Page 22 of Love in Bloom

Her phone dinged. “Thank you.” She stepped to the sliding glass doors. “I’ll wait for you on the balcony.”

♥ ♥ ♥

Tristan chewed his bottom lip. Could that have gone any worse? Camille thought he would take advantage of her as payment for the trip. Obviously she didn’t trust him, and he had no idea what he’d done to damage the trust he thought they had. Of course, Camille was a woman of business, so maybe she viewed the trip as a business arrangement. In that case, she’d be within her rights to pay for her share.

He rubbed his fingers over his lips and set to the task of unpacking his suitcase. Five minutes later, the drawers were full, and his toiletry case was stowed under the sink in the bathroom.

He joined Camille on the balcony. “All set. Shall we go?”

“Yes.”

They exited the hotel suite and descended the elevator.

When they stepped out, Tristan took her hand.

Startled, she looked at their hands, and then whispered to him, “What are you doing?”

“Holding your hand,” he said low in her ear.

“Yes, I know that, but why?”

“We’re supposed to be newlyweds on our honeymoon. We have to act the part. People in love hold hands.”

“You’re right, but they usually do it this way.” Camille intertwined their fingers.

Tristan vainly tried to ignore the sensations coursing through him at the simple touch of their palms pressed together and their fingers interlaced. He’d been married less than eight hours, and already he felt more comfortable with Camille than he ever had with his wife, even if this scenario was pretend.

They wandered the hotel and grounds, locating all the usual amenities, and Tristan filled her in on their itinerary.

“It’s pretty grueling,” Camille remarked.

“I think we’re up to the task.” Tristan snagged a cookie from the jar near the front desk.

“Aren’t you afraid of ruining your dinner?” she asked.

“Dessert first. Then I can fill in the cracks with all the nutritious stuff.” He held the half-eaten cookie out. “Want some?”

The desire for the sweet was obvious on her face, yet she hesitated.

“One bite won’t kill you.”

She looked up at the ceiling. “You are going to be the death of me. Breaking all the dietary rules the doctor laid down.” She took the bite and a smear of chocolate landed in the corner of her mouth.

Tristan wanted to wipe it off … with his lips. Best to tread lightly. It was only day one. “Yes, about that. I think we should do a bit of research.”

She frowned as they ascended the elevator to their room. “I’m not allowed to do research. It’s on my list of banned activities. Connor even confiscated my laptop, and I loathe doing research on my phone. The screen is so small.” Her frown deepened.

Tristan wanted her smile back. “We can use my laptop.”

A gleam came into her eye. “Really?”

“Of course.” Tristan held the room door open for her. “You get dressed first. I can be ready in five minutes. You women take loads longer.”

“How do you know I can’t be ready in five minutes?” She put a hand on her hip, drawing Tristan’s eyes to the slight curve there.

“Can you?” A desire to set his hand on hers and feel the curve of her body under his fingers assaulted him. Get a grip, man.

She dropped her hand. “Well, no. But all you blokes have to do is throw on your trousers, button your shirt, and tighten your tie, and you’re done. We women have zippers, buckles, hair, and makeup to do. It takes work to look this beautiful.” She indicated the length of her willowy body with her hands.

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