Page 32 of Pleasure Games

You know how pathetic you sound? Her inner critic asked.

“Yes.”

Her ride to the embassy was going to be here in an hour, which gave her no time to enact any sort of seduction plan. But the worst part was, once she arrived at the embassy, she would have to suck it up and call Parker. He was the one who had all of her documentation. Copies of her passport, her birth certificate and driver’s license—all of it was in the desk drawer in the living room.

She turned and let the strong spray hit her directly in the face.

Fuck that. There was no way in hell her first conversation with him since their breakup would be one where she had to ask Parker for help. She needed to find a way around that.

Jasmine turned off the shower and dried herself. Getting ready didn’t take long when she didn’t have any toiletries besides a toothbrush and a men’s comb that didn’t even make it through her hair. Without foundation, she was unable to cover up the discoloration at the side of her face.

At least her clothes were clean.

And her panties—which were folded very nicely.

Luca folded my panties. And my bra.

It seemed like such an intimate thing to do.

“Enough,” she said to herself. “You have got to get this fantasy under control. It’s not happening, Jazz. So just stop.”

After running her fingers through her damp hair, Jasmine finished dressing and padded barefoot down the hall to find Luca in the kitchen making breakfast.

The first thing she noticed was the wonderfully rich smell of coffee that had a hint of melted dark chocolate. So decadent. On a plate was a baguette cut in half along with a pot of butter and preserves. There was also a plate of eggs and two glasses of orange juice.

“Thank you,” Jasmine said, as she stood in the kitchen entry.

Luca nodded and then glanced at her bare feet. “You need shoes.”

Jasmine glanced down at her ruby-red toenail polish. “Yes, I suppose I do.” She must’ve lost them along with her purse.

“I’ll tell François to take you to a shop first.”

“I don’t have money.”

“He’ll buy you a pair.”

Jasmine went around to the breakfast bar and sat. “François must be a very good friend.”

Luca made a face. She couldn’t tell if it had a positive or negative expression. “I’ve known him all my life.”

Jasmine had hoped that Luca would at least join her for breakfast, but he’d obviously already eaten because he was in the process of washing his plate. Once it was set in the rack over the sink to dry, he refilled his espresso cup and took it down the hall to his bedroom.

This really was it. Her sex-venture was over before it had even begun. Such a shame. Watching the clock over the stove like she was an inmate on death row eating her final meal as she awaited the appointed hour, Jasmine decided she would call her parents first, once she got to the embassy. They could contact Parker if need be. Once she had travel documents, she’d change her flight and go home.

What had she been thinking, coming here by herself? She wasn’t an adventurer, and certainly not a sex-venturer. This whole thing had been one big mistake. Running away from a situation she didn’t want to face was never a good decision.

Just as she finished the last bite of baguette, a telephone rang. Luca strode back down the hall to retrieve it. He checked the screen and said, “It’s François.”

Her stomach sank. If she looked down, Jasmine was sure she’d find it flopping around on the hardwood floor. With a sigh, she carried her dishes to the sink to wash. However, before she’d finished wiping her plate, she noticed the volume and tone of Luca’s voice, and she stopped what she was doing to listen.

Something was wrong.

While she didn’t understand the French language, she understood body language and Luca’s said one thing. He was angry. He paced the room while gesturing wildly with his free hand. His voice was deep and guttural and he spoke so rapidly his words sounded like machine-gun fire.

“Non. Je ne peux pas le croire.”

That did not sound good. Jasmine leaned her elbows on the counter as she watched the exchange with great interest.

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