Lucian examines the amber liquid. “You made these for me?”
“I know you’re busy with...whatever crisis is keeping you away from bed until all hours. I thought maybe I could help.”
Something shifts in his expression, his eyes darkening. “Is this your way of telling me I’m neglecting you?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “I’m not telling you anything. I’m just—”
But he’s already setting the vials aside and rising from the bed, that sublime grace I know so well evident in his every movement.
“Because if you wanted my attention, Astra,” he says, his voice dropping to a low rumble that makes my pulse skip, “all you had to do was ask.”
I scramble backward across the bed, but he follows, his hands braced on either side of my hips as he leans over me.
“Lucian, I just meant—”
“I know what you meant.”
