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He set down the camera and crawled toward me, stopping at the cushion's edge. "I don't expect you to be shameless like me, and I'm not sure I'd want you to be. I want you exactly the way you are."
"That's the nicest thing any man has ever said to me." I plunged a hand into his hair, pulling him closer. "I want you just the way you are too, sex tapes and all."
"Just so you know, I deleted the sex tape from my phone two days after we met."
"Why would you do that?"
"For you, Eve. I don't need a memento of my liaison with another woman."
"Glad to hear it."
I drew his head closer until our lips met.
He fell onto the cushion, half on top of me, braced on his elbows. The kiss deepened swiftly, hot and sensual and imbued with more emotion than any of our previous kisses. I latched my arms around him, spreading my legs. I was all but begging him to take me, and I felt no shame at all about it.
"My camera takes video too," I mumbled against his lips.
Val pulled his head back. "No, Eve, I don't want to tape us. What happens between you and me is strictly private. I don't want to share our intimate moments with the world, and I don't need a replay to remind me of how much I love being with you."
"I love being with you too."
We made love right there on the crimson cushion, like we had started to do the first time he had posed for me. After that, he insisted I let him take more pictures of me—and he insisted I wear clothes. He told me he wanted a picture to put in his wallet and one to have as his wallpaper on his phone. I took pictures of him with clothes on too, for the same reasons. By the end of the day, we had both changed our phones to display the photos we'd taken of each other.
That night, while I slept with Val's body spooning mine, questions niggled at me. Was I in love with him? Was he in love with me? The most important question kept me awake until after midnight.
Could we, two opposite types of people from two different worlds, really work out in the long run?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Val
The day that marked one month since I'd arrived at Eve's place fell on a Saturday. I had plans to celebrate the date with a date—a real one this time. Dinner in the nude while seated at the kitchen island didn't count. Dinner under the stars on a picnic blanket on the lawn, also in the nude, didn't count either. I wanted a genuine, fully clothed date with her.
I wanted to romance the hell out of Eve Holt.
Since I'd never in my life tried to impress a woman this way, I resorted to calling my sister Maria. After the usual greeting and pleasantries, I got to the point. "I want to ask Eve out on a date, the kind that takes place in a restaurant and involves nice clothes. How do I do that?"
Maria laughed. "Como? I must have misheard. You couldn't have said Val Silva finally wants to ask a woman on a date."
I growled under my breath. "That's what I said."
She laughed harder. "Ó pá! It only took you thirty-seven years."
My whole family spoke Portuguese, of course, but both of my sisters spoke English as fluently as I did. We often conversed in that language since I'd gotten accustomed to it over the years. Our mother liked English too because it was her native tongue. Sometimes we reverted to Portuguese, particularly if Maria or Aline wanted to scold me or mock me.
"I'm asking for your help," I said. "Will you stop laughing at me and tell me what to do?"
"My big brother needs my help. Give me a moment to enjoy this."
Another, louder growl rumbled out of me. "Forget it. I'll call Aline."
"Porque? Aline knows nothing about dating. She married the first boy who asked her to a dance." Maria paused, no doubt for dramatic effect. "Here's what you need to do. Are you listening? Write this down so you don't forget."
"Get on with it."
"Speak these precise words. Eve, will you please go on a date with me?"
My sister burst into laughter again.
