Chapter 88

Camille froze, her words catching in her throat. The situation felt awkward but not entirely unfamiliar.

They were married, after all. Over the years, they'd shared intimate moments like any other couple. Though she secretly wished Damien would fall for her, she'd never resorted to overt seduction.

Not because the thought hadn't crossed her mind. She simply knew such tactics wouldn't work on him.

That's why she always wore modest two-piece pajama sets at home. The oversized top she currently wore fell mid-thigh, perfectly decent even without the matching bottoms.

"I forgot my pants," she explained quickly, wanting to avoid any misunderstanding.

The loose cotton shirt should have been innocent enough. But Camille underestimated how the fabric draped over her curves. The high-low hemline accentuated her legs while certain movements hinted at more than intended.

Fresh from her shower, her skin glowed with natural radiance. The effect was unintentionally alluring - more provocative than any lingerie could be.

Damien glanced at her twice before looking away. "Okay," he said flatly.

Relieved he didn't seem affected, Camille turned toward the walk-in closet without another word.

When she returned properly dressed, Damien remained in the bedroom. Seeing no reason for conversation, she moved past him to her vanity.

Damien gathered his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the silence.

Camille completed her nighttime routine and slipped between the sheets. Unlike their first night sharing this bed, sleep didn't come easily tonight. His earlier promise weighed on her mind.

She lay awake for what felt like hours before Damien emerged from the bathroom. The lights clicked off, and the mattress dipped as he settled on his side.

The space between them felt vast despite the king-sized bed. Neither spoke as darkness enveloped the room.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed her.

Morning light revealed Damien's empty side of the bed. Camille dressed quickly and descended to find Helena already in the kitchen.

Before Helena could speak, the front door opened. Damien strode in, his gray workout clothes clinging to his damp skin. "Morning," he greeted his grandmother.

Helena's expression darkened. "You're both up early."

Camille frowned at the odd comment. Wasn't waking early a good thing?

Damien answered before she could. "I studied pharmacology, Grandmother. That soup you gave us last night? Doesn't work on me."

He disappeared upstairs without another word.

Camille's breath hitched. It took her two full seconds to comprehend his meaning - Helena had tried to drug them.