Page 30 of Italy and Forever

‘But thank you,’ she said in a clipped tone.

‘You don’t need to thank me,’ he muttered in reply, his forehead creased in discomfort, while Ginny was trying not to wallow in the pleasantness of his hand clutching hers.

Petra called out to get everyone’s attention. ‘Men – or leading partners,’ she corrected herself with a nod to Tita’s wife, Sally, ‘take your right hand and place it firmly against your partner’s left shoulder blade.’

Ginny saw Rhys’s throat bob as he followed the instruction, his face scrunched up with concentration – or distaste, she thought ruefully.

‘I’ve never waltzed before,’ he explained.

Heat rushed up to Ginny’s cheeks and radiated there, no matter how hard she tried to make it go down again. What Rhys brought out in her was decidedly odd.

But when she looked up, he was very close, licking his dry lips. The warmth of his body reached hers. His hairline was damp with sweat already. If he was so uncomfortable, why had he offered to dance with her?

She hoped it hadn’t been out of pity.

‘Just a minute,’ he said, tearing away. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d dived into the lake to get away from her, but he just tugged off his knitted pullover, making her swallow a squeak of surprise at the flash of skin before he smoothed his T-shirt down.

When he clasped her hand again, her eyes popped at the sight of his corded forearm, dusted with pale hair. The man was wearing a T-shirt, in the mountains, in October, while she was in a fluffy jumper with a cute character on it and she’d seen him naked yesterday.

Her face flamed with the memory of that as his hand landed on her shoulder blade and she copied Petra’s stance with her husband, setting her arm on Rhys’s. Wow, the man was a furnace.

‘Side to side!’ Petra called. ‘And pendel.’ She repeated the German word in rhythm as Ginny stepped to the right – and Rhys went to his right, wrenching her arm.

More muttered apologies and Ginny’s heart was hammering at such a pace, she wasn’t sure how she was still able to think. But they mastered the simple step on the second attempt.

‘Keep a firm hold on your partner. When you move together, you need to feel it, anticipate it.’

Rhys took a deep breath before following Petra’s instructions and then Ginny found her chest pressed into his, the air whooshing from her lungs.

It was… superb, his body against hers. Perhaps it had been too long since Ginny had shared a breath with someone. That would explain the pure delight.

Until she kicked him in the shins.

‘Oh, fuck!’ She clamped her mouth shut, glancing guiltily around to find the kids mercifully out of earshot before blowing out a relieved sigh. ‘Sorry.’

Biting her lip, she glanced up to find Rhys giving her a perplexed smile. That was a nice one. She didn’t think she’d seen that smile before. His mouth looked made for kissing. She was suddenly, burningly curious about why he was nearly forty and single – and about what it would feel like to kiss him. Just a light brush of her lips on his. That was all she’d have the courage for.

She forced herself to look away. Indulging the attraction to someone who was all wrong for her would not help her find contentment on her own. Eyes on the prize. It was just a shame that Rhys felt like quite a prize, when her chest was pressed into his.

‘Forward with the right leg and back with the left. For you, Ginny, back with the left and then forward with the right,’ Petra said, her expression pinched. Ginny hoped it was just because she and Rhys were so slow to master the steps and not because Petra had caught Ginny gazing into his eyes.

His eyes…

It was easy to forget he didn’t know what she looked like. She wondered with a start exactly what he saw when he looked at her – or anyone else.

His shoulder shifted under her hand as he gave a soft chuckle. ‘I’m not always very good at understanding facial expressions, but even I can tell you’re dissecting me right now.’

‘Oh – sorry,’ she said with a gulp, stumbling briefly before re-establishing the back-and-forth movement in rhythm.

‘Now with the music!’ Petra called out.

Ginny braced herself when the accordion player unclipped his bellows, but he was competent, when he wasn’t trying to produce vomit music. After a moment or two of shuffling and bumping, she and Rhys found the side-to-side rhythm and she settled into the movement, into his body.

‘You can study me. I won’t stop you,’ he said, surprising her. She’d expected him to mumble something barely intelligible and then stay quiet for the rest of the awkward dance, not revive the subject. ‘I’m just not sure I want to hear your conclusions.’

‘I’m observing, not judging,’ she insisted and was awarded a slight lift of his brow. She interpreted that as an opening. ‘I was just wondering what you see, when you look at people, if not their faces.’

‘Ah,’ he said with a sigh.