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.

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

her head. "Let's go see

"Sure, which one do you want to see? I'll rent out

money, but there's no need to go overboard. Why rent out the whole theater for

and

motioning for him to get up

where he saw his underwear hanging on the clothes rack. He felt a deep sense of belonging, like he was the rightful man

opened, and Camila

had changed into a long dress, its hem swaying like ripples in a pond, stunningly

in his eyes. He gently wrapped his arms around her waist

too," Camila smiled

coat and draped it over her shoulders. "It's

going to put on some makeup. You go lie down

Connor said as he

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