Page 78 of The Christmas Letter

‘Yeah, but you go first. Or I could go first and then leave you to have the room?’

She hesitated, then nodded. ‘Yeah, ok.’ Because politeness be damned – getting ready while he was in the ensuite would be far too awkward and distracting. It had been bad enough this morning, grabbing her clothes to change in the bathroom, after having woken up with his arm still around her.

He showered and she tried to compose a text to Abi to tell her what was happening. Though she wasn’t sure how, exactly, to explain that Jack was in her hotel room in Venice, taking a shower in her bathroom, without it sounding completely weird.

She looked up when the door clicked open. And there he was, a towel tied around his waist, hair all damp and ruffled, his bare chest right there on show. She forced herself to look up at his face. ‘That was quick.’

‘Just trying to get out of your hair.’

She nodded, suddenly unsure of what to say. Jesus, what a body. Her eyes traced the contours of his chest of their own accord, moving from there to his arms – and why did arms suddenly become even more sexy, when they were attached to a naked body?

She realised what she was doing and snapped her gaze back to his, registering the subtle curve of his lips as he suppressed a smile.

‘I’ll get dressed, leave you to it,’ he said. She picked up her towel off the bed, and he moved into the room at the same time as she stepped towards the bathroom. She was very, very aware that he was naked, that all it would take was one tug on the towel. She looked up and their gazes met. She felt something pull inside her, though she told herself not to be stupid as she took another step towards him, to where he’d gone still, watching her.

She tilted her face up to him. ‘Thank you, for today.’

‘You shouldn’t be thanking me.’ His voice was low, like liquid dark chocolate, smooth and impossible sexy.

‘Well, I am.’ Then, marvelling at her own self-control, she stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. She felt the way his body tensed as she eased back and she tried to take a breath as she started to move around him to the safety of the bathroom.

But he grabbed her hand to stop her, and she felt the electric flare of her pulse. She looked up at him.

‘I came here for Emma,’ he said, quietly.

And she frowned – because that was obvious.

‘I have been trying to figure out a way to . . .’ He shook his head. ‘I should have got in touch before now. With Emma, I mean. Should have found a way to . . .’ He blew out a breath. ‘The point is . . . it shouldn’t have taken you calling me to tell me she was in hospital.’

Because he looked like he needed the comfort, she reached out, cupped his face in her free hand.

‘I came for Emma,’ he repeated. ‘But I also . . .’ He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. ‘I mean, when I heard your voice . . .’ She felt the huff of his breath on her hand. ‘I’d be lying if I said I didn’t come for you too, Holly.’

She felt the spark at his words, the way her heart thudded against her chest. So she didn’t let herself think too hard about it as she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. Gently, something soft and sweet. But he reached up, placed his hand over hers, and deepened the kiss, just a little. Her eyelids fluttered closed. She could smell the shower gel the hotel provided, could taste mint on his tongue. He pulled away gently, their faces still close, his dark brown eyes boring into hers. She let out a shaky breath and pulled back further, before she acted on what her body was telling her to do right now.

‘I’ll see you downstairs?’ His voice was still low, and just rough enough to make her belly stir.

She nodded, stepped away. And when she turned the shower on, she turned it down cold.

Holly sat next to Jack at a small table – there were only around ten in the club, creating an intimate atmosphere, one that was only added to by the bottle of red wine between them. The music was amazing, and not at all what Holly would have expected. Admittedly, she didn’t have much experience with jazz, but she’d imagined something a bit boring. But this was the type of music to set you alive, to make you smile or bring a lump to your throat. The way the instruments spoke to one another, the way the musicians were able to work with one another with no sheets to read from, relying only on their own ear or talent or whatever – well, it made Holly wish she’d learnt to play an instrument.

‘I think I might be a converted jazz fan,’ she whispered to Jack, and he smiled at her.

‘Me too.’

They had barely looked at each other all evening, Holly keeping her attention resolutely on the band. Or at least, trying to seem like all her attention was on the band, when really it was on the way Jack’s knee was pressed against hers under the table – had been since they’d sat down after the short interval. He was in jeans – not having taken the time to properly think through the best clothes to pack in his hurry to leave for the plane – but she was in the playsuit she’d bought, the white lace skimming three quarters of the way down her arms but leaving her legs bare. Bare – and all the more sensitive for it.

They couldn’t really speak above the music – not without being rude and shouting – and somehow that only added to the thrumming in her body, her nerves pulsing in time with the flickering candlelight.

When the second set ended, Holly and Jack clapped along with everyone else, and something like relief slid through her. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it – she’d loved it. Could imagine Lily loving it too.

Together Jack and Holly headed to the bar to pay, and promised to come back if they were ever in Venice again. The sun had set by the time they stepped outside – reinforcing her belief that Venice at night was just as beautiful as Venice in the day. The buildings glowed with the light of the street lanterns and the water glimmered in answer, giving the whole place a magical, mysterious feel, like you couldn’t be quite sure what was waiting for you around the corner.

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked back to the hotel over the Rialto Bridge, the chatter of tourists humming around them. Holly looked straight ahead. She’d thought it would be easier, out here in the open air, but she still felt it, that pull towards him, and had to flex her fingers by her sides with the effort not to touch him. Did he feel it too? He’d kissed her back in the hotel room earlier, and she’d read something there, had been sure he’d wanted her. But when she snuck a glance at him, his face was so neutral, it was impossible to tell.

They made it back to the hotel in record time, both of them walking at speed. When they headed into the reception, Jack pulled a hand through his hair. ‘Shit, I didn’t do anything about a room.’

‘That’s ok,’ she said, and was impressed with how even her voice sounded. ‘You can share with me again – then we’ll make a plan when we see Emma tomorrow.’