In the dimly lit room, Sinclair's expression softened as he gazed at Camilla's sleeping figure curled up on the bed.
Silently, he untied his robe and slipped in beside her with deliberate gentleness.
The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and Camilla seemed to sense his presence almost instantly.
Without opening her eyes, she instinctively shifted closer, nestling into the crook of his arm with practiced ease.
Her cheek pressed against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
*So she wasn't asleep after all.*
A faint smirk tugged at Sinclair's lips as he pretended not to notice the quiet sigh she had exhaled the moment he approached.
His dark eyes gleamed with quiet amusement. Wrapping an arm around her, he let his large, elegant hand glide soothingly down her back—slow, rhythmic strokes meant to lull her deeper into slumber.
Buried against him, Camilla allowed herself a tiny, secretive smile before finally surrendering to exhaustion.
