"Jane." Bastian's voice was a low, gentle whisper in her ear.

She stirred, and her lashes fluttered up.

"Was I asleep?" she murmured. She was reclined on the couch, and Bastian was sitting on the edge, one hand braced on the back of the couch by her head as he leaned over. Worried lines marred his brow.

"Yes, I just came to fetch you. It's nearly two in the morning. You must be tired. Let me take you to your room." He brushed stray tendrils of her hair back and ...