As he deftly navigated our car through a stream splashed over rocks and encircled by the sweet fragrance of French Lavenders, I anticipated a luscious release from everything but love. En route that sizzling summer day I held a silk fan in hand as my man drove us from Cannes to La Fargo, to an exquisite inn embodied as the intimate place of my dreamscape. The scent of a woman and a lust for life. We arrived at the medieval village of Saint-Pierre-Des-Champs in the south of France, 27 kilometers from the ancient town of Carcassone linking the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea, to celebrate a wedding anniversary at the twilight of a summer night.
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