I couldn't help being nervous. My fingers were trembling slightly as I finished assembling the tripod, and I struggled to control them. I'm a professional, I told myself over and over again. Still, the shake in my hands was perceptible as I mounted the camera, and my heart was thumping in my chest. I'd done this hundreds of times before; surely there was nothing to worry about.
Right, my mind answered back. Who was I trying to kid?
I dimmed the lights, shrouding the room in deep shadow, and switched on an overhead spotlight. It was muted to just the right degree, and the warm grey backdrop looked almost like mist. A smaller umbrella light stood in front and to the right of my gear, casting a soft shadow from the plain white stool in the middle of the floor. Perfect. I was ready. I pulled over a collapsible chair and sat down, trying to let my eye tell my brain where this shoot was going to go. It was crucial that I achieved perfection. My nerves began to subside, little by little, as I worked over details in my mind, framing shots and compositions with my mind's eye.
I was taking a sip from a bottle of Perrier when a female voice shattered my calm, and I almost spat the water onto the studio floor.
"Are you ready for me yet, Steve?" It was instantly recognisable, that voice, and it set my nerves on edge again. Here we go, I thought. No backing out now. I took a deep breath.
"All set," I said, taking another sip of water to ease the sudden dryness in my mouth. I got up and stood at the edge of the pool of light, hands clasped behind my back. It was very warm in the studio, and I felt sweat begin to break out on my forehead as I waited, not sure what expression I should have on my face. I was suddenly certain a stupid grin was lurking there. I tried again to focus my thoughts. I've been doing this for fifteen years; and here I was acting like a first year assistant.
The dressing room door swung open, and she stepped out of the darkness into the light. My breath caught in my throat as I saw her. She was smiling, lips glossy and vamped with red lipstick; wild and dangerous against the porcelain pallor of her skin. Her eyes sparkled under dark make-up. Her long hair was loose and tousled, it shone under the light and spilled like caramel over her shoulders and neck. She wore a midnight blue silk gown that hugged her body, sliding on her skin like oil as she moved over to the centre of the room.
She was beautiful. No, more than that, she was stunning, she was perfection.
"How do you want me?" she said. Her expression was mischievous, as if she knew the effect she was having on me. She probably did - she seemed alive with energy, confident and strong. That smile; what was she thinking? The air seemed to thicken around me.
"Just let your thoughts go. Forget about me; I'm part of the furniture. Whatever you want to be today, just be it."
Not much by way of instruction, but it was all I could manage. My voice sounded alien to me. She simply nodded, then sat on the stool and stretched her long legs out. With deliberate slowness, she shrugged out of the gown. It slid off her shoulders, down her body, and fell on the floor. Naked, smiling, she lowered her head looked into my eyes.
"Aren't you taking that off?" She said.
My mind was a confused blank for a moment. Then I remembered the lens cap. I felt heat rising to my cheeks, but I grinned, and lifted the camera from the tripod.
I hardly had to try, in the end. She was a natural, and bathed under the soft lights she became a goddess. My nervousness vanished as I concentrated on the job - I felt like I was cheating, it was so easy. Shadows rippled over her skin like smoke as she changed positions; her muscles taught and defined by electric light, her hair streaming from her. Subtle movements, flawless skin, elegant and graceful - every photograph was perfect. No-one had ever shot her like this before, and she was amazing.
Later, I was sitting at my computer when I felt her hand on my shoulder. She had showered, and was dressed in plain jeans and a white T-shirt.
"How did they turn out?" She asked.
"Lacey, they're stunning. You're beautiful," I said. She leaned over and kissed the back of my neck. I slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto my lap. The images finished burning, and the disk slid out. I handed it to her.
"I've always wanted to model for you, Steve. I'm naturally shy, I guess."
But her eyes were still dancing. Though we've been married for years, I love it when she looks at me like that. On the computer screen I dragged the photographs into the wastebasket. A second later, they were gone. The DVD was all the remained of the shoot.
"Just make sure the kids never get hold of that disk," I said.