The sun in Portugal has a particular quality. It burns hot and bright and entirely without mercy, and Hayley Marie Coppin stepped out onto that terracotta terrace and let it have her completely. She is dressed for the heat in a loose grey string-style top, its thin straps and open construction leaving almost nothing to the imagination as the fabric skims her curves and the fringed hem grazes the very top of her thighs. Tiny black bikini bottoms cling low on her hips and sky-high black platform heels click across the warm tiled floor as she moves with the total confidence of a woman who knows exactly how spectacular the sun makes her look. Orange-painted walls glow behind her, palm trees sway in the distance, and the blue sky stretches overhead while she poses against columns and steps with an almost feline ease.
The heat got to her. She admits it freely. The grey string top shifts and opens as she stretches and arches, letting the light pour straight through onto her skin, and then it slides away entirely. Hayley tilts her head back into the afternoon sun, eyes closed, bare skin soaking up the warmth, and the look on her face is one of pure, uncomplicated pleasure. The sun on her body in that moment is the most natural thing in the world. She got carried away, she says. Looking at these images, nobody is even slightly sorry about that.