Laura had the good sense to lead the styling team out, leaving the expansive room hushed and empty, save for Julian and Francesca.

He turned his wife toward him, pressing a broad palm gently against her cheek. Slowly, deliberately, he brushed his hand along her skin, his movements uncharacteristically tender. It was the first time he had studied her face like this, his dark eyes tracing every feature as though committing it to memory.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his ...