Heat flooded her face. Around them, crew members suddenly became very interested in their equipment.
He led her toward the set, a lavishly decorated hotel suite that had been meticulously recreated. The director waited near the camera, script in hand.
"Finally!" Farhan called out. "We've been waiting…" He stopped as he noticed Divya. "Oh. Are we doing this again?"
"Every time." Vikram's tone left no room for argument. "My wife blocks the intimate scenes. The heroine can watch and replicate."
Divya caught sight of the actual heroine, Deepika Rao, a rising star who'd been thrilled to land this role opposite Vikram Khanna. She stood to the side now, expression caught between amusement and resignation. This was the fourth scene they'd blocked this way.
"Alright." Farhan sighed. "Let's go through it. Vikram, you enter from stage left. Divya, you're by the window."
They moved through the blocking. The argument. The tension. The moment where Vikram's character finally snaps and backs her against the wall.
Except it wasn't acting.
His hands framed her face the way they do every time he wanted to devour her. His body pressed against hers with barely restrained hunger. His eyes held heat that had nothing to do with performance.
"Like this?" His voice was rough, pitched for her ears only.
"You're supposed to be angry," she managed. "Not looking at me like…"
"Like I want to eat you?" His thumb brushed her lower lip. "Can't help it. You're the only one I want to kiss."
"The cameras aren't even rolling yet."
"Don't care." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her mouth. "Tell me to stop."
She should. They were on set. Surrounded by crew. This was completely unprofessional.
"Don't stop," she whispered.
His mouth claimed hers. Hot and hungry and possessive.
Someone cleared their throat loudly.
Vikram pulled back with visible reluctance, though he didn't step away. Just looked down at her with satisfaction.
"Got it," Farhan called out, sounding long-suffering. "Deepika, did you see the positioning?"
"Yes." Deepika’s voice carried amusement. "Though I doubt I can replicate the chemistry."
"Just the choreography," Farhan muttered. "The chemistry is clearly non-transferable."
Vikram finally released Divya, but not before pressing one more kiss to her forehead, a gesture that had become his signature, that the media had picked up on, that fans now called "the Vikram Khanna forehead kiss."
"Thank you, Mrs. Khanna," he said formally, eyes dancing. "Your assistance has been invaluable."
"You're impossible," she said, but couldn't quite suppress her smile.
"And you love me anyway."
"Unfortunately."
His laugh followed her as she retreated to her usual spot near the monitors, trying to ignore the knowing looks from the crew.
This had become routine over the past two months. Every intimate scene blocked with her first. Sometimes they got it in one take when he finally filmed with the actual heroine. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly possessive, ittook ten or more takes because he "wasn't satisfied with the positioning" and needed to "check the blocking again" with Divya.
Everyone knew what was really happening. No one commented. Vikram Khanna's devotion to his wife had become legendary.