“You’re a lot more brave than I am.”

“I’m not brave,” Julie said. “There’s no point in being scared of something if you know you can do it.” She draped the rope around her shoulder, and André gave her a boost. Shinnying out on the branch, she secured the rope. Okay, now what? She was turned the wrong way. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw the others watching her.

“How are you going to get down?” asked Martine.

“I should have figured that out before I climbed out here,” Julie said.

“Can you move backward?” André asked.

She attempted to scoot back on the branch, but it was too awkward. Turning around seemed a little sketchy. She looked down at the perfectly clear turquoise water far below, glittering in the hot summer sun. Then she let out a sigh. She still wore shorts and a tank top over her swimsuit. Everything was about to get totally wet.

“Only one way I can think of,” she said. Then she slung one leg over the branch and pushed off. The long, exhilarating drop was amazing. In those few moments, she felt as if she were flying. In those few moments, she could almost see her dad.

She plunged into the water feetfirst, letting the coolness engulf her, loving the deep silence of the sea. Hi, Dad, she thought, watching the sunlit blur of bubbles. I’m glad you’re part of this adventure.

With a slow scissor of her legs, she drifted upward, arching her back to look at the liquid silver surface above. Her dad had been fearless; at least that was what she remembered about him. She liked to imagine he would applaud her for being so adventurous this summer, making new friends and getting so good at French that she even spoke it in her dreams. I think you’d be proud of me.

She was about to break the surface when someone grabbed her arm. “Hey,” she said, twisting away from the phantom grip.

“Hey, yourself,” said Finn, treading water nearby. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you go in, and I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.” She paddled to the rocky edge of the inlet. “What are you doing here?”

“I came with your mom and Anouk’s family.”

“Mom’s here?” Oh shit, Julie thought. She’d told her mother they were going to a museum in Aix today. Mom would freak if she saw her jumping off cliffs and out of trees.

“She’s over there, on the beach,” Finn said, clearly unaware of Mom’s tendency to freak. “We took a break from all the research. It’s too hot to think.”

“Oh.” As she climbed out of the water, she hoped he didn’t start asking questions. Mom didn’t know about all the cliff jumping and rope swings. That kind of thing made her head explode from worrying.

He glanced at her wet clothes. “So did you fall in, or jump?”

She indicated the rope, dangling from the thick branch high above them. “After I hung up the rope, it was the only way down.”

“Seriously? Damn, Julie.”

Great, she thought. Was he a worrywart like her mom?

“That’s really cool,” he said.

All right, so he wasn’t a worrier. That was a good sign. She had liked Finn from the start, and she liked him even more now. And what she liked about him the most was how happy her mom was since they’d started going out.

She glanced at the beach in the distance. Her mom was busily digging in the sand with Anouk’s kids. “Want to give it a try?” she asked.

Camille watched Anouk’s husband, Daniel, playing in the surf with their kids. Home on leave from Africa, he reveled in family life. He was as handsome and serious as Anouk was romantic and bubbly, but when he was in the water with the kids, he cavorted like a little boy.

She took out Lisette’s old Exakta and framed a shot. It felt just right to be taking pictures again after a long dry spell in the wake of Jace’s death. That day in Gordes with Finn had been the turning point for her. Seeing the photos of one of her idols had reminded her of a truth she’d ignored for too long—life was beautiful and ephemeral, and a captured moment could last forever. Her long dry spell had ended. She remembered her passion for photography, leaping back into it with the kind of excitement she’d felt years ago.

If Finn had not pushed her, if he hadn’t all but dragged her into remembering her old dreams and passions, would she have rediscovered it on her own? Maybe, she thought, just maybe, Finn was good for her. Maybe she would tell him that. And then . . . well, that was the problem. Then what?

She set aside the question and gave her full attention to the camera and the subject. “They’re so excited,” she said to Anouk, clicking the shutter to capture the ecstasy on the little ones’ faces as their father chased them in the surf. “You have an adorable family.”

Anouk smiled. “Thank you. It’s wonderful to have him home. He will be back with us for good after one more six-month rotation. You know, there was a time when he couldn’t imagine leaving his homeland. Then he spent a summer here with my family, as you have, and now he yearns only for Bellerive. Maybe it will cast its spell on you.”

Camille did love the sun-drenched village. The pace of life, the golden light, the food and wine were only part of it. There was a spirit of creativity here that reached out to her—craftsmen honing their talents with single-minded focus—the forge of the knife maker, the ateliers where designers created jewelry and fashions, the artisans fabricating their wares for the markets, the antiques dealers rolling out artifacts from times gone by.

It was lovely. Camille couldn’t deny that—but it wasn’t home. Before long, she would be going back to Bethany Bay, and work, and real life. She’d bought some unique items for the shop—things as complex as sublimated fabric prints, or as simple as butter knives that stood on their own. Yes, there was a seductive spell that had woven itself around Camille. But as summer waned, her ties to home tugged at her.

With a sigh, she tucked away the camera and watched Daniel and the kids. “I always thought I’d have a bigger family. I’m not complaining,” she quickly added.

“You’ll have that with Finn,” Anouk assured her. “He comes from a large family, no?”

“I’m not—we’re not that serious.” Finn was a distraction. A fantasy, like the landscape itself. Their attraction was like the sunlight here—brilliant, but also fleeting. It was true that he made her laugh, and that every day with him seemed like a new adventure. And yes, he got her talking in a way she’d never talked to anyone before. He made her feel sexy and alive, and thanks to him, she was the photographer she’d always wanted to be.

Still, she knew they were both holding back. His heart was out of reach, just as Roz and Vivi had told her. And truth be told, so was hers. She hadn’t given her heart away since Jace, and she didn’t know if she could ever do that again.

“That’s not what I’ve seen happening this summer,” Anouk observed, adjusting her sunglasses. “To me, this looks like a relationship, not a fling.”

Camille glanced over at Anouk’s beach novel, this one with a cover that was both lurid and enticing. The couple held each other in an embrace that was physically impossible, yet their total absorption in each other was strangely compelling. “How’s the book?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Loving it,” Anouk said dreamily. “Books like this, they take me places I’ll probably never go. This one . . . ah, they’re in Hong Kong. So glamorous. But she has a wall. She keeps a wall around her heart to protect herself from getting hurt.”

“Smart girl.”

“No, she’s an idiot. And we’re not talking about Rosalinda.” Anouk set down the book.

“I don’t have a wall,” Camille said. “I have a life. A different life. It’s in a town the size of Bellerive, an ocean away. Finn’s life is here. We’re having a . . . it’s just for the summer. I have to go back. And he has to stay.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“Of course not. There’s really nothing to talk about.” Shading her eyes, she picked him out on the beach, his long, lean body gleaming with water and sunlight, wet board shorts plastered to his muscular thighs. With an undeniable flutter of attraction, she followed him with her gaze.