, and come to think of it, when they told Stefano about Madeline’s return, he hadn’t been snide about it then. Not like their father had been. In all honesty, his uncle hadn’t appeared to care at all about it, but now? Different story. “Our father didn’t ask your opinion either.”

“As if you have any idea what Lawrence discussed with me,” he replied, jaw working.

“Well, I know that he thought you were about as useful as a fork in a sugar bowl.”

One side of Dev’s lips twitched.

The senator sat back. A moment passed and then he downed what was left in his glass.

“This will be a lovely dinner,” Dev commented dryly.

Not if Julia didn’t show. Growing restless, he shifted in his chair. Where was she? And where in the world was Gabe? He was usually down here by now.

Only a handful of seconds later, Gabe strolled in through the archway. He caught sight of the senator and sent a weird look at Dev, who simply shook his head. Gabe dropped into a seat, and as the dinner got going, it became apparent that Julia wasn’t showing.

Lucian’s appetite vanished. A wry grin twisted his lips. Why had he actually expected her to come down? But did she even have dinner? He doubted that she would bat an eyelash at his concern.

Lucian knew what she was doing.

His nurse was hiding from him and that just wouldn’t work for him.

The sun had set an hour or so ago and Madeline was in her bed, clothed for sleeping and fed by the time Julia found her way back to her room. She’d hurried through the hallways, not liking them and their flickering lights. They really gave that whole, friendly redrum vibe.

Once she was back in her room, she fired a set of quick texts to her mother, letting her know that everything was fine, and ate what was left of the sandwich Livie had brought her that afternoon. She was too tired to worry about how the de Vincents felt about her skipping the dinner. Besides, her thoughts were all over the place, jumping from Madeline’s condition—something she should be thinking about—to why Lucian had stopped before things got really interesting the night prior—something she really didn’t need to think about.

Like at all.

It shouldn’t matter, especially now, considering she was working for his family, and she was still extremely pissed and feeling like she’d been tricked, but this small part of her wondered why he hadn’t been interested in her returning the favor or having sex. Had he changed his mind? Sobered up? Hell, she didn’t think he’d been drinking that much, but was it all just some kind of plan to see how far she’d go?

Ugh.

The food in her stomach soured as she told herself once more she was never going to let her horny little heart soar ever again.

Feeling like she had a film of airplane grossness on her body, she was finally going to make use of the beautiful shower. She peeled off her pants and shirt, tossing them in a small hamper inside the bathroom. In her bra and panties, she remembered that the towels were stashed on narrow shelves just inside the closet door.

She crept back out into the bedroom and dashed to the closet. She flipped on the overhead light. Larger towels were in the bottom cubby. Bending down, she reached for the one as cold air slipped over her arm.

Julia frowned as she grabbed the towel and straightened. Loose tendrils of hair along the nape of her neck stirred. A faint trail of shivers circled down her spine.

Whirling around, she stared at the back of the closet, half expecting to find a large crack in the wall or a vent directly above her. Scanning the wall and the ceiling, she saw nothing but smooth white plaster.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she looked around again as a wave of tiny goose bumps spread over her bare skin. She felt . . . God, this sounded insane, she felt watched.

Obviously she wasn’t being watched unless it was by a ghost. There were no windows and no one else was in here.

She clutched the towel to her chest as she backed out of the closet, feeling a little ridiculous. Even though the house had been renovated, it was still old and most old homes were drafty.

Once she was back in the steamy bathroom, she undressed the rest of the way, let her hair down, and then hopped in. A moan of pleasure escaped her as the jets hit all the tight muscles. Spying little bottles, she tried out the luxurious body wash with the fancy name she couldn’t pronounce.

This bathroom reminded her of the ones in very expensive hotels. The kind where maids would organize your makeup every evening and morning for you. Places she’d only read about but never experienced.

Julia took her time, turning all the knobs and grinning when different jets kicked on, proving she was too easily amused. Turning to the side as she rubbed her hands over her eyes, she let her head fall back under the rain showerhead once more and—

Thump.

Julia stiffened as the water coursed down her skin. The noise sounded awfully close and it also sounded like a door hitting something—something like a wall. Her heart turned over heavily as a wave of tiny bumps rushed across her flesh. The feeling from earlier, when she was in the closet, slammed into her again.

She didn’t feel alone.

Slowly, she dragged her hands down her face and lowered her chin. Opening her eyes, she looked to the left. Someone stood on the other side of the tempered showered glass. Their details blurred but the shape was that of someone tall and broad. A startled gasp turned into a hoarse scream that sounded like a siren in her ears as she jerked back against the tile.

It happened so fast.

Her feet slipped over the pebbled rock of the shower floor. She tried to grab on to something, but only met air and slippery tile. Her legs went out from underneath her and then a blinding burst of pain lit up the side of her head and then there was nothing.

Chapter 10

“Ms. Hughes? Julia?”

The voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel. Confusion swamped her as she felt the steady fall of water disappearing. Cool air rushed in as warm fingers touched her shoulder and then gently slipped under the cheek that felt like it was plastered to . . . rock.

“I hope you open your eyes,” the deep male voice came again. “Because you’re really starting to worry me.”

Worry him?

Something dry was laid over her body, and it was then when she realized she was lying on her side. A steady throbbing sensation cleared away some of the cobwebs crowding her head. Blinking rapidly, her surroundings began to piece together through strands of hair matted to her face.

There was a man crouched in front of her.

She’d never seen this man before, but he was handsome. Really handsome. Dark shoulder-length hair tucked back behind the ears. A faint stubble covered a carved jawline. Her gaze tracked up over broad cheeks and straight nose, settling on blue-green eyes. This man looked like a younger . . . warmer version of Devlin.

“There you are.” He smiled, and it was a familiar half grin, that she wasn’t quite sure at the moment why it was familiar. A moment later, he brushed the strands of hair back from her face. “Looks like you took a pretty nasty hit to the head. Do you think you should sit up? Or should you stay where you are? You’d probably know this better than me.”




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