Chapter 68
Chapter 68
Jeannie bustled around like a busy bee, fussing over Gwendolyn’s dress, fluffing the layers of white tulle to perfection.
Roselind, arm in arm with Jameson, watched with a contented smile. “We were just like them in our younger days, she said.,
Jamesch gazed fondly at his wife, “For our thirtieth anniversary, I’ll take you abroad for a vow renewal photoshoot. Can’t believe the kids are all grown up. I’m not ready to be old yet.”
Roselind pinched his arm playfully, “You better not be sneaking any of those pills Nathan gave you.”
*I promise, I won’t,” Jameson pleaded, rubbing his arm.
The studio resonated with the sound of camera shutters.
“Get a bit closer. Relax your posture, bride, lean in.”
The photographer barked instructions, “Groom, wrap your arm around the bride’s waist.”
As their poses grew more intimate, Gwendolyn’s cheeks blazed as if brushed with the boldest rouge. She moved in closer, almost tumbling into Howard’s embrace.
His palm was warm against her waist, the heat seeping through the fabric of her gown.
The photographer snapped away, capturing their closeness.
“Now, face each other, and cuddle up, forehead to forehead.”
With the groom’s unique situation, the photographer had Gwendolyn stand in front of Howard, wrapping their arms around each other. She was to bow her head and touch her forehead to Howard’s.
Gwendolyn’s face felt like it was on fire.
“Mr. Chadwick,” she whimpered, seeking rescue.
“Just bear with it,” he whispered, a playful glint in his eyes, “Come here.” RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only
He tugged her hand around his waist as she edged closer, her head slowly tilting down to meet his forehead.
Their noses grazed each other and his scent, warm and reassuring, awakened a deep, instinctive stir within her. They were so close now, their lips a breath away from touching.
“Perfect. Hold that. Bride, tighten your grip, don’t be shy.” The photographer circled them, looking for the
best shots.
Jeannie, unable to contain her excitement, sneakily snapped pictures on her phone to share on her social
media.
Howard and Gwendolyn were just picture–perfect.
“Last pose, then we’ll switch gowns,” the photographer said, pleased with the raw images. Beauty and handsomeness made his job easy.
His assistant scattered a basket of fresh petals on the carpet, guiding Gwendolyn to sit among them, carefully arranging her dress around her.
“The groom’s condition is special, so we’ll need the bride to sit for this shot. Make it look natural.”
“Groom, move in closer.”
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He framed the shot, giving further Instructions.
“In a moment, bride, you’ll turn slightly, and groom, you’ll lean in as if to kiss her.”
A kiss? Gwendolyn’s eyes widened in shock.
No one had wamed her about a kissing shot, especially not in front of so many people.
“Petals ready, reflector up.” At the photographer’s command, assistants tossed rose petals into the air.
Howard leaned down, drawing nearer.
Gwendolyn’s body tensed, unable to move.
*Endure this, Gwendolyn. It’ll be over soon. It’s my parents‘ wish,” he murmured, his calm voice belying the mischief in his heart.
She felt a feather–light kiss on her forehead.
“Cut. The photographer frowned, “I want a passionate French kiss. Make it steamy, and intense. This isn’t something I need to teach you. A kiss on the forehead, that’s too bland for memories, lacks passion.”
They were married, after all. What was to be shy about?
Jeannie’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Gwendolyn’s head spun, nerves jittery as if she were a deer caught in headlights. “Mr. Chadwick, I can’t do
this.”