Damon stared down at her. His military discipline, his strict rules, and his cold heart completely and utterly failed him.

He was a healthy, fully grown man. He was standing inches away from his beautiful wife, watching her slowly untie her own dress in the dim candlelight, while she whispered his name.

Damon swallowed hard. The sound was loud in the quiet room. His throat felt like it was filled with dry sand.

His eyes, completely against his own strict will, dropped downward for a brief, highly dangerous second. He looked at the loosened blue silk ribbon resting against her chest.

At that exact same moment, his physical body reacted powerfully to her extreme closeness and her bold teasing.

Despite his best efforts to remain a cold, unfeeling statue, blood rushed quickly through his veins.

He and Camilla both noticed it at the exact same time.

There was a very distinct, very obvious small bump forming on the front of his dark blue military trousers. It was impossible to hide in the quiet, still room.

Camilla’s eyes darted downward, and then quickly back up to his face.

Damon realized what she was looking at.

Absolute, total, highly agonizing embarrassment crashed over him like a massive tidal wave.

Damon blushed violently. The heat rushed straight up his neck and flooded his face. Even the tips of his ears became a bright, burning, highly visible shade of red. The great General Damon looked exactly like a panicked, caught schoolboy.

He could not stay in this room for another single second. If he stayed, he was going to lose his mind completely.

Damon quickly pushed himself away from the stone wall. He sidestepped her rapidly, moving as far away from her soft body as possible.

"I am going to the study," Damon announced loudly. His voice was breathless, panicked, and much higher than his normal deep tone.

He did not wait for her to reply. He practically ran across the bedroom. He grabbed the brass handle of the door, yanked it open, and quickly left the room, pulling the door completely shut behind him with a loud BANG.

The master bedroom was completely quiet again.

Camilla stood alone in the center of the room. Her hands were still resting on the loosened silk ribbons of her corset.

She looked at the closed wooden door. She thought about his bright red ears and his panicked escape.

Camilla let out a loud, highly amused scoff.

She crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head slowly.

"Well," Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice completely practical and very funny. She remembered her own insulting thoughts from the previous nights. "At least, he can experience erection. That’s plausible."

She smiled a completely satisfied, victorious smile. Her theory was completely proven. He was not broken, and he was definitely not immune to her. He was just a very strict, very easily embarrassed man.

Now completely alone, Camilla finally relaxed.

She turned around and walked into the attached washroom. She fully undressed, pulling the heavy sapphire-blue dress off her tired body. She took a long, warm, very comfortable bath, washing away the dust of the city and the stress of the day.

After her bath, she dried her skin with a soft towel. She put on a clean, fresh, thin white silk nightgown.

She walked back into the main bedroom. She did not throw her clothes on the floor tonight. She neatly hung her blue dress over the wooden chair.

She climbed up onto the massive, soft wooden bed. She pulled the thick wool blankets all the way up to her chin. Because she was entirely alone, she stretched her arms and legs out wide, comfortably occupying the whole bed.

Within minutes, she was breathing slowly and deeply, sleeping peacefully in the quiet room.

A long time later, very late in the dark night, the door of the bedroom opened with a soft, quiet click.

Damon walked slowly back into the room.

He had spent the last two hours sitting in his study downstairs, staring blankly at his military maps, waiting for his racing heart to completely calm down and for his flushed face to return to its normal color.

He walked quietly across the wooden floorboards.

When Damon came back into the room, he looked toward the large bed.

He saw her sleeping peacefully. She was sprawled out comfortably, her red curly hair spread across the white pillows, completely occupying the whole bed.

Damon did not wake her. He did not say a word.

He walked silently into the washroom. He quickly stripped off his military uniform. He just went to have his own bath, washing the dirt and the stress of the long day away with cold water to ensure his body remained completely calm.

After his bath, he dried his hair and dressed in his loose, dark grey cotton sleeping trousers.

He walked back into the dim bedroom. The only light came from a single, small oil lamp burning on the table.

Damon walked over to his usual side of the room, near the large wardrobe. He prepared himself to sleep on the hard, cold wooden floorboards, just like he had done nights before.

But when he looked down, he stopped. He saw something completely unexpected.

Lying neatly on the floorboards, directly in his usual sleeping spot, was a large, incredibly thick, very soft wool blanket. It had been folded carefully to create a thick, warm cushion against the hard wood. A clean white pillow was resting perfectly at the top of the blanket.

Damon stared down at the makeshift bed.

He slowly turned his head. He looked over at Camilla’s sleeping form on the large mattress.

She had not said anything. She had not made a big deal out of it. But before she went to sleep, she had taken the time to ask Murry for an extra blanket and arranged it on the floor so he would not have to sleep on the freezing, hard wood.

He knew she was the one who brought a blanket for him. Uncle Murry would never make a bed on the floor for him.

Damon stood quietly in the dim light.

A very strange, very soft warmth spread slowly through his broad chest. It was not the panicked heat from earlier. It was a quiet, deep feeling of genuine appreciation. She was highly annoying, sarcastic, and completely chaotic, but she was not heartless. Maybe just a bit.

Damon looked back down at the thick blanket.

He arranged himself slowly. He laid his large, heavy body down onto the soft wool. It was much, much more comfortable than the hard floorboards. He rested his head on the clean white pillow.

He reached out his long arm and turned the small dial on the oil lamp. The flame flickered and died, plunging the room into peaceful darkness.

Damon closed his dark eyes. He listened to the soft, rhythmic sound of Camilla breathing on the bed across the room. He let out a long, quiet sigh, and finally went to sleep.