CHAPTER 148
"Did I... did I do something wrong? Don't you want me?"
The silence that followed her question was more deafening than the roar of the shower had ever been.
Lucian stood several feet away, his back pressed so hard against the far marble wall that it looked as though he were trying to merge with the stone itself.
His chest was heaving in gulps, the muscles of his torso rippling with an intensity as if he had just run a marathon through the very pits of hell.
His wet trousers were still unzipped, the dark, heavy fabric hanging precariously low on his waist, revealing the sharp, tensed lines of his pelvic bones and the flushed, angry red of his skin.
"No," he rasped but couldn't even bring himself to look at her; his gaze was fixed rigidly on the flooded marble floor, watching the last of the pink-tinted water swirl and disappear down the drain.
He looked haunted, his eyes shadowed by a self-loathing that was almost physical in its weight.
