by Penny Jordan
She was expecting that Jon would ring sometime during the course of the day to tell her what flight he would be on. She had bought smoked salmon for dinner tomorrow because she knew he liked it, and there was a ham in the fridge which she had baked especially the day before. When she got back she would make up his bed...and perhaps pick some flowers for the sitting room.
Abruptly she shook her head. Their marriage was a business relationship, she reminded herself severely. Jon would be understandably embarrassed if he came home to find she had made a lot of special arrangements to welcome him. But even while she acknowledged the sense of her thinking there was a niggling sense of disappointment as though she had been denied some small pleasure she had been anticipating.
Although it was only eleven o’clock, the heat when she stopped the car on the drive, was enervating. Listlessly she ferried the shopping into the kitchen and put it all away. The cotton T-shirt she was wearing was sticking uncomfortably to her skin, and there were grubby marks on her matching cotton denim skirt where she had touched it with her hands. The pretty, pale blue outfit, so crisp and neat when she went out, now looked tired and limp. She had rolled her hair up into a knot to keep it out of the way and the back of her neck ached from the weight of it and the shopping.
Tiredly she made her way upstairs, going first to the airing cupboard and collecting fresh bedding for Jon’s room.
The door was slightly open and with her arms full she had to lean against it to open it wider to get in.
‘What...?’
She heard the startled exclamation as she stepped into the room and shocked by the total unexpectedness of it she stood stock still, her eyes flying wide open as she clutched the bedding to her.
‘Jon?’ Her voice sounded rusty and thick, totally unfamiliar...as unfamiliar to her as the figure standing beside the bed, she thought wildly, swallowing the lump of tension which seemed to have invaded her throat, totally unable to withdraw her stunned gaze from the body of the man standing in front of her, completely naked apart from the brief white towel wrapped round his hips.
Perhaps it was the whiteness of the towel that made Jon’s skin look so brown, she thought hazily, silently observing the healthy sheen on skin that adhered firmly to male muscles. His hair was wet, which must explain why in its damp tousled state and the way it clung to his scalp it should so suddenly make her aware of the faintly arrogant masculinity of Jon’s features. The blue eyes were narrowed and watchful but curiously brilliant and sharp for someone who needed such strong glasses, the dark hair clinging to his head mirrored in colour and texture by that which ran diagonally and vertically along the male planes of his body.
The most curious sensation was washing over her. She felt so weak that her legs barely seemed able to support her. With a small moan she tottered to the bed, sinking down onto it still clutching the bedding.
‘Sophy! Are you all right?’
So it was Jon! No mistaking that pleasantly mild voice.
‘No. Yes...it’s the heat,’ she managed disjointedly, suddenly uncomfortably aware that the heat of which she spoke came from inside her body and not from outside. Anxiously she clutched the linen even closer to her chest, shamingly aware of the sudden tension in her nipples. For goodness’ sake, she chided herself mentally, pull yourself together. She had seen men without their shirts on before—without even as much as Jon was wearing. At least, she had seen Chris... But his body had been nothing like Jon’s, she realised weakly. Nothing like as tautly masculine. She had never for instance possessed the slightest desire to reach out and touch Chris, to see if his skin felt as silkily warm as it looked.
‘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 d
ismissively. 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?
Moved by some impulse she wasn’t ready to define Sophy went into her own room and changed into the bikini Alex had picked out for her. She had already worn it once earlier in the week and that exposure to the sun had turned her skin the colour of clotted cream.
When she got outside Jon was lying sleeping in a deck chair, oblivious to her presence. She tried to settle down; first by stretching her body out on the towel she had brought downstairs with her and then by going back inside to dig out a paperback book to read. It was all useless. A restless nervous energy seemed to possess her body, making it impossible for her to simply lie down and relax. When Jon had been asleep for just over a hour she got up and started on some desultory weeding. The activity helped to soothe her a little but her heartbeat seemed to be much faster than usual, her skin damp with a heat that wasn’t entirely due to the sun.
At two o’clock she abandoned her self-imposed task and went back inside, getting out the blender to make lemonade, her hands moving deftly as she did so. Leaving it to cool she used what was left from the jug she had made the previous day to fill two glasses, putting them on a tray and then defiantly carrying it outside to where Jon still slept.
The sun had moved slightly and now slanted across his face, revealing the taut bone structure. The hair flopping on to his forehead looked disarmingly soft and silky. Would it feel like Alex’s?
Suddenly aware of what she was doing Sophy snatched back the hand she had extended towards his face and instead placed it firmly on his shoulder, shaking him.
He was awake immediately blinking his eyes slowly as they focused on her. ‘I’ve brought you some lemonade. If you sleep too much now, you won’t be able to tonight.’ How cross and ungracious she sounded, Sophy thought. What was the matter with her?
Jon reached for his glasses which he had discarded several feet away on the lawn and Sophy bent to retrieve them for him at the same time. It was a small task she had performed more times than she could count but this time, as she handed them to him and watched him put them on, for some reason her body felt as though it were in the grip of a deadly paralysis.
It was impossible for her to move away even when his slightly stunned glance slid over her, taking in the brevity of her bikini. She could almost see him cringing away from her, she thought bitterly, immediately stepping back and retreating to her own towel. Why on earth hadn’t she put on something more discreet, covered herself up a little more? If she carried on like this much longer he might begin to think that she was...what? Trying to seduce him?
Prickles of heat ran across her skin, her body tense. What a ridiculous thought...of course she didn’t want that. After all, one of the main reasons she had married him had been to escape from any sort of sexual involvement.
Confused and alarmed by both her thoughts and her feelings Sophy got up and rolled up her towel.
‘Had enough?’ Jon asked mildly, watching her.
‘It’s almost time to pick up the children.’ It was true, after all. ‘I’ve left all your post on your desk if you want to go through it.’
There, that made her feel better—restored their relationship to its proper footing—reminded her that there was nothing between them other than a business relationship and a certain amount of cool friendship, and that was the way she wanted it, she told herself firmly. She had the children to share her love with...
Love! She froze, staring blindly into space. How on earth had that crept into her thoughts?
The sudden touch of Jon’s fingers on her bare arm made her jump visibly and swing round. He was standing right behind her, holding his empty lemonade glass, watching her rather uneasily.
‘Sorry if I shocked you. I just wanted to say I’ll come with you to get the kids.’
‘Very well. It won’t take me long to shower and get changed.’
For the first time it hit her that she was behaving far from naturally with Jon. She no longer felt completely at ease in his company...far from it.
She was as good as her promise, arriving back downstairs again within half an hour, dressed comfortably in a soft, mint-green cotton skirt and a pastel-toned, patterned shirt.
Jon had his usual battle clambering into the car. ‘Next week we get a new car,’ he told her wryly as she drove off, adding, ‘Is there any make in particular that appeals to you?’
Sophy shook her head.
‘I’m told BMW make a good vehicle,’ Jon offered. ‘How about them?’
‘They’re very expensive,’ Sophy warned him.
Beside her, Jon shrugged. ‘That doesn’t matter...safety and comfort do.’
‘You managed to sort everything out in Nassau, then?’ Sophy asked when the silence began pressing painfully on her screaming nerves.
‘Yes. Oh, that reminds me...Harry Silver, my contact over there, will be coming to stay in Cambridge soon for a week or so. He and I used to be at university together. I’d like to invite him and his wife over for dinner one night.’
He might just as well be an employer giving his housekeeper her instructions, Sophy thought bitterly, immediately chiding herself for the thought. She was the one at fault, she was reacting in a totally unfamiliar and unreasonable way and had been ever since she walked into Jon’s room and found him there.
That must be it, she decided, relieved to have hit upon an explanation for her behaviour. It was the shock. The shock of seeing him, a mocking inner voice demanded, or the shock of how she had seen him?
‘Is anything wrong?’
Sophy bit her lip. So even Jon had noticed her tension. ‘No...I think it’s just this heat,’ she gave him a brief smile. ‘Sometimes I find it a bit wearing. Unlike you.’
A strange silence followed her last two words, and for some reason Sophy felt constrained to explain them. ‘That is...you’ve got such a good tan you must enjoy sunbathing.’
‘There were times when I had to wait for them to run certain tests. Lillian was kind enough to take pity on me and let me have the use of her patio and pool whilst I was doing so.’
‘Lillian?’ Sophy asked sharply, taking her eyes off the road for a second to look at him.
‘Harry’s assistant,’ Jon responded vaguely. ‘She had a condominium near the Centre, with a communal pool. It was much more convenient to stay there whilst I was waiting for the results of the tests rather than to go back to my hotel.’
A sensation unlike any other Sophy had experienced in her life was boiling through her; a mixture of anger, resentment and—jealousy—she recognized dully. She was jealous of this unknown Lillian, Jon spoke about so easily. Was that why he didn’t want her in his room because...? Abruptly she brought her careering thoughts to a halt. Why should Jon have reacted any differently to this Lillian than he did to any other woman? What on earth was the matter with her? She was behaving like a jealous wife suspecting her husband of having an affair.
Fortunately they had reached the school and in the excitement of the children greeting Jon she was able to bring herself under some sort of control.
Tea was a light-hearted meal, although she herself took a back seat in the conversation.
‘Uncle Jon looks nice in his new clothes, Sophy,’ Alex announced approvingly. ‘We got you some in blue because that’s the same colour as your eyes,’ Alex informed her uncle, dimpling a smile at him, ‘and Sophy has sent all your old things to the cleaners.’
* * *
THE WEEKEND WAS as hot as the rest of the week had been and they spent most of it in the garden. Sophy was having trouble sleeping. Each day seemed to drain a little more out of her, and yet she was so tensely wound up that she just could not relax. Her whole body was gripped by a peculiar and unfamiliar tension which left her nerves on e
dge and made her muscles ache. But at least no one else seemed to be aware that anything was wrong with her.
Even worse than her growing inner tension was the compulsion she seemed to have developed to be with Jon, and yet when she was with him, she felt acutely tense, unable to so much as sit down for more than five minutes at a time.
The trouble was, she thought exhaustedly on Sunday afternoon, that while she had suddenly become aware of him as a man, Jon simply did not see her as a woman at all. He would be deeply embarrassed if he knew the reason for the way she occasionally found herself looking at his body. She was embarrassed herself. Embarrassed and annoyed. What was the matter with her? Even with Chris, when she had been deeply in love with him, she had felt no stirring of desire within her to know him as a man.
Perhaps it was simply the fact that Jon was so elusive...so completely disinterested and unaffected by her that was making her behave like this, she decided, turning over onto her stomach and trying to relax. She could feel the heat of the sun seeping into her skin as she tried to come to terms with the reality of such contrary behaviour. Was that it? Subconsciously did she see Jon as a challenge? Was that what was making her behave so oddly? A desire to arouse within him a male reaction to her as a woman? But why? That was totally against everything she had felt when she first married him.
At last, worn out by her thoughts, she fell into a light sleep.
* * *
SOMEONE WAS TOUCHING her skin with the lightest of movements, strong fingers moving against her spine. She moved languorously beneath them, enjoying the slow sweet wave of sensuality rippling through her.
Jon...Jon was touching her...caressing her as...
‘That’s it, Uncle Jon, you’ve got him now.’
The breathy whisper close to her ear made her tense and wake up properly, quickly rolling over.
