He lifts up the drone. “Run,” he tells me, a crooked smile on his face. So I do, running along the dune, down the dune, up the dune, making sure the dress flows and spreads out around me like the petals of a flower. The only sound is that the of drone softly humming above us.


    I finally halt with my hands on my knees. “We done?”


    “Running out of breath?”


    “Yes,” I say, “you could say that.”


    “Almost.” He grabs his camera from the car and looks off in the distance. Calcting, thinking. A burst of wind grabs hold of the locks of his hair and tugs at his linen button-down, as he stands there on the top of the slope. His jaw works as he thinks.


    I should photograph him.


    And perhaps it’s our conversation yesterday, or the fact that we’d woken up in the same bed, but I tell him that. I even grab my phone from the car.


    “Ivy,” heins, but I shake my head.


    “No, you look… impressive right there. Like a modern-day explorer.”


    He sighs and looks at me, resigned, masculine, chaotic. “I refuse to recline on the hood of the car.”


    My lips twitch. “What a shame. You would have been the cover model for this month’s Hot Men with Jeep Calendar.”


    He shakes his head and looks across the dunes, a smile tugging at his lips. I click, grabbing the perfect picture. “There. Thank you. Wasn’t so hard, was it?”


    “It was excruciating,” he says, but his voice is light.


    “We really should flip this. Me, the photographer. You, the model.”


    “We really shouldn’t,” Rhys says, lifting hisrge camera to his face. I rearrange myself, standing on the dune, posing. Looking off into the distance. Sitting down with my skirts flowing behind me.


    “Perfect,” Rhys murmurs, and the word sends shivers up my arms. Everything means more when ites from him, I’m learning, even though I’m scared to discover quite why I feel that way. “Look at me, Ivy.”


    I do, turning to the camera. Smiling. “You snore,” I say.


    “I do not,” Rhys says behind the camera.


    “Very faintly.”


    “That’s libel.”


    “Libel is written defamation. You’re thinking of nder.”


    He lowers his camera, his eyes meeting mine. I shrug. “Sorry.”


    “Don’t be. Now I know what to put when I take you to court.”


    “You’re wee to try,” I say sweetly, “but the act urred outside the continental US.”


    “Damn it. I’m at the mercy of you entirely, aren’t I?”


    “Seems like it, yes.”


    He nods to the car. “The sun is about to set. I want more photos over there.”


    “Okay.” I smooth a hand over my skirt. “Sure you’re able to drive out of here in the dark?”


    “You know the difference between libel and nder, and I know cars.”


    The following half an hour is probably the best shoot I’ve ever had. I thought that in Paris. I thought that in Rome. I definitely thought it in St. Barts. But no, this, sitting on warm sand under the sinking golden sun, the air clear and thick, and red dunes spreading out around us aze with the sun’s rays…


    “I could live like this,” I murmur.


    “You could?” Rhys keeps shooting-I hear the clicking, but I’m closing my eyes and breathing in this experience. “Always traveling?”


    “I didn’t think I could, but it’s very, very appealing at the moment.” I reach down and grab a handful of sand, watch it run through my fingers like water. “I might start making really cheesy remarks soon, like carpe diem or hakuna matata.”


    “As long as you don’t start singing ‘The Circle of Life,’ we’re good,” Rhys says. There’s a smile in his voice, but I don’t turn to see him. I lean back on my elbows instead and watch thest of the sun sink behind the dunes in the far distance.


    “Shouldn’t we get going?” I ask. “Not that I want to, but…”


    “Yes, we should.” Rhys offers me a hand and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. It’s warm and softly calloused against mine. “Unfortunately.”


    “At least we have a nice lodge to return to. It’s not this, but it’s something.”


    He lets go of my hand, but not before his thumb smooths gently over mine. “Not to mention afortable bed.”


    “Veryfortable.”


    Rhys raises an eyebrow. “So what’s the review?”


    “The review?”


    “You slept with a man for the first timest night, right?”


    I can’t help it-Iugh. He chuckles too, his right hand in his pocket. “I suppose I did,” I say, bumping him with my elbow. “I was a bit nervous at first, but he made it really great for me.”


    “What a relief to hear. I would’ve had to kick his ass otherwise.”


    “You would’ve?”


    Rhys nods. “As a gentleman, it’s my duty.”


    “Didn’t know you were one.”


    “I keep it under wraps,” he says. “Don’t tell anyone.”


    “It would ruin your reputation?”Property ? N?velDrama.Org.


    “Completely, I’m afraid.”