Sara leaned back just enough to study Luca's face, her gaze falling into the depths of his eyes. They were mirrors, reflecting desire and profound love.
"Your wounded arm... you mustn't let it soak for too long," she whispered with concern as she gently lifted his right arm out of the steaming water of the tub.
"It's already thoroughly drenched," Luca replied, his voice a husky murmur that betrayed the effect her closeness had on him.
"Then you need to wash up and get out," Sara insisted as she swiftly stood up, pulling herself free from the sensual pull of the moment. She grabbed a towel from the glass cabinet, wrapping it tightly around her body before disappearing from his sight.
She quickly dressed in a fresh, dry set of clothes, then began drying her hair with the towel.
"How much longer can I keep holding him off? I just... I can't go through with this. Not again," she muttered to the quiet room.
