Chapter 169: Chapter Hundred And Sixty Eight

Damon’s jaw clenched tightly for a second. The pain in his toes was sharp, but he kept his face perfectly calm. He did not pull his foot away. He simply smiled a very small, strained smile.

"It’s fine," Damon whispered. "Try again. Step back with your right foot."

Camilla took a step back. But because she was nervous and her body was stiff, her timing was completely off.

Stomp.

"Oh, my apologies!" Camilla whispered quickly, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink from pure embarrassment. "I’m so sorry, My Lord."

"It is quite alright, My Lady," Damon replied, his voice still incredibly patient. "Just relax your shoulders. Move like water."

For the next three minutes, the grand waltz was a complete, hilarious disaster. Camilla stepped on his left foot. She stepped on his right foot. She tripped slightly over the hem of her own dress, almost falling forward into his chest. Every single movement was accompanied by a soft, frantic "sorry" or "pardon me" from her pink lips.

Damon gritted his teeth against the pain in his toes. His boots were strong, but her sharp heels were finding the exact same spots over and over again.

Yet, he did not let go of her waist. He held her securely, guiding her gently through the steps, his body absorbing her clumsy movements perfectly.

Slowly, after many steps and many apologies, Camilla’s physical reflexes finally began to kick in. Her body began to know how to balance. Her muscles began to adapt to a rhythm.

She stopped looking down at her feet. She looked up at his chin.

She caught the tempo of the music. She relaxed her shoulders.

Suddenly, her steps became smooth. She stopped tripping. She began to glide effortlessly across the floor, her silk dress swirling beautifully around her legs as they spun. They moved together in perfect harmony, gliding like water under the bright crystal lights.

Damon watched her face. He saw her red curls bouncing gently against her pale neck. He felt the light, soft weight of her hand in his. He felt her small waist under his palm.

Damon thought to himself, his internal voice filled with a deep, quiet, and overwhelming emotion.

"Since she came into my life, I have never had a single day of peace," Damon thought, a warm feeling spreading slowly through his chest. "She has turned my house upside down. She has broken my rules. She has made me sleep on the floor."

He looked at her hazel, sparkling eyes.

"And yet," his thoughts continued, his heart beating in a rapid, fluttering rhythm that had absolutely nothing to do with the physical exercise. "My heart is fluttering again. My toes are hurting me terribly from her sharp shoes, but I never want this dance to end. I am completely losing this war against her."

Camilla looked up into his dark brown eyes. She saw the intense, warm, and highly affectionate look in his gaze. He was looking at her as if she were the only woman in the entire world.

Camilla thought to herself, her internal voice turning slightly frantic.

"He looks even more handsome like this," Camilla’s thoughts ran wildly inside her head. "His jaw is so sharp. His eyes are so warm. Is this what the books mean when they talk about looking at a person with such deep affection in their eyes?"

She felt a sudden, dangerous warmth spreading through her stomach. She felt her face grow warm.

"No, no, no!" Camilla quickly scolded herself internally, her mind shaking her awake. "Wake up, girl! What are you doing? You almost made yourself sound poetic! You do not fall in love with fictional characters!"

She forced her eyes to look away from his handsome face. She looked past his broad shoulder, searching the crowd of guests to distract her mind.

"There are many other handsome, wealthy men in this room," Camilla thought, trying to convince herself. "Don’t be deceived by his good looks and his warm hands."

As she spun near the edge of the dance floor, her gaze fell onto a large white pillar near the wall.

Standing there, holding a crystal glass of red wine, was Allen. Allen looked very handsome in his neat suit, his dark brown hair perfectly styled. He was watching the dancers with a polite, friendly smile.

Camilla’s thoughts continued, her internal voice completely honest.

"Allen is quite good-looking too," Camilla thought to herself, comparing the cousins in her head. "He has a much softer, much more polite face. He is probably much easier to talk to."

Damon stood in the middle of the dance floor. He was holding her close.

And because he could read her mind, he heard her entire, comparing thought. He heard her call Allen good-looking. He heard her suggest that his cousin was better than him.

A sudden wave of possessive jealousy instantly flooded straight into Damon’s brain. The heat rushed up his neck, turning his ears a bright, furious red.

His eyes completely blackened with a silent, murderous fire.

He was not going to let her look at another man. He was not going to let her compare him to his cousin.

Damon acted instantly.

He tightened his large hand on her waist. He did not hurt her, but he pulled her body forcefully forward.

With one sudden, powerful movement, Damon pulled Camilla completely flush against his broad, muscular chest. Their bodies hit each other, leaving absolutely no space between them.

Camilla snapped out of her thoughts instantly. She let out a short, surprised gasp. Her hands clamped tightly around his shoulders for support as the sudden movement threw her off balance.

Damon did not stop. He used his strength to spin her gracefully through a fast, sweeping turn.

He held her waist tightly, trapping her against his hard chest. He lowered his head. He brought his mouth directly, dangerously close to her ear.

His hot breath brushed against her skin, sending a violent shiver straight down her spine.

"Lady Camilla is truly fickle," Damon whispered. His deep voice was incredibly low, rough, and filled with a dark, threatening tease.

Camilla looked up at him. She saw the look in his eyes. She did not know what to call it but she loved seeing him lose his cool composure.

Camilla smiled a wide, mischievous, and beautiful smile.

She slowly raised her arms. She wrapped her hands completely, affectionately around his neck, pulling herself even closer to his chest. She tilted her head, her lips inches from his.

"How could that be," Camilla purred softly, her eyes sparkling with playful danger, "when I only have eyes for my husband?"

Damon stared down at her lips. He saw her beautiful, teasing smile. He felt the soft touch of her hands on his neck.

He let out a very small, highly satisfied, and proud smirk. He knew she was teasing him, but he did not care.

With a final, elegant spin, Damon pulled her up.

The waltz music slowly died away. The violins stopped playing. The dance ended.

They stood together in the middle of the crowded ballroom, panting slightly, their bodies still pressed closely together under the bright light of the crystal chandeliers, while the crowd of nobles began to applaud loudly around them.