"Don't look so stiff," the photographer said. "Miss, lean back into him slightly. Relax your shoulders. That's your husband, not a stranger."
Bella's cheeks were burning.
She did as told, leaning back, but it was too much. His chest was pressed to her back now, warm and strong. She could feel the rise and fall of his breath. She didn't dare look at him.
"Perfect. Now tilt your head just a little—yes, like that. You're about to kiss, but don't actually do it."
Kiss?
Her heart thudded so hard she was scared it might explode. Leonardo hadn't said a word, but she could feel the way his gaze slid down to her lips. His hand on her waist didn't move, but it tightened slightly, like he was grounding her—or maybe grounding himself.
"Hold it."
Click.
Bella blinked up at him for a moment, caught in the stillness, in the almost-intimacy.
The photographer lowered his camera. "Good. Very believable."
