Page 66 of Pleasure Games

He caught the hand that was about to stroke his cheek and held it aloft. “My father never forgave me. At least, I don’t think he did. I never had the chance to ask.”

“Luca...”

From somewhere down the hall, a telephone rang. It was such an out-of-place sound, both he and Jasmine jumped, as if it wasn’t an everyday noise but a message from ghosts of his past.

Luca pushed off the couch and strode down the hall to where he’d left his phone in the bedroom. The call went to voice mail but he recognized the number. François.

Luca immediately called him back and heard the relief in François’s voice.

“Good news,” François said. “You can come out of hiding.”

“What’s going on?”

“Prices are up and we’ve pushed the date of the sale of the Legrand Goût des Rubis to tomorrow. I need you in Paris for the press conference. Show the board you can handle it and I think we can sway favor your way.”

“Press conference? Wait, how do you know I’m not in Paris?”

“Luca, I’ve known you all my life. There’s only one place you’d go after the paparazzi fiasco last week.”

Of course François would know where he was. He’d worked for the family for decades.

“So,” François hedged. “What did you do about the woman?”

Luca glanced toward the door. “She’s still here, with me.”

He could hear the disapproval dripping through the silence on the line. Finally, François said, “Press conference is at eleven tomorrow morning. You need to get rid of her by then.”

“Get rid of her? What do you mean?”

“Take her to the police station. There’s one a few blocks from the hotel where we’re holding the conference. Let her figure it out from there. She is not your responsibility, Luca. You can’t risk another scandal, not tomorrow of all days. Do you understand?”

“Of course,” Luca said, though he wasn’t exactly sure how Jasmine was a scandal.

He hung up the phone and stood in the dim silence of the room for a moment. This was good news. He should feel elated. He could return to his normal life, a week earlier than expected, no less. Yet it all came with a strange heaviness.

This week had been...un-fucking-believable. Jasmine was un-fucking-believable. But it wasn’t real. It was just like he’d tried to explain to her not twenty minutes ago. Real life had no happily-ever-afters. Life was nothing more than a combination of events: some happy, some sad, most in-between. And then?

It all ended.

While this last week had been one of the happiest he’d ever experienced, like everything in life, it had to end.

* * *

He was taking her back to Paris. Just like that. After the most monumental day of her life...it was all coming to an end.

After the phone call, Luca had returned and proceeded to explain that he needed to return to Paris and that it was time she return to her life, too. Their “fairy tale” existence—if sex several times a day was a fairy tale—had come to an end. Then he’d taken her hand, led her to the bedroom and made love to her.

One last time.

Sometime in the night he’d gotten up and slept in the other bedroom, leaving her alone.

“What did you expect, Jazz?” she whispered to herself as she reached across the empty side of the bed. “Did you really think he’d invite you to stay? Did you think this was anything more than a holiday tryst?”

Yes.

It was true. Last night, before the phone call, Luca had finally opened up to her. For a brief moment, she’d entertained ideas about sharing a life with him. God, she was such a hopeless romantic. She’d been living in a fantasy world, and even if this fantasy world was so much better than any she’d been able to construct in her imagination, it didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t real and never had been.

After barely sleeping, Jasmine decided to get up once the sun peeked through the drapes. Time to face the day she’d secretly hoped would never come. She showered and made her way to the kitchen to start the coffee. There was an old stovetop espresso maker—a moka pot?—that made the best coffee.

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