“What question?” Mia couldn’t remember anyquestions.
“Whether or not I truly think you’re beautiful, because, Mia, Ido.”
* * *
“Where didyou learn to kiss likethat?”
Joaquin sat up, drew Mia with him, his heart still pounding, his cock threatening to split his jeans. The last time a kiss had affected him like this was … Yeah, he had nothing. “That was as much you as it wasme.”
She gave a little shake of herhead.
“I just paid attention to what you seemed to like.” Was that so different from the men she’d been withbefore?
God, he hopednot.
“Have you been with a lot of women?” Her eyes went wide as if she hadn’t meant to ask him that. “Sorry. It’s one hundred percentnotmybusiness.”
He brushed a strand of red hair from her cheek. “You can ask me anything you like. How would you define ‘alot’?”
“I don’t know.” She thought about this for a moment. “Adozen?”
“Adozen?” Joaquin laughed. “I probably come in at about half that number, mostly from my college years. It took me a while to understand that sex isn’t love. I’ve gotten more careful and pickier as time has goneon.”
He wasn’t looking only to get laid. He wanted a woman who truly cared about him, a woman who wanted to share his life. “How aboutyou?”
“Two. I had a boyfriend my sophomore year in college and one the year I graduated. After that, everything was wrapped up in regulations, and I was moving from post to post. I just never met anyone who made mefeel… ”
“Safe?” heoffered.
She nodded. “Yes—or attracted enough to take therisk.”
Well, he likedthat.
“You want to dance?” It had helped him work off sexual steam more times than he could count. “You can practice your salsamoves.”
She laughed. “My salsa moves? You mean my stumbling and tripping and stepping on your feet—thosemoves?”
“You were not as bad as allthat.” He stood, drew her to her feet, then walked over to his sound system, taking advantage of having his back to her to adjusthimself.
“But Iwasbad.”
“No,mi amor. You were new to it.” He searched his iPod for his list of current favorites—some traditional puertorriqueño salsa, a little Colombian and Cuban salsa, some Mexican boleros—then pressedplay.
The sounds of guitar and congas filled the room, horns joining in as he turned to face Mia. She was smiling, but, yeah, he could see she was nervous,too.
“Relax. Do you remember the basic step?” He stood beside her, demonstrated. “One, two, three, rest. Five, six, seven,rest.”
She picked it up more quickly this time, moving lightly on her stockingfeet.
“See?No problema.” He took her into his arms, led her back and forth across the floor, then tried aturn.
She lost the rhythm, and this time she did step on his foot. “Sorry!”
“Hey, you’re not the first. Don’t worry about it. Let’s try that again. One, two, three, rest. Five, six, seven, rest. All we’re going to do is go in a different direction. It’s the same basic step.” He tried anotherturn.
This time she followed withoutdifficulty.
“You have a natural sense of rhythm.” He led her through another turn and another, until they were moving around thefloor.