Free Touch of the Camera by Anais Morgan Page A

and lighting was amazing.
    The makeup artist’s hands left my face and when I opened my eyes, she was appraising her work. She smiled, looked at Jacque, and he clapped. “Beautiful,” he said, a dancing tone in his voice.
    I turned to peer in the mirror. As soon as I saw myself, my breath escaped me. Holy shit. I was a woman. My eyes were sultrier with a smoky effect, my lips more pouty in red. I wanted to jump up and dance a samba. Shake my booty. Today, I was a real woman. So why not do it? I stood, grabbed Jacque’s hands and started doing some kind of move I was sure the earth had never seen. Jacque laughed and did his own dance then I twirled him around, our hitch-pitched laughter overtaking the room.
    “May I cut in?”
    I stopped at the sight of… him . Shang Lee. I had seen him in pictures, but they didn’t do him justice. His hair, thick and long, was brushed back from his face. As he looked at me, he ran his hands through that hair, making a tendril fall over his forehead. His skin was absolutely flawless, sun-kissed from months in the wild. His black eyes seemed to penetrate me, making my knees weak. Their endless depths captivated me. I wanted to reach out and touch him, see if he was real. If he was as soft as he looked.
    I felt Jacque staring at me, his gaze searching my face for the words that were stuck in my throat. Finally, he cleared his. I snapped out of my trance and shifted my eyes from Shang to Jacque. Shang looked at me like I’d forgotten what planet I was on. Jacque, bless him, knew when a girl was struck by a good-looking man. He set his hands on my shoulders, pushing me closer to Shang. “She is ready, Mr Lee.”
    Shang smiled. He had a set of perfect whites and a boyish face. How did he go from sexy man to innocent with just a smile? I could barely stand in my six-inch heels—I was going to trip. I always did when a handsome man was around. Call it clumsiness, but I had serious problems standing when gorgeous men were near. Granted, it was my job, but so far not many men had done this to me. I was what my mother liked to call ‘dumbfounded when it came to the opposite sex’. If he touched me…
    “Let me introduce myself. I’m Shang Lee, but please, call me Shang,” he said, taking my hand in his.
    That did it. I fell, ass first, somehow breaking my shoe in the process. Shang caught me, his arm under my back supporting me. I stared into his eyes—he had an inner glow, like a disco party was raging inside him. His touch was warm. I started to think of him walking from a shower, a towel low on his hips, sliding down as he moved…
    “Luna, are you all right?” he asked.
    I shook my head, noticing my hand in his hair. I straightened, shifting in my corset and trying to stand tall even though one foot was missing a heel. I laughed, obvious hesitation in the sound, and looked at Shang. “Yeah. I get so clumsy. This is my first shoot showing my sexier side and the shoes and I got excited from the makeup and—”
    He grabbed my hand. It stopped me and my rambling mouth right away. Great. It’s not like word vomit attracts many men. How was I supposed to shut myself up? Best idea? Keep it to head movements.
    Shang, still holding my hand, led me over to the photo shoot. There was a green screen, with a green bench in front for me to sit on. I’d been told that Dante wanted to add in an eerie sky so the screen didn’t surprise me. Shang helped me straddle the bench while a man from wardrobe placed another shoe on my foot. Okay, Luna. Time to get down to business. Think sexy. Think kitten.
    Shang backed up to the camera and analysed my position. “Okay, Luna. Now, for the first twenty frames or so we’re going to have you straighter. Jacque will say when to break it up then kind of do your thing. Feel what’s natural.”
    I nodded, straightened my back and relaxed my body. Exhaling, I heard the sound of the camera clicking. Being a model was all about small movements so that’s what