I try to remember the experiment, to think of this kiss as an intriguing result that needs recording, but all my usual poise has deserted me. All I can do is look at Ben, and the only relief I can find is that his expression is as stunned as mine must be.

Another crack of lightning slices through the sky and it’s that which finally jolts me out of my stupor. I am, I realize, standing in the middle of a forest during a thunderstorm, kissing a man in a bed sheet. I choke on a giggle that contains more than an edge of hysteria.

“I can’t believe it really rained,” Ben says, looking around him.

“The significant increase in humidity today made it likely,” I reply automatically.

“Or the God of thunderstorms has been appeased.” Ben’s dimples flash and just like that I’m thinking about kissing him again. His eyes drop to my mouth and I know the feeling is mutual; we lean in towards each other again, like magnets irresistibly drawn together. I can feel the warmth of his breath against my wet cheek.

“We have to go,” I manage, my voice hoarse as I take a firm grip on myself.

“Absolutely,” says Ben, blinking. “Yes.”

I swing around, wrenching myself away from him, my legs still unsteady as I march back to the house. I don’t turn to see if Ben is following me. Impossible as it seems, we arrive back at the villa only a couple of minutes after the others, who are still shrieking and shaking the rain from themselves. Only Ursula seems to notice our brief absence and the look she gives me is enigmatic.

I am shivering, a fact that I put down to the chill as the water evaporates from my skin. Filomena is already handing out towels and I wrap one around myself, welcoming the rough warmth.

“We did it! We did it!” Hero exclaims as she skips about the kitchen. She throws her arms around Ben in excitement. His eyes meet mine over the top of her head and my stomach feels as though I’m suddenly falling from a great height. What on earth is the matter with me? Perhaps I’m ill. I touch my fingers to my wrist and my pulse is certainly a little faster than usual.

“I’m going to go and get changed,” I say, longing for a moment alone to sort through my disordered thoughts and feelings.

“Yes, yes,” Filomena says, waving a hand. “Go and change into dry clothes and then we will have hot tea in the kitchen. I will not have everyone succumbing to influenza while Leo is away. I know how delicate you English are – I have read my Jane Austen.”