Touch of the Camera Read Online Free Page A

under his touch, forcing more life into each cell. My breath stilled and I had to tell myself to breathe before I passed out. When I did inhale, it was very shaky, like my lungs were tiny balloons, shrivelled and deflated.
    Shang smiled, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. Our eyes met and it was enough. That connection, that passion at the studio began to flare up again. By the way Shang’s jaw was clenched I could tell he was feeling the same.
    How did this one man, a man who wasn’t stereotypically good-looking, do this to me? How was each one of my senses assaulted by him? I craved more of his smile, that boyish grin that turned sexy with the flick of his eyes. His scent—the cologne mixing with his sun-kissed skin—was so earthy and yet rich like chocolate. The sound of his voice—that oh so sexy, deep voice when he said my name—and when he spoke to anyone else his tenor voice wasn’t nearly as husky. Then his touch… It was hard to put into words how his touch made me feel. Each time it was something new, a surprise how firm or soft he was going to be, but was filled with compassion.
    I had liked guys in the past, and had had almost a year-long relationship when I was sixteen, but Shang was different. Everything about him was new and alarming, sending my head into a tailspin. Every second I was around him I found myself wishing more and more that we didn’t have to break apart.
    The waitress came out and took our order. Shang did the talking and I had zero clue what he was saying. She nodded and left us with a basket of biscuits.
    Shang bit into one. When he had finished chewing, he asked, “So, Luna, how long have you been modelling?”
    “For most of my life. My mom saw an ad for a children’s jean company—they were looking for a new face and we were low on cash. It only paid fifty bucks but I got it. The campaign turned into more than a one-time shot. I was literally the butt of the six-year-old jeans’ industry.”
    He nodded. “So from kids’ pants to corsets?”
    I laughed. “Well, there were a few steps in-between. I’ve done acne ads and some small-time clothing campaigns.”
    “Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do?”
    “Well, I would love to do a diamond ad. I saw one in Vogue where the model was naked with only diamonds dripping from her body. I don’t know about the naked part, but she reportedly had over a million dollars on her.”
    He took another biscuit. “I heard about that. Much more fabulous than what I’m used to.”
    “So how’d you get into landscapes?”
    “Monet. My mother worked at an art gallery in China. I was surrounded by the work of some of the greatest artists of all time. But Monet was my favourite. The way he brought colours and life to simple things many people never pay attention to…I wanted to do that.”
    His eyes lit up as he talked about his past then his craft. He truly loved what he did. I asked, “Why work with people now?”
    Shang cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not really sure. Wanted to try something new, I guess.”
    “And? How’s that working out?”
    A smirk tugged at his lips. “So far, so good. I admit I hadn’t heard of you before I was hired, but I’m glad to have met you.”
    Truth was, I was glad to have met him as well. Too many people were snobbish, especially to a newbie like me. They didn’t care what I’d done as a child, only what I’d done as an adult—and Dante’s campaign was my first.
    Shang’s words echoed through me and I knew a seriously noticeable blush was crossing my cheeks. “Me too.”
    The waitress placed our food in front of us. Despite the dish having an odd French name, it actually looked good. The chicken appeared to be fried, or at least crispy. There was some kind of pasta—maybe penne—on the side with seafood in it.
    Shang and I ate in silence, every now and then looking up at one another and smiling. The food tasted delicious. Being Indian, I’d been raised on a much different diet. This