Page 23 of Love in Bloom

The temptation to follow the course of her hands ripped through him, and Tristan forced himself to look her in the eye. “I think you always look beautiful.”

Camille threw up her hands and stomped into the bedroom.

“Take all the time you need, darling.” Tristan chuckled and fired up his laptop.

Camille shut the doors.

Time with Camille would never be dull. He could get used to married life.

♥ ♥ ♥

Camille moved swiftly through her dinner preparations. She couldn’t make the five-minute deadline, but she could certainly do better than whatever time frame Tristan might be thinking.

She reached for the zipper on her dress and tugged, but it wouldn’t budge. She frowned and turned her back to the mirror, looking over her shoulder to see if she could discover the problem. The fabric was snagged on the zipper. She huffed out a breath and attempted to lower the zipper to try again. Stuck. Perfect. There was only one solution. Giving her makeup and hair a quick once-over, she headed to the living space.

Tristan was hunched over the laptop, engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

She decided it was her turn to play a joke on him. She tiptoed to the back of the sofa and placed her hands on his shoulders while yelling, “Boo!”

Tristan jumped up, barely missing her head, and spun around with his arms raised in a defensive stance. His face was void of color, and sheer panic was in his eyes.

Alarmed by his reactions, Camille bolted backward toward the bedroom, her heart rate thudding in her ears. She covered her heart with one hand. “Oy, what did you do that for?”

Tristan’s chest heaved with every breath. He took several breaths before answering. “Sorry, Camille. I didn’t mean to frighten you. You gave me a good scare though.” His body shook.

“I only meant it as a bit of fun, not to have the daylights scared out of both of us.” She’d never seen anyone react like that.

He looked toward the window, lowering his hands. “I don’t do well with sneak attacks or sudden loud noises.”

“I should say not.” Camille stepped back into the room. “I’ll remember not to do either in the future.” She watched him work on regaining control. She would’ve chalked it up to a PTSD episode that veterans had but didn’t know whether Tristan had ever been in combat. Another piece of his background she should inquire about, but later. Not in this moment when they were both recovering from fight-or-flight mode.

“Did you need something?” Color crept back into his face.

“Actually, yes. My zipper is stuck on the fabric. Can you fix it for me, please?” She turned and indicated her back.

Tristan approached.

Her heart beat faster again, but not from the scare this time. Her skin was exposed, and though Tristan had seen her in her swim costume for days this was different. More intimate. His fingertips brushed the small of her back as he examined the issue. A shiver thrilled through her.

“Sorry, my hands are cold.” He blew on them and rubbed them together before tackling the task at hand.

“Mmm. Cold,” she murmured. Another shiver rippled through her body at his touch. Her crush rapidly advanced toward the next level, attraction. She felt the fabric of the dress tugging as he worked to move the jammed zipper either up or down.

Several heartbeats later, he freed the zipper and raised it to the top of the gown at the level of her shoulder blades. His fingertips trailed over her shoulders and down her arms.

Camille could hardly get breath. Gooseflesh broke out all over her body. Every hair stood on end. Her whole being was on high alert.

“There.” Tristan’s voice rumbled low in her ear as his breath warmed the skin on her neck. “Fixed it.”

She managed to say “thank you.” She didn’t move, couldn’t move.

Tristan remained in place, his mouth inches from her skin. Tension crackled in the air, building as the moment stretched.

Camille thought she would shatter if he didn’t take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. Forget this pretense. Forget dinner. Her craving for him drove out all sensible thought as she waited for the moment his lips touched her.

She felt his body heat leave her when he stepped back. Camille wanted to scream in frustration. Her hands curled inward. She pressed her fingertips into her palms.

“I should get dressed.” His voice was soft, almost regretful.

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