Damien prepared the bathwater and ushered Chloe onto a chair. Because the cabin lacked the palace’s opulent baths, he had to light a fire to heat the water by hand. Wisps of steam rose from the large vessel.
Damien took a scoop of the warm water and gently poured it over Chloe’s exposed neck. The water flowed over the sprinkling of freckles on her neck before gliding over her alabaster skin, untouched by the sun’s rays.
“Is the water too hot?”
“A little, but it feels nice.”
Damien’s fingers brushed lightly against the nape of Chloe’s neck, eliciting a subtle shiver from her. Observing her body flinch at his touch, he bit his lip contemplatively. Her back, vulnerable in its nakedness, was palpably tense.
“Chloe,” Damien said, suppressing a laugh. “My love, I am your husband.”
“Yes, and that will never change.”
“Then, pray tell, why are you so nervous?”
