A gentle, warm feeling spread through his broad chest. He liked hearing her hum. It meant she was happy. It meant she was relaxed.
He walked slowly over to the other side of the room, near his own dressing table. He wanted to freshen up before she came out.
Damon raised his hands. He slowly pulled off his riding gloves, crease by crease, and dropped them onto the wooden table. Then, he unbuttoned his military coat, pulled it off his broad shoulders, and hung it carefully over the wooden stand.
Next, he reached for the collar of his white linen shirt. He unbuttoned the shirt quickly, pulled it off his arms, and dropped it onto the chair, leaving his broad, heavily muscled, and scarred chest completely bare. The cool evening air felt good against his hot skin. He picked up a soft white towel, ready to wash his face.
Suddenly, the door of the bathing room clicked open.
A thick, warm cloud of white steam rolled out into the bedroom, carrying the sweet, clean scent of lavender soap.
