Chapter 903

Rosalind inhaled deeply, steadying her racing pulse before nodding. "Alright."

She followed Lillian out of the bedroom.

Lucian had prepared an elaborate spread. His culinary skills were impeccable—each dish looked and smelled divine. Rosalind's gaze instantly locked onto the lemon-drizzled fish tacos with avocado crema. Just the sight made her mouth water.

Ever since her pregnancy began, she'd developed an insatiable craving for citrusy flavors. This dish was perfection.

Lillian surveyed the table. "Fish tacos with lime crema, tomato bisque, garlic mashed potatoes with chive oil... Lucian, why so much zest today?"

Lucian silently arranged the cutlery without responding.

Lillian suddenly gasped, smacking her forehead. "Oh! Of course. You noticed Rosalind's been craving tangy foods lately, so you made all this for her, didn't you?"

Rosalind's breath hitched. She stole a glance at Lucian—had he really done this for her?

Lucian neither confirmed nor denied it. "I'll get the bisque. Start eating."

Then he disappeared into the kitchen.

Lillian shot Rosalind a knowing smirk. "Not so terrible, is he?"

Rosalind remained quiet. "Not terrible" was a gross understatement—he was extraordinary.

Leaning closer, Lillian whispered, "I can tell something happened between you two. But look how he's trying now—maybe give him another chance?"

Rosalind offered a faint smile. The truth was, they'd already ended things.

She'd been adamant about their breakup, and Lucian had clearly moved on. He was with Genevieve now... and had recently followed Vivian Astor on Instagram. Beautiful women surrounded him constantly.

Just then, Lillian's phone buzzed.

"Gotta take this."

She hurried to her room to answer.

Lucian emerged from the kitchen. "Where's Lillian?"

"On a call," Rosalind replied.

Lucian gave a slight nod.

When she saw him carrying the steaming bisque, Rosalind instinctively reached out. "Let me help—"

Her fingertip grazed the scorching pot, and she jerked back with a sharp gasp.

"Ah—!"

Lucian set the soup down and immediately seized her hand. "Are you hurt?"

Rosalind shook her head. "It's nothing."

Gently, Lucian guided her to the sink. "Run it under cold water."

He turned the faucet on, cradling her reddened finger beneath the stream.

"Still burning?" he murmured.

Rosalind shook her head again. "No."

Lucian shut off the water, examining her pinkened skin. "I told you not to touch hot things. Now look what happened."

Then, without warning, he lowered his head and drew her fingertip into his mouth.

Rosalind's lashes fluttered. She hadn't expected that.

Heat flooded her cheeks. The intimacy of the gesture—something only lovers did—sent her pulse skyrocketing.

She yanked her hand back. "I'm fine now."

Lucian's gaze locked onto hers.

Flustered, Rosalind mumbled, "I'll go back to the table."

She turned to leave.

But Lucian's long fingers encircled her wrist. In one swift motion, he pulled her against his firm chest.

Rosalind looked up in shock. "Lucian, wha—mmph!"

Darkness swallowed her vision as Lucian cradled her face and kissed her.

Her mind blanked completely.

If that drunken kiss had been a mistake, if he'd thought she was someone else that night...

Then what was this? Why was he kissing her now?