and Jasmine noticed the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. He had a strong neck. Lots of tendons and muscles that worked in harmony.
And then he caught her staring. “Yes?”
She cleared her throat and pointed at her glass. “Should I be drinking?”
“Just a glass. It’s good for you. But then water.” He gestured to the platter of food. “Please.”
Hesitantly, Jasmine reached for a piece of cheese. Oh, it was good, and the more she ate, the more hungry she felt.
When was the last time she’d eaten?
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.
Jasmine’s back was to him—her bare back.
Merde...
Her spine swayed gracefully and there were two delightful little dimples at the top of her buttocks. Her skin was a flawless caramel color, a contrast to the dark hair that cascaded in waves between her shoulder blades. Her ass was...
Jesus, her ass...
Clenching his fists, Luca turned away from the barely opened door. What the hell was he doing? Now he was a fucking voyeur? This woman’s mere presence was trouble enough. The last thing he needed to be doing was ogling her through a semiclosed door. He certainly did not need to be entertaining thoughts of running his finger down the indent of her backbone, dipping into one dimple and then the other and cupping the glorious globes of her ass in each of his hands.
Squeezing before exploring...
Enough!
With a strengthened resolve, he knocked on the wall beside the partly open door. “Mademoiselle?”
“Yes?” Her voice sounded startled. And hopeful.
What the fuck?
“I’ve left some clothes for you in the bedroom. I can launder your clothes tonight so they are clean for tomorrow. Just leave them on the bed.”
“Oh.” Her voice sounded breathless. “Thank you.”
Luca marched down the hall without another word. He needed to focus his attention on tasks like preparing the fish for dinner. Unfortunately, his body wasn’t exactly cooperating.
It’s been a long time, Luca...and that ass...
“Silencieux!” he muttered to himself.
There was no way he would get involved with an amnesiac, concussed tourist. Honestly. It was a bad idea all around. No matter how much his libido thought differently.
Twenty minutes later, when the fish was warming in the oven, he glanced down the hall with a hint of worry. Should he check on her? What if she’d ignored his recommendation and had filled the tub with water, then fallen asleep or passed out and drowned.
Shit.
He hurried down the hall and was just about to push open the door when Jasmine came out wearing nothing but a towel. The scent of his own shampoo wafted about her and he was forced to squash the insane desire to bury his
