Chapter 914

The front door burst open without warning.

Rosalind had returned.

"Rosalind!" she called out.

Rosalind startled, nearly tumbling off Lucian in her haste. "Lillian's back!"

Lucian's arm snaked around her waist, anchoring her in place. "You're not going anywhere."

"Have you lost your mind? She's right there! She's calling for me!"

Lillian's voice carried down the hall. "Rosalind? Where are you? Rosalind? Lucian?"

Now she was searching for both of them.

Heat flooded Rosalind's cheeks. If Lillian walked in and saw them like this, she'd never recover from the humiliation.

"Release me! She's looking for us—don't do this!"

Lucian leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Call her. Tell her you're staying with me tonight."

What?

"Absolutely not!"

His voice remained infuriatingly calm. "Which part? Calling her, or spending the night in my bed?"

He actually expected her to stay. Her pulse hammered wildly. "I said no!"

"Then let her come in. Is that what you want?"

"I—" Of course she didn't.

Footsteps approached. "Rosalind? Lucian? Are you here?"

She was getting closer.

Rosalind surrendered. Snatching her phone, she dialed Lillian.

"Hey, Rosalind," Lillian answered cheerfully. "Where'd you disappear to? I couldn't find you."

Rosalind shot Lucian a glare before responding. "I went home for the night. Get some rest—I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright! See you then."

The moment the call ended, Rosalind fixed Lucian with a withering look. "Satisfied?"

His lips curved. "Shall we resume?"

"Once," she stated firmly. "That's all you get tonight."

"No."

"Just once!"

"You don't make the rules here."

Dawn light filtered through the curtains when Rosalind stirred awake. Golden rays painted the room in soft hues. She checked the time—past eight. She'd overslept.

As she attempted to rise, she registered the solid warmth encircling her. Lucian still held her, his breathing even in sleep.

Memories of the previous night rushed back—his relentless intensity, her desperate pleas before he'd finally relented.

Her hand drifted to her abdomen. Everything felt normal. The baby was safe.

Relief washed over her as she studied Lucian's face. The sharp angles of his youth had matured into striking refinement.

Her fingers traced his features—the strong brow, the straight nose, those sculpted lips.

A sweet ache bloomed in her chest. If only time could freeze this moment.

But reality loomed.

She withdrew her hand.

A strong grip caught her wrist.

Lucian's eyes opened.