After he came out of the pool, she followed him upstairs and went to fetch a bottle of aloe vera lotion from her bathroom.
She waited while he took a cool shower to remove the chlorine from his skin and told him to call her when he’d finished.
He was sitting on the end of the bed, wearing white boxer shorts and a black T-shirt, when she entered his room.
‘You’d better take off your top and lie on your front,’ she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact. ‘I’ll do your back. You can do the rest.’
‘Thanks so much.’ Obediently, he pulled off his T-shirt, turned round and lay face down on the crumpled white quilt. ‘I’m sorry for causing all this trouble.’
She didn’t reply; she was too focused on the task ahead. In the intimate setting of the bedroom, his nakedness made her shudder. She didn’t want to have to touch him and was afraid of giving him the wrong message, but the job couldn’t be avoided.
After squeezing some of the clear lotion onto her hand, she stood over him and began smoothing it into his back and shoulders. Despite the shower, his skin felt hot to the touch and she could already see painful little white, fluid-filled blisters starting to form.
‘How bad is it?’ he asked, lying perfectly still, with his head on one side.
‘Um, pretty bad,’ she replied truthfully.
He must have been in some pain because he winced a few times. But otherwise, he seemed relaxed, his arms at right angles, elbows bent and fingers spread wide.
A small cluster of cappuccino-coloured moles beneath his right shoulder blade caught her eye, along with a patch of soft, pale-brown hair on the base of his spine, just above his boxers.
Al’s back was quite different – much broader and he hadn’t any moles, or very few, anyway. Only a tiny brown birthmark above his right hip.
Had Sasha seen it? Stella tensed. She didn’t want to think about it. Come to that, she didn’t want to think about Jon’s moles or his patch of hair either. It felt wrong, like betraying Harriet. She wished she hadn’t noticed.
Jon shifted slightly, bringing her back to the here and now. She warned him he’d have to stay out of the sun for several days and might need painkillers until the redness subsided.
‘Uh huh,’ he murmured lazily. She realised his eyes were closed and a small, contented smile was playing on his lips. He’d forgotten to be angry and upset with her; he was enjoying her attention.
‘Right, that’s it,’ she said quickly, rubbing the last of the lotion onto his lower back and snapping the lid of the bottle shut. ‘You can do the backs of your legs and arms and your front. I’ll leave the lotion here.’
Rolling over with a sigh, he sat up.
‘That was wonderfully soothing, thank you.’
He tried to catch her eye but she avoided his gaze, wiping her hands briskly on the white towel beside him.
‘How often do I need to apply this?’ He’d picked up the bottle and was pretending to scan the instructions. She knew he was hoping to detain her; he was playing for time.
‘Several times a day.’
‘Will you do my back again later?’ He sounded wheedling and needy.
Frowning, she resolved not to go into his bedroom again; he might start to like it too much.
‘Bring the bottle downstairs and I’ll do it after supper.’
Her words obviously annoyed him. His face clouded over and she could swear his bottom lip stuck out, like a sulky child’s.
‘I’m feeling sick. I won’t want supper.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘I doubt I’ll be well enough to come on the walk tomorrow either.’
Was he trying to make her feel sorry for him? Or perhaps he hoped she’d beg him to join them?
‘That’s a shame.’
