Stefan (The Marquette Family Book Three) by Tressie Lockwood Page A

passed through double French doors onto the plushest carpet her feet had ever sunk into. She blinked at the massive bed and the heavy cherry wood furniture. This was luxury, and Stefan didn’t seem to notice. The bedroom was so huge it could be sliced up into three rooms, and from the doorway to her left she looked in on another space that was big enough to be a bedroom. Living room furniture outfitted this one. Beyond that lay a ridiculously oversized bathroom with his and her sinks.
    “Are you serious with all this?” she questioned him.
    His eyebrows rose. “You don’t like it? I suppose we could use one of the guest bedrooms.”
    “No, I mean… oh never mind. It’s fine.”
    He strode over to her and caressed her arms. “Let me help you out of your clothes, and then I’ll give you a bath and get you into bed.”
    Not a hint of desire showed in his expression. He was really worried about her health.
    She wriggled away from his touch because bad thoughts did fill her mind, and every muscle already ached. “I can do it. Thanks.”
    “Licia, don’t try to be strong on your own. I’m here for you.”
    “I know.” She moved farther away and began unbuttoning her blouse. When his gaze locked on her chest, she turned from him. “Please, Stefan. I’m tired. I just want to be alone. I promise if I need anything I’ll call you.”
    She lied because she wasn’t going to call him or anyone else. Well, unless she collapsed on the floor, but her injuries weren’t that severe. She had already gotten the report that Chez was dead along with one of the bouncers. A couple others were hurt, and no one had heard from Kevin. This whole mess was his fault, and when she found him, she’d make him wish he had left New Orleans and never come back.
    The door shut silently behind her, and her shoulders slumped as she sat on the bed. She felt bad for lying to Stefan and pushing him away, but she meant what she told him. If he were caught up in the middle of this craziness, she didn’t know what she would do. She loved him, but Stefan didn’t seem to understand he was a musician billionaire who knew nothing of what she had to deal with growing up.
    So what he used to be poor. That cutthroat look wasn’t there, the hardness that came from clawing out of poverty and getting loose from the people who would hold a person down. All she saw when she looked into Stefan’s eyes was sunshine. That was okay with her from the first time she met him because it warmed her. Not to mention the touch of his hands and his body.
    She groaned, missing him, wishing she had taken him up on the offer to bathe her. He’d probably be good at spoiling her. “No, get a grip, Talicia. We’re only here for a little while.”
    The insurance would kick in, she would get a big fat check, and she would redo the club. No problem. After that, she would convince Kevin to go away and leave them alone. Then she would hire better security. Maybe Jerome knew some people. She would have to sacrifice the extra money to pay them higher wages. No problem.
    Talicia slept most of the afternoon and then spent the evening with her stomach in knots waiting for Stefan’s family to show up. Not one of them stopped by. In fact, as the three of them—her, Stefan, and Tyjon—sat at the dinner table eating late because she had slept a long time, Stefan didn’t even get a call or text.
    She looked over at him as he sat at the head of the table being served by his maid. Jerome was nowhere in sight and neither were the other guards, but Stefan had told her all of them were around. She had never had so many people in the place where she lived.
    “Can I have some more of that chicken too, Mary?” Tyjon gushed. “Everything is so good. I’m going to have to stay here forever.”
    The maid thanked Tyjon for his compliment and dished him more chicken. Talicia glared at him, but her brother was too busy smacking his lips and moaning. She rolled her eyes and turned to