The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas (novels for students .TXT) 📕

soft. Just how I had imagined. I pulled a little on the strands, not knowing why. In answer, Aaron’s fingers tightened on my waist, causing my blood to swirl and heat, gathering in all kinds of interesting places.

Without being able to stop myself, I went up on my tiptoes again, not needing an excuse to examine his face closer. He wasn’t frowning or smiling, but there was something about his features that made him look different. Unbound. Yes, that was it. There wasn’t a trace at all of that restraint I was so used to seeing in him. And to me, that made him look as handsome as he had ever looked.

Maybe I should tell him.

My lips parted with the words, and I watched his gaze dip to them. The look in his eyes released a flock of butterflies low in my belly.

“Aaron,” I said, but I was distracted by the way he was looking at me. I didn’t think I was dancing anymore. What was I going to say?

“Do you trust me, Catalina?” he asked me.

Yes. The answer flashed across my mind, but I didn’t voice it. There was something that had intercepted the three-letter word. Something I was vaguely aware I needed to remember.

Aaron’s fingers spread, and his thumbs trailed across the fabric of my blouse. One of them slipped beneath the hem. The simple contact sent a wave of pure awareness across my skin.

“You don’t, not yet,” he said against my ear, and then his lips hovered above my cheek, causing my breath to hitch. “But you will trust me; I’ll make sure of it.”

I … I didn’t think I understood that. Not then and probably not anytime soon. But what did that matter when his mouth was so close to mine? When his lips were dancing across my jaw, barely making contact, which only drove me crazy. If I moved, if I just tilted my head and—

A squeal and a hand landing on my arm burst whatever thought had formed in my head.

And the next thing I knew, I was being dragged away from Aaron. Another loud screech hinted at who was behind me, pulling at my arm.

“Lina, nuestra canción!” my sister yelled over the music, stopping us both at a narrow opening, where there was some space.

Our song?

My ears took the song blasting through the speakers as my brain worked out the situation slowly.

It was impossible not to recognize the beat. How could I not when that infamous video of my sister and me dancing to this very same song had been played over and over at family gatherings and Christmas for the last twenty years? Both the music and the choreography were ingrained in my brain forever. “Yo Quiero Bailar” by Sonia y Selena was playing, and that only meant one thing.

“Time to pay up!” Gonzalo cheered.

That was followed by everyone else making as much space as they could around Isabel and me as the rest of Team Bride assembled behind us to deliver the payout for losing the Wedding Cup.

My body came alive with the familiar beat.

“You’ll pay for this, bridezilla,” I yelled over the music as we looked at each other, readying our positions to start the infamous choreography.

“Me?!” she yelled back as we moved our butts in sync. “You’ll thank me later.”

We swirled with our arms up and then shimmied our way down.

“What do you mean?” I demanded as we bumped our hips, following through with the stupid dance.

I was aware of the rest of our improvised array of back dancers from Team Bride somewhere behind us. They were replicating our moves as well as they could. To their credit, I didn’t think my sister’s—or my—drunken attempts were that easy to imitate.

“What I mean is …” Isabel said as we came closer again, faced each other, and high-fived over our heads. Then, we started lowering our bodies to the floor with the beat of the song, making our way down in a way that was supposed to be seductive and probably ended up being unnaturally clumsy. “If your boyfriend’s smoldering eyes are any indication, you are so going to get extra laid tonight.”

Her words had barely entered my ears and registered when I almost landed on my ass.

My head shot to my side, taking in our audience and immediately landing on a very particular set of eyes. Smoldering eyes, as Isabel had just put it. And as my body went through the motions, relying on only muscle memory, I couldn’t tear my gaze off that pair of piercing blue eyes.

I executed the routine almost absently, not able to look anywhere else. Magnetized by those two blue spots that seemed to be ignited with light. And while I could blame the alcohol running through my bloodstream, I couldn’t figure out what his excuse was.

He ate up every ridiculous and silly motion as if he were contemplating something that was more than a routine created by a pair of teenagers a bunch of years ago. He looked at me as if I was more than a grown-ass woman executing a goofy and wacky dance. Like he couldn’t get enough. Just as if he were about to part the crowd and close the distance between us so he could drink in even the smallest of my motions.

I had never been looked at that way. Not ever.

When the song came to an end and transitioned into the next hit from a decade ago, whatever was passing between Aaron and me churned low in my stomach. With urgency. So much that it made me dizzy and flustered and about to crawl out of my skin.

The memory of my body flush against his flickered through my mind. That had only happened a few minutes ago.

My heart raced in my chest as I tried to gather myself, to control my breath. Sweat dripping down my back and arms, an overwhelming sensation made its way across my whole body.

I needed air, fresh air. That always helped.

“I’m going outside for