Page 34 of Love in Bloom

“Quite a little waterfall, as they go,” Tristan remarked.

“But the sound is pleasant, and the water looks inviting.”

“I don’t think it’s meant for bathing, Camille. Not to mention you’d have to go in your birthday suit since you aren’t wearing your swim costume. Not that I wouldn’t admire the view.” He winked at her.

Camille was certain her face was scarlet and not due to the heat of the day. “You’d have the same dilemma,” she shot back cheekily and raised a brow at him.

Tristan’s cheeks filled with color all the way to the tips of his ears.

“I’d certainly be getting an eyeful if we went skinny dipping,” she added, and then resumed their stroll. Tristan caught up with her and took her hand. They passed through more areas of interest before arriving at the midpoint at the esplanade. “The ball hedges might be my favorite. Can you imagine the time it takes to craft a hedge into a sphere? We’ve been to two gardens so far with expertly manicured hedges and topiaries. I wonder why we don’t do more of this style at home? I think Mum would love a garden trimmed up in this manner. What about your mum?”

Tristan worried his lower lip between his teeth. “Perhaps.”

Camille turned her head away in an attempt to get her brain to stop thinking about what it would be like to have Tristan’s lips against hers. “What’s next on the tour?”

A change of topic was always a good distraction. The more time she spent with Tristan, the more her desperation grew for distraction. He was far too tempting, and Camille’s connection to him grew with every hour spent in his company. She was treading dangerous waters and wasn’t sure how much longer her self-restraint could hold. They still had several more gardens to tour and nights to spend together.

Tristan pointed to two points on the map. “To the south of us is La Via Ferrata, where the tourists scale the cliffs, and to the north is the arches.”

“I wouldn’t mind scaling the cliffs, but I don’t think we have the time, nor did we book in advance. Let’s walk through the arches. It’ll be like an outdoor chapel.” The wedding march played in her head, and she brushed it aside. She wasn’t a bride, and Tristan wasn’t her groom. But her heart whispered that she wanted it to be so.

They made their way under the wooden arches and dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. They passed through the rotunda to arrive at the chapelle.

The wedding march made its presence known again. “It’s so small, nearly miniature. I bet you could hardly put a dozen people inside,” Camille remarked as she took in the gray structure with a tiny rosette window.

“There’s something miniature I think you’ll like even better.” Tristan guided her along the path, their palms sweating one against another. “Voilà! The labyrinthe des enfants.”

“It’s darling!” Camille ran her hand over a hedge. “A child’s maze. Shall we see who can make it to the end first?”

“I think our height will give us away.”

“Still, it will be fun. I’ve always loved mazes.”

“You’re on, then.”

They entered, and at the first fork, Camille went right and Tristan went left. Keeping Tristan in her sights was easy, not walking into hedges while she did so was hard. More than once, the fabric of her dress snagged on a freshly trimmed twig, and she had to extricate herself from the greenery. She studied his gait and profile. He walked with confidence, and, for the first time, Camille noticed the barest trace of a limp. How had she not seen it before, and what had caused it? She doubled back at a dead end. Tristan’s strong jawline attracted her attention as he concentrated. His Welsh blood showed in his facial features. She could picture him, broadsword in hand, fighting off the marauders attacking his castle. The flecks in his brown eyes flashed along with the blade in his hand. She’d be beside him, decked out in armor. She wasn’t afraid to fight to defend her home and her man.

Camille shook her head to clear the daydream. They were navigating a children’s maze in France, not protecting their Welsh castle. Their. The word stuck like a burr in her brain. She wanted that word to be true.

“Camille, I made it.”

Tristan stood in the center of the maze, a few hedges away from her. “I think if you take a left and a right, we’ll be together again.”

Together. Her heart groaned. She wanted together, not pretend. But there were so many obstacles: continents, oceans, and his enigmatic past.

She pasted on a smile and followed his directions. They were reunited once more.

“Perhaps it would be best to make our way out together?” He took her hand in his.

She nodded, letting Tristan lead the way as she tried to assemble her thoughts back into rational order. Once out of the maze, they caught the full heat of the sun as they walked the broad path through the allée des romarins and into the chaos de buis.

“It’s like another maze.” Camille fanned herself with her hand.

“Water?” Tristan handed her his bottle. She’d finished hers back at the chapelle.

“Thanks.” She gulped greedily.

“Save some for me,” he protested with a laugh.

---