In the next instant he almost gave her a heart attack.
‘Stop!’ he screeched.
She slammed on the brakes, and even though they weren’t going fast gravel still kicked up around them from the unsealed road. Before she could ask Felipe what was wrong, he was out of the car and moving with remarkable agility through the neighbouring strip of bush.
She glanced at Dylan in wordless enquiry.
He shook his head. ‘I have no idea. But I suspect we should follow him.’
‘This!’ Felipe declared when they reached him.
Mia stared. ‘It’s a fallen tree.’
He seized her by the shoulders and propelled her to the tree, ordered her to straddle it. Next he forced Dylan to straddle it as well, facing her. Mia straightened and folded her arms, frowning at the photographer.
‘Why do you frown at me?’ He glared at Dylan. ‘Why does she frown at me? Make her stop.’
‘Uh... Mia...?’
‘I can see that you—’ she pointed a finger at Felipe ‘—will have no regard for Carla’s dress.’
‘Pah! This is art. If Carla wants art then she will need to make sacrifices. Now, do as I say and lean in towards each other.’
Whipping out his camera, he motioned with his hands for them to move closer together.
He heaved an exaggerated sigh. ‘As if you’re about to kiss. Mia, darling, I know you don’t have a romantic bone in your delightful body, but you have a pulse, and you have to admit that your fellow model is very pretty. I need to capture the light and the landscape. Art is work.’
She glanced at Dylan to see if he’d taken Felipe’s ‘pretty’ remark as a slight on his masculinity. She found him grinning.
He winked at her. ‘You heard what the man said.’ And then he puckered up in such an exaggerated way that any threat inherent in the situation was immediately removed. She puckered up too.
With the odd, ‘Tsk!’ as if in disapproval of their antics, Felipe set about taking photographs.
The flash made Mia wince.
‘Headache?’ Dylan asked.
‘I just don’t like having my photo taken.’ The last time a flash had gone off in her face had been when she’d been led from the courthouse...in handcuffs. It wasn’t a memory she relished.
As if he could sense her ambivalence, Dylan leapt to his feet.
‘Darling!’ Felipe spluttered. ‘I—’
‘You’ll have to make do with just me as a model, Master Fellini. Run!’ he muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Mia.
So she did. She shot to her feet and all but sprinted away, to stand behind and to one side of Felipe, in amongst the bracken fern.
She watched the two men’s antics with growing enjoyment. Felipe barked out orders and Dylan promptly, if somewhat exaggeratedly, carried them out. He flirted with the camera without a scrap of self-consciousness. Felipe, in turn, flirted outrageously back.
Double entendres flew through the air until Mia found herself doubled up with laughter. It was just so much fun watching Dylan!
Without warning, Felipe turned and snapped a shot of her.
She blinked, sobering in an instant.
Dylan was immediately puffed up, all protective.
Felipe beamed as he stared down at his camera. ‘Perfect!’
MIA SWALLOWED. ‘WHAT do you mean, perfect?’
He gestured her over. ‘Come and see.’
She didn’t want to see. She wanted to run away to hack and slash hiking trails, to fill in potholes and be away from people with their unspoken questions and flashing cameras.
Dylan’s not like that.
Dylan was the worst of the lot!
She forced reluctant feet over to where Felipe stood with his camera held out to her. Dylan moved across too, and she sensed the tension in his shoulders, in the set of his spine.
‘You said you just wanted to test the light—to get a sense of scale and a feel for the locations, figure out how to make them work for you.’
‘Darling, I’m an artiste. My mind, my eyes, my brain...they’re always searching for the perfect shot.’
She went to take the camera from him, but he shook his head.
‘Just look.’
She leaned in to look at the display on the screen. Her gut clenched up tight at what she saw.
Dylan leaned over her right shoulder. ‘Holy cow...’
In the photograph, Mia stood knee-high in bracken fern, bent at the waist with her head thrown back, her mouth wide with laughter and her eyes crinkled and dancing. The entire picture rippled with laughter. She didn’t know how Felipe had managed it, but when she stared at the photo she could feel delight wrap around her and lift her up.
He’d made her look beautiful.
She swallowed and straightened, bumping into Dylan. She moved away with a murmured apology.
‘You see what I mean?’ Felipe demanded. ‘The picture is perfect.’
Her temples started to throb. ‘It’s a lie.’
‘Art doesn’t lie, darling.’
She was aware of how closely Dylan watched her, of how darkly his eyes throbbed as they moved between the image of her on the camera and the flesh and blood her. She found him just as disturbing as Felipe’s photograph.
‘Will you sign a release form, darling, allowing me to use that photograph in my next exhibition? This is precisely what I need.’
Her mouth dried. She had a plan. That plan was to remain in the background. This wasn’t remaining in the background.
Her hands curled into fists. ‘No.’
Felipe switched the cameral off with a sniff. ‘That photograph could be the centrepiece of my next exhibition. And, darling, I don’t actually need your permission. I was only being polite. This is a public place. As such, I’m free to take photographs of anything I please.’
Instinct told her that pleading with him would do no good. Her stomach started to churn.
‘How much would a photograph like that sell for?’
She’d been aware of Dylan growing taller and sterner beside her. She glanced up and realised he’d transformed into full warrior mode. A pulse started up in her throat, and a vicarious thrill took hold of her veins even as she bit back a groan.
Felipe waved him away. ‘It’s impossible to put a price on a photograph like that. I have no intention of selling it.’
‘Sell it to me now.’
Dylan named a sum that had her stomach lurching.
‘No!’ She swung round to him and shook her head. ‘Don’t even think about it. That’s a ludicrous amount of money for a stupid photograph.’
He planted his hands on his hips. ‘It’s obvious you don’t want it shown in a public exhibition. Let me buy it.’
She folded her arms to hide how much her hands shook. ‘I don’t want it hanging on your wall either.’
Why would he pay such a