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Does he think I did a poor job of representing my dad in the meeting?

No, I don’t think that could be it. He wouldn’t really care about that.

Maybe he’s still pissed off about me teasing him about us kissing earlier.

Maybe he’s been thinking about it the whole time we were in that meeting.

Like I was.

Heat pools between my thighs and my breath catches in my throat.

Ugh. The last thing I need is to develop a crush on bloody Jem . Especially when he thinks so little of me.

‘I didn’t know that about your dad dying while you were at university,’ I blurt, desperately trying to turn my thoughts away from how alone we are in here together.

He turns to look at me and pinches his brows into a frown. ‘Bea didn’t tell you?’

‘No. Believe it or not, we don’t sit around discussing the ins and outs of your private life,’ I say, trying to keep my tone light and jokey, but totally failing to hit the mark.

‘I wasn’t suggesting you did,’ Jem retorts, sounding offended.

‘It’s impressive – the way you cared for your parents. I don’t know if I’d have been able to do it.’

He looks at me for a second, his gaze hooded, then shrugs. ‘You do what you have to do. Anyway’ – he waves a dismissive hand – ‘I don’t really want to talk about that right now.’

‘No. Sure,’ I say, chastened. I guess it’s too personal a thing. Though it wasn’t me who asked the initial question of him, it was Jeff, I remind myself. I was just an innocent bystander.

‘Where’s your mum at the moment?’ I ask, not able to stop myself from continuing to pry.

‘In an assisted-living complex for people with dementia,’ he says, not looking at me, but going to pour himself a glass of water.

‘Oh. Right.’

I don’t know what else to say. Sorry seems so glib.

‘Does she know you’re here? With me?’

He stills and there’s a heavy pause before he says, ‘I told her I was coming to Greece, but she probably won’t remember.

She doesn’t even recognise me as her son sometimes.

’ He drinks the whole glass of water in one go.

‘Anyway, like I said, I really don’t want to talk about my parents right now, okay?

’ He turns to give me an I’m serious stare.

I nod in agreement.

Of course, I’m not going to push the subject if he doesn’t want to talk about it.

Before he went all prickly on me, I was thinking how much I’d still like to give him a hug, but instinctively, I know he’d only reject me again if I tried.

So instead, I sit on the bed and start scrolling through one of my social-media apps on my phone.

He’s pretty much ignoring me now while he unpacks his bag and meticulously puts away the meagre number of business-ready clothes he’s brought.

‘Why bother unpacking?’ I say irritably. I’m not sure what’s made me so cross but my whole body feels jumpy and adrenalized. ‘There’s no point. It’s a waste of energy when we’re going to be leaving tomorrow.’

‘Because I like to wear uncrumpled clothes,’ he says in a lofty tone.

As if he’s only just tolerating how shambolic I am – how much of a nuisance .

What’s his bloody problem? Why does he have to be so uptight? Keeping himself to himself and not letting anyone get close to him.

I’m sure plenty of women have tried and failed before me, I tell myself.

Not that I have any interest whatsoever in his sex life.

Not one bit.

‘I’m going for a bath,’ I say, getting up off the bed and limping into the bathroom. I need some time away from him now or I’m going to scream. There’s a pressure in my chest that won’t go away and I think the only thing that’ll help right now is a soothing soak.

The bath is enormous, of course, and it takes quite a while for it to fill, so I sit on the side in my underwear, reading nonsense on my phone, waiting until it gets to about half-full.

Glancing at the level of the water, I notice now that there are lots of little nozzles around the inside of the bath.

Ha! It’s one of those ones that turns into a hot tub.

Looking around the edge of the bath, I see a small panel with three buttons on it. It’s not entirely obvious which of them do what, so I just jab at one at random to see what happens.

It turns lights on in the bath, which oscillate between all the colours of the rainbow.

Wild.

I press the next one and it turns the light to a soft white, which slowly pulses on and off every few seconds, plunging the bathroom into darkness before re-illuminating.

The final button I press turns the jets on.

Unfortunately, what I don’t consider is that the bath is still only half-full, so instead of making bubbles under the water, it blows air just under the surface.

This has the effect of turning it into a stream of spray, which hits the side of the bath then fires up into the air like a geyser, soaking me from head to toe.

There’s so much water spraying into my face, I can’t see the buttons to turn them off any more and I shriek in alarm and shout, ‘Bloody hell!’, terrified I’m going to flood the whole bathroom.

There’s a yell of concern from outside, then Jem bursts in through the door, saying, ‘What’s wrong? Are you okay?’ in a panicked voice.

‘I can’t see to turn it off!’ I shout back through the waterfall between us.

He’s strides into the room, using his hand to shield his face, and looks around for the controls. But of course, he can’t see a thing either.

‘For fuck’s sake, Dee! Where’s the button?’

I pull myself together and blindly feel my way over to the panel on the bath and jab at the controls until the jets stop. Then for good measure, I turn off the taps too.

There’s a deathly silence as we turn to look at each other.

I’m soaked to my skin, standing there in my underwear, which has to be completely see-through now.

Jem is also soaked and the white cotton t-shirt and jersey shorts he’s changed into while I’ve been in here stick to his body like a second skin. I can clearly see the shape of his muscles through the material and I swallow hard, my body suddenly all hot and needy.

‘Jesus, you’re a walking disaster!’ he says, tearing his gaze away from my semi-naked body and swiping his hands over his wet face.

‘That’s a bit bloody rude!’ I hiss back, fed up with him being so judgemental. ‘It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone.’

‘No, Dee, it couldn’t. It’s only you that attracts such chaos.’ His jaw is set and a small muscle is twitching in it, like he’s trying to control his frustration with me.

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ I blurt, hurt welling in my gut.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t hate you.’ But he’s not looking at me, he’s staring at the wall behind my head.

‘Well, it feels like it some days.’

His gaze snaps to mine. ‘I don’t like the way you play on Bea’s sense of sisterly duty, that’s all. It’s selfish behaviour.’

‘How is it selfish? She likes looking out for me. She likes fixing things.’

‘She’s got enough on her plate without having to mother you.’

‘Yeah, well, I never asked her to.’

He drags his gaze away again, this time looking down at the half-full bath. ‘Maybe it’s time you started looking after yourself,’ he grinds out, clearly irritated with me for answering back with the truth.

Bloody Jem, always sitting on his high horse. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to have a family like mine, always pointing out my flaws, telling me I’m not doing a good enough job – of anything.

‘I can look after myself just fine,’ I spit. ‘I’m not a child.’

‘Well, you act like one sometimes!’ Jem shouts back, turning to glare at me.

We’re both angry now. Furious with each other.

I’m not sure where this rage has come from, but it’s positively buzzing in the air between us.

We’re only a couple of feet apart but the distance feels enormous.

His gaze flicks downwards for a second, then back up to my face, his scowl deepening.

‘Are you checking out my tits?’ I scoff, needing an outlet for my frustration.

Colour appears on his cheeks and his jaw tightens.

Ha. So that’s it. He doesn’t want to be caught ogling me in my see-through underwear. I on the other hand have no compunction whatsoever about checking out the lean contours of his body, which are fully apparent under his soaked clothes.

I drop my gaze to look at him from head to toe, feeling an excited flutter in my chest and an even more excited pressure between my thighs.

The guy has an incredible body.

My fingers itch to touch him.

Looking back into his eyes, they appear dark and hooded, as if he’s thinking the exact same thing.

Can that be right?

‘Go on then, cop a feel,’ I say to him. ‘I can tell you want to.’

He appears to freeze.

‘Go ahead,’ I insist. ‘I don’t mind.’

I have a ridiculous urge to get some sort of power over him and this seems like the perfect opportunity. Plus, I really would love for him to touch me right now and satisfy this nagging need.

But he doesn’t move.

So I take an unsteady step towards him.

He takes a step back.

I take half a one forwards.

After a second’s pause, he takes another one backwards, so that now his back is against the wall.

But he doesn’t leave.

Reaching towards him, I gently place the flat of my hand on his chest.

‘I can feel your heart racing,’ I murmur, gazing into his eyes, which look almost black now, his pupils wide and fixed. ‘Are you really that angry with me?’

I see him swallow before he says, ‘No. Not angry.’ His voice is low and rough.

My mouth twitches up in the corner as I feel a surge of pleasure at the way he’s reacting to me.

I want this attention from him. I crave it.

But to my frustration, he lifts his hand and prises my fingers away from his chest, forcing my arm down to his side so I can’t move it now.

So I put my other hand on his chest instead.

He lifts this one off too, bringing it to his other side.

I’m trapped now, both hands held down by his hips. But it’s brought our bodies closer, so there are only a few inches between my mouth and his.

‘I don’t feel anything for you,’ he says.

But I know it’s a lie. I can see it in his eyes.