Camilla looked at his face. She saw the intense way he was staring at her.
She lowered her eyes back to his wrapped hand. She held his large hand gently in hers.
Then, Camilla leaned her head down again. She pressed her soft, warm lips directly against the white lace handkerchief covering his knuckles. She kissed the wrapped injury very softly.
Damon felt the light pressure of her lips through the cloth. A sudden, massive shock of heat traveled straight up his arm and directly into his chest. His entire body went completely stiff.
Camilla lifted her head. She looked at him again. Her expression was serious and calm.
"Be careful next ti," Camilla instructed him softly. Her voice sounded exactly like a wife scolding her husband for being reckless.
Damon was completely stunned. His brain simply stopped working. He stared at her soft lips. He stared at her eyes.
He blinked once.
He blinked twice.
He blinked thrice.
He slowly, chanically nodded his head up and down, completely srized by her touch. He could not find a single word to say. He just agreed to whatever she wanted.
Just then, outside the carriage, the horses moved quickly over a bad patch of the dirt road.
The wheel of the carriage hit a large, solid rock hidden in the dirt.
BANG!
The sudden impact was violent. The entire carriage jerked sharply to the side. The wooden box shook violently, lifting slightly off the ground before crashing back down.
Camilla completely lost her balance. She was sitting on the edge of the seat, facing him. The violent shake threw her body forward. She let out a small gasp as she fell out of her seat.
Damon’s reflexes activated instantly.
He did not even think. He moved with a protective speed.
Damon quickly reached out his left arm. He grabbed her firmly by the waist. At the sa ti, the force of the carriage shaking threw him forward as well.
Damon quickly moved to shield her. He twisted his broad body, ensuring she would not hit the walls or the sharp edges of the carriage door.
They fell together.
Camilla fell backward onto the wide, soft velvet seat on the opposite side of the carriage.
Damon fell directly with her. He landed with his hands planted firmly on the velvet cushions on either side of her shoulders, keeping his body weight completely off of her.
The carriage quickly steadied itself and continued rolling smoothly down the road.
But inside, everything was completely still.
Camilla was lying flat on her back on the velvet seat. Her red hair was spread out wildly over the cushions.
Damon was hovering directly on top of her. His arms were caging her in perfectly. His chest was just an inch away from her body.
They both stopped breathing. They both stared at each other for a very long mont.
The silence in the carriage was incredibly heavy. The only sound was the rhythmic thudding of the horses’ hooves outside.
Damon looked down at her face. They were so close. He could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. He could see the rapid, slight rise and fall of her chest as she took shallow breaths.
He looked into her wide eyes.
A deep, overwhelming, painful feeling suddenly filled Damon’s entire heart. It was a heavy, aching need. He wanted to pull her close. He wanted to hold her.
He noticed a few red stray curls had fallen across her pale cheek and over her eyes during the sudden fall.
Damon slowly lifted his right hand from the velvet cushion. He lifted the hand with the white lace handkerchief tied around the knuckles.
He wanted to reach down. He wanted to shift the stray curls away from her beautiful face. He wanted to help her arrange her ssy hair. He wanted to touch her soft skin with his fingers.
His hand hovered in the air, just an inch away from her cheek.
But all of a sudden, a cold realization crashed into his mind.
His hand froze.
He looked at her eyes. He rembered the past year. He rembered how he had banned her from entering his room. He rembered how cold he had been to her. He rembered how their one year of marriage had been. She did not love him. She was only pretending to care so she could survive.
Damon felt a sharp, bitter pain in his chest. He felt he didn’t have the right to touch her hair. He had not earned her true affection. He was a tyrant, and she was a prisoner in his house. He slowly, painfully pulled his hand back. He curled his fingers into a loose fist and placed his hand back down on the velvet cushion.
Camilla lay beneath him. She saw his hand reach out, and she saw him pull it back. She saw the deep, sad, yearning look in his eyes.
The tension was too thick. The closeness was too dangerous. She did not want to feel sorry for him. She did not want to get tangled in complicated emotions. She just wanted to finish her mission and leave this book.
Camilla broke the intense eye contact. She turned her head slightly to the side, looking away from his handso face.
She cleared her throat softly. She put her polite, distant, formal mask back on.
"I apologize, my lord," Camilla said quietly. Her voice was calm and completely respectful. "I will go back to my seat."
Hearing her polite, distant voice broke the spell completely. Damon snapped back to reality.
He blinked rapidly, looking confused for a second, as if waking up from a deep dream.
"Seat?" Damon asked. His deep voice sounded slightly lost and rough.
He looked around the small carriage. He realized he was hovering directly over her on the opposite side.
"Oh... yes," Damon stamred softly. He quickly pushed his body backward. "Your seat. That’s right."
He got off of her quickly. He moved back to his original side of the carriage and sat down heavily on his velvet cushion. He turned his head and stared blankly at the wall of the carriage. His chest felt incredibly tight and empty.
Camilla sat up on the seat. She smoothed down the wrinkled blue silk of her dress. She fixed her red hair, pushing the stray curls away from her face herself.
She got up and moved across the small space. She went back to her original seat, completely separating herself from him again.
The carriage was silent once more. The awkward tension filled the small space entirely.
Camilla leaned her elbow on the edge of the small window. She rested her chin in her hand. She looked out the window, watching the trees passing by.
Camilla whispered to herself, her voice so low that the sound of the rolling wheels hid her words.
"When will I go ho?"
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