Page 17 of Pleasure Games

Glancing down, she noticed her dirt-smeared blouse. When was the last time she’d changed? Showered? Turning and tilting her chin in a way she hoped was inconspicuous, Jasmine gave her pits a sniff.

Ugh. Not the freshest.

“Um...” Jasmine began after eating a handful of nuts and three slices of meat. “I hate to trouble you, but would I be able to take a shower?”

The man turned from where he’d been pulling items out of the small refrigerator. “It’s not a good idea.”

“Excuse me?”

“Taking a shower is not recommended. If you faint, you could hurt yourself.” He poured flour onto a plate and added spices with his fingers from pinch jars on the counter. After wiping his hands on a nearby towel, he said, “Come with me.”

Jasmine eased off the stool onto her bare feet. The act of standing made her light-headed and she kept a hand on the wall as she followed Luca slowly down the hall, right to the end where there was a large bathroom tiled in slate-colored travertine. There was an ultramodern glassed-in shower big enough for two and a large free-standing soaker tub with a washing wand propped at one end.

“Don’t fill the tub,” Luca said, gesturing to it. “There are towels here.” He pulled a thick white towel out of a cupboard. “I’ll find some clothes for you and leave them in the bedroom.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Dinner should be ready in forty-five minutes.”

“Okay.”

Jasmine leaned on the counter for support and turned to find blue eyes scrutinizing her, making her already wobbly knees feel weaker.

“Do you need help?”

Jasmine swallowed.

Was he serious? Would he actually help her? She glanced at his hand propped on the side of the doorframe. Tanned. Nicely shaped fingernails. Big hands.

What would it feel like to have them removing her clothing?

Helping her into the tub?

Washing her body?

Oh, God.

The tingles she’d been feeling all evening spread from her extremities down her lower back and abdomen, culminating at the very juncture of her legs.

“Mademoiselle? Are you okay?”

Jasmine realized her breaths were coming in short little pants and she was gripping the counter like a life vest in an ocean of orgasmic waves.

“Fine,” she said quickly. “I’m totally fine.”

“Do you need my help?” he asked once again.

She met his gaze. There was concern there and nothing more. This man was not coming on to her, as insistent as her imagination was. Luca was simply being helpful. And kind.

She smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m all good.”

“Bien.”He stepped back out the door. But before he left, he ducked his head inside the bathroom one more time. “Mademoiselle? Please, keep the door open.”

* * *

Luca left the woman in the bathroom and went to the wardrobe in the bedroom. There was very little to choose from that would fit her, as the collection of clothes he’d brought was sparse. In one drawer he found a pair of shorts that could be tightened with a drawstring and one of his favorite T-shirts from the Red Bull Ring MotoGP event in Austria, 2016.

He left the items on the bed and then went to stand outside the door of the bathroom. It was partially open. He raised his hand to knock, but before he did, his glance went to the mirror, visible through the opening.

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