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‘What are you doing here?’ Her voice sounded breathless and too high. She could see Jon frowning as she managed to drag her bemused gaze from his body to his face. Thank God he was short-sighted, she thought wryly, feeling her face flame for what she might have betrayed to him if he hadn’t been.
‘I...er...got an earlier flight then I intended. Sorry if I shocked you.’
Shocked her? There was nothing but mild vagueness in his voice; nothing to make her feel that he didn’t just mean his apology in the sense of having shocked her by his unexpected arrival, and yet... She glanced at him covertly and told herself she was imagining things in thinking that he was ascribing her shock as being due to his semi-nude state.
‘Here, let me take those from you.’ He stepped towards her and instantly she was aware of the clean, soapy smell of his body. Instinctively she shrank back, still clutching the bedding, all too uncomfortably aware that her body was still betrayingly aroused by the sight of him but he was already reaching for the linen in her arms and somehow Sophy found herself relinquishing it. As he moved back, his hand brushed against the curve of her breast and immediately Sophy jumped.
‘Sorry about that... I can hardly see a damn thing without my glasses.’ The words were muffled as he turned away from her.
His back was as brown and well-muscled as his chest, Sophy thought, admiring it and his legs, long and roughened by dark hairs. As she stood up and caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror she decided it was just as well Jon was short-sighted. Where her T-shirt clung to the contours of her breasts it clearly revealed their aroused contours and the firm peaks of her nipples.
‘I’ll, er... I’ll come back and make the bed later,’ she managed to say as she hurried out of the room and into the protection of her own.
It was only later when she had managed to restore a little of her normal calm, with a cool shower and a change of clothes that she realised she had said nothing to Jon about the changes she had made in his wardrobe.
She found him downstairs making some coffee, and what was more he was wearing the sand-coloured stonewashed denims she had bought for him in Marks & Spencer.
‘Something seems to have happened to my clothes,’ he remarked equably when she walked in. ‘I don’t suppose you happen to know anything about it.’
‘Er...they’re at the cleaners. I thought...that is we thought...well, with the heatwave continuing, I had to get the children some lighter things and...’ Her voice petered out uncomfortably as she realised just exactly what she had done.
‘You were thoughtful enough to get some for me at the same time,’ Jon concluded gently. ‘That was very wifely of you.’
‘Well, if you don’t like them, you don’t have to...that is...’ Realising that she was gabbling, Sophy forced herself to stop. What was happening to her? Anyone would think she was frightened of Jon when in actual fact he was the mildest and gentlest man alive.
‘I thought those awful hairy suits and ancient cords were too heavy for this weather,’ she told him simply, ‘but if you don’t like what I got for you they can easily be changed.’
‘You’re not trying to change me into a male model, by any chance?’
A smile lurked at the corner of his mouth and taking heart from it, Sophy shook her head, adding impishly, ‘Some hope, you’re far too big and muscular.’
She wasn’t sure which of them looked the more surprised. A deep mortifying burn of colour spread over her skin but fortunately Jon seemed to be oblivious to it. He had turned away from her to watch the coffee filtering. He was probably as embarrassed as she was herself, she thought wryly, and wondered why she should find that thought so dismal. What did she want? For Jon to do something macho like take her in his arms and let her see how well her description matched reality? Jon wasn’t like that. He wasn’t interested in her, or any other woman, sexually. She knew that.
‘I’m tired... I think I must be suffering from jet lag. I think I’ll go out and have a sleep in the garden.’
Did he want to sleep or was he simply wanting to escape from her company? Sophy wondered, watching him wander outside. Well at least now she could go up and make his bed but when she got upstairs she found that he had made it for himself. She shrugged dismissively. Of course Jon was used to looking after himself...or was this a polite way of informing her that he did not expect to find her in his room again?
