CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-NINE

MUSIC, DOPAMINE, ENDORPHIN, AND MORE

And they danced, and it felt so good!

The music didn't require elaborate steps, so they simply held each other, with Otávio gripping her waist firmly and being led by her.

Clara rested her head on his chest, closed her eyes, and savoured the moment. She could feel his warm hands, the temperature of his fingers penetrating the fabric of her dress, deliciously warming her skin. For the few minutes that the song lasted, she allowed herself to imagine that he was just like the other people there, that he was enjoying this idyllic moment as much as she was. She allowed herself to imagine that they were in a normal world where Otávio felt. He felt her.

Because she felt him, God, how she felt him.

His scent was dry, faint, no perfumes. It reminded her of the stories from romance novels she used to read when she was fifteen, sixteen years old. The smitten heroine would say she fell in love and adored the scent of the hero – the scent of dry wood on a starr