Camila glanced at the green light on the digital thermometer and smiled, "It's almost 6 PM."

She set the thermometer back on the nightstand. "Your fever's gone."

Connor sighed in relief. "Great, let's go shopping."

"All your clothes are washed, but we don't have a dryer, so you don't have anything to wear."

Connor paused, a bit taken aback. All his life, his clothes had always been taken care of by servants. He never thought the woman he loved would wash them by hand. A wave of warmth washed over him. He gently took Camila's hand, feeling its slight chill, and a surge of tenderness filled his heart.

He tucked her hand under the covers and whispered, "Thank you for doing this. Don't bother next time; it breaks my heart."

Camila chuckled and teased, "I could've just used the washing machine, but your clothes are too fancy for that."

"I'll wash your clothes from now on," Connor said earnestly.

He picked up his phone from the nightstand, lay back on Camila's legs, and quickly sent a message.

looking up at her with a gentle expression, he said, "I've got some clothes on the way. Let's go out for a nice dinner and buy you some

shook her head. "Let's go see a

"Sure, which one do you want to see?

need to go overboard. Why rent

her nose and said, "Alright,

said, motioning for him to get up while she

balcony, where he saw his underwear hanging on the clothes rack.

bathroom door opened, and Camila

a long dress, its hem

his eyes. He gently wrapped

think so too," Camila

a coat and draped it over her shoulders. "It's cold out, wear

You

as he held her

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