Page 60 of Heart of a Villain

“When was the last time?”

“Just now, with Ayesha in the car, and I loved every minute of it. Did you know Ayesha has an amazing voice?”

“I learned recently. From what she’s told me, her father sang, and it is one of the natural talents his family is known for. She was singing a song for Tiare that she said her father would sing to her,” his brows lowered, “but I can’t remember what song it is now.”

She swayed, and he freed one arm so that she could hold onto it. Instantly, she was transported back to the villa in Morocco.

“Will you dance with me, Adrían? Just for a little bit.”

He set down the spoon and spanned her waist with one large hand, his eyes silently asking if touching her this way was okay. If she was comfortable with him touching her like this. And it made her wonder if he could see it—how she’d changed.

Why she’d changed.

She stepped closer to him and set one hand on his chest. The other lightly gripped his arm. They swayed, gazes connected, his thumb absently caressing her lower back.

“I used to dream about this,” he said. “Dancing with you, close and slow, just like this.”

“At home?” she asked. “After we put the kids to bed?”

“At a festival or Carnival in Brazil. I would pull you to me, and the world would fade as I held you. But I think I like your version better.”

She smiled.

His brows softened. “Ah, querida. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“You’re such a lady’s man.”

“Yes, I make ladies swoon, and all I need are my words.”

She lifted a brow. “And exactly how many women have you made swoon?”

“Ask me your real question.”

“Were there many after me?”

“Making love to you taught me something vital about myself,” he explained. “My desire is based on attraction and connection. I feel passion deeply. I feel pleasure profoundly. I have tried, but I seem incapable of making love to a woman who doesn’t have your face.”

She smiled again.

He said something in Portuguese, but it was too low and fast for her to pick up on.

“What about when you first met Ayesha?” she asked. “What happened then? Did you think she was me?”

“For a moment, yes.”

“How do you do it, then? How do you see her with Joel and not feel something? Maybe not now, but what about that very first time you met?”

“Has it been the opposite for you?” he asked, and she felt the redirection. “You’ve fallen in love with other men since me?”

“A few.”

The swaying came to a stop.

The playful sultriness left his voice.

“Define ‘a few.’”

“Only about six or seven.”

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