скачать книгу бесплатно
Last time, the wardrobe department had styled Polly as Audrey Hepburn. Today, she took his breath away. The dress was floaty and elegant, and, although she looked slightly nervous, she looked beautiful. Like Sleeping Beauty when the prince’s kiss had first woken her.
And Liam was shocked to find himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her. Properly this time …
But this wasn’t part of the deal. It wasn’t what either of them needed right now. And he didn’t have a clue what to say to her. He had a nasty feeling that if he opened his mouth, the wrong words would come out. Words that could embarrass both of them. They couldn’t afford to cross that line.
He managed to get his head back in control—just—by the time Polly joined him. Teasing. That was the way to go. She’d teased him about the colour of her dress. He could tease her. Play the boy next door. And it might stop him wanting much, much more.
‘Lime green, indeed,’ he said with a grin.
Except then he ruined it by being unable to resist running one finger down her long sleeve.
Polly went absolutely still. This was crazy. Why was her skin tingling? He hadn’t even touched her—just the material of her dress.
Except her imagination was running overdrive on what it would feel like if he touched her skin. And that scared her. Why was she reacting this way to him? There was no point in starting something that just couldn’t have a future. She didn’t want a fling. She didn’t think he did, either. Neither of them needed this kind of complication.
Get a grip, she told herself.
‘This is sea green,’ he said.
‘Because of the song. It kind of went together for me.’ That, and the fact that it had long sleeves.
‘Good choice. It’s lovely.’
But she had the distinct feeling that he was holding something back. ‘You’re not really superstitious, are you?’
‘No. Though I don’t go out of my way to walk under ladders, either.’
Perhaps Bianca had always worn green. Polly made a mental note to check out a few videos on the Internet, to make sure she didn’t pick anything in the future that might remind Liam of his ex-wife.
The rehearsal went well, but Polly’s nerves kicked in the second that the first couple took to the floor.
Liam laced his fingers through hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze. And how pathetic was she, wanting him to hold her hand?
‘Remember, there are no eliminations in the first week,’ he told her, ‘just the critique from the judges—and they’re all new judges this year.’
‘Have you worked with any of them before?’
‘Tiki, the choreographer, yes.’ He grimaced. ‘She always picks holes in people, so ignore whatever she says. I guess they’ve set her up as Miss Nasty; and Mr Nice will be Robbie, the soap actor who won the competition last year. He’ll be sweet and supportive to everyone because he’ll remember what it feels like, being in your shoes. The one you need to pay attention to is Scott, the dancer—he’ll give you the constructive comments, the stuff that will help you learn and improve.’
‘Got it,’ Polly said.
‘Whatever happens tonight, it really doesn’t matter. You can fall flat on your face, and it’ll be just fine,’ Liam reassured her.
It hadn’t been fine in her dreams last night. She’d fallen flat on her face and they’d changed the rules of the show—they’d kicked her out in the very first week. Not that she’d dare confide that to him. It would send him straight into Mr Snippy mode.
Polly’s nerves grew worse with every couple that went out from the Green Room to the dance floor. She knew the scheduling had been done fairly—the names had been picked out of a hat in front of all of them after the dress rehearsal. But she really, really wished that they’d been first. She wanted to get it over with. Being last was just the pits.
Finally Millie, the host, looking very glam in a little black dress and the highest heels Polly had ever seen, announced them: ‘Dancing the foxtrot to “Beyond the Sea”, it’s Polly Anna Adams and Liam Flynn!’
Polly felt sick. She was used to having an attack of nerves before going on the live set of Monday Mash-up, and in the past had always welcomed them because she thought they kept her sharp and helped her try her hardest to put a good show together. But this was nothing like she’d experienced before. She could barely move her feet.
The audience applauded as they walked onto the dance floor.
‘Relax,’ Liam said softly. ‘Pretend we’re in my studio and it’s Amanda clapping us.’
And then the first notes of ‘Beyond the Sea’ floated into the air.
Oh, help. She’d forgotten every step he’d taught her. She’d forgotten which was her right and which was her left. And were her hands in the right place?
Then Liam moved, leading her round the dance floor. Making her feel lighter than air; yet, at the same time, she felt like a sack of potatoes. She was making a mess of this and showing him up, after all the hard work he’d put into teaching her. Any West End producers watching this would scrub his name straight off their lists. She’d let him down, and she was so cross with herself for it.
The song lasted for the longest three minutes of Polly’s life.
And then finally it was over. She gave the audience a megawatt smile that she definitely didn’t feel, and to her shock Liam stood back and directed the audience’s applause to her, clapping along with them.
Why was he applauding her when she’d been so hopeless?
He slid one arm round her shoulders and walked with her over to the judges’ table.
Tiki shook her head and compressed her lips. ‘Polly Anna, your hands weren’t quite right, your movements were too jerky, and you don’t hold yourself straight enough.’
The audience booed, and Liam tightened his arm round her shoulders.
‘And the routine was too simple.’ She flapped a dismissive hand. ‘Or maybe you couldn’t cope with anything more.’
‘May I say something, please?’ Liam asked before Millie went to the next judge. At her nod, he continued, ‘Polly’s a total novice and she’s worked incredibly hard the last couple of weeks. I think that deserves some recognition. I’m sorry you don’t like the choreography—but that’s my fault, not Polly’s, so don’t blame her for that.’
The audience clapped wildly; Tiki said nothing but scowled at Liam.
Hastily, Millie moved on to the next judge.
‘Polly, Polly, Polly.’ Robbie smiled at her. ‘You and me, we both know what it’s like being on set in front of a camera and doing bits of live shows. But Ballroom Glitz is different. You’re in the spotlight, being watched by millions. It’s scary. And you smiled all the way through it, so well done to you, girl.’ The audience clapped loudly. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you shine next week.’
‘Scott,’ Millie said.
‘You’ve made a good start. You can build on that and work on the polish. Your posture needs to be stronger and you need to be less worried about where you put your feet, but that’ll come with practice. I’m looking forward to watching your confidence grow.’ He smiled. ‘Well done.’
‘Remember what I said. Tiki’s paid to be mean, Robbie’s paid to be a sweetheart, and Scott’s the serious one. He gave you some praise as well as saying what you need to work on,’ Liam said as he led Polly off the dance floor and back to the Green Room.
They’d just sat down when the judges’ scores were announced.
They’d been the last couple on; to Polly’s shame, they were also the last on the leader board. By a very long way. As she’d expected, Lina the pop singer was top of the leader board, followed surprisingly by Bryan the TV gardener. But the gap between their scores and hers was huge.
‘Sorry, Liam. I let you down.’ That, or she shouldn’t have worn an unlucky colour. If this happened next week, it would all be over. And right now she wasn’t sure she’d manage to dance any better next week. She’d done her best and it wasn’t good enough.
‘You didn’t let me down. Stop worrying.’
‘Tiki didn’t like us.’
‘She didn’t like anyone.’ He spread his hands. ‘Even if she gives someone a ten, she’ll still find something to criticise.’
‘We came last.’
‘Which means the only way is up.’
Ha. That should be her line. But her confidence, already shaky thanks to Harry and Grace, had gone through the floor.
So Polly did what she always did. Faked it with a broad smile. ‘Yeah. See you tomorrow for training.’
‘Not so fast.’ He laid a restraining hand on her arm. ‘You’re not going home to brood in an empty flat.’
‘Of course I’m not.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Polly, I saw you smile like that last Saturday night.’
She flinched. How could he be mean enough to bring that up?
‘I know you’re going to brood,’ he said, his voice a little gentler. ‘So we’re going for a drink.’
‘Why?’
‘To celebrate.’
‘Celebrate? We came last,’ she repeated. ‘That’s hardly a cause for celebration.’
‘We have a baseline position,’ he corrected. ‘Something we can work with. Get changed. I’ll see you in ten minutes.’
Polly couldn’t think of any arguments, and she still couldn’t by the time she’d changed and met Liam in the corridor. Or when he took her to a small club where a band was playing soft jazz-blues numbers. She was still angry with herself for letting him down—for letting herself down, too—but the music did a lot to soothe her soul. As did the two glasses of white wine he persuaded her to drink.
And then the band played the opening of ‘Beyond the Sea’.
‘They’re playing our tune.’ Liam gestured to the dance floor. ‘Shall we?’
Dance, to the song she’d messed up? ‘I’m not dressed for dancing,’ she said. Her black trousers and black long-sleeved top were hardly dressy enough to go out for a drink, let alone anything else.
‘It doesn’t matter. Nobody’s watching.’
He was right. It didn’t matter, not like tonight’s performance. So she let him lead her onto the dance floor. Stood in hold with him. Let him guide her round the tiny dance floor. Sang along to the words.
And he was smiling as they danced. Not a mocking smile—a real, genuine smile. As if he were enjoying her company. Enjoying the dance.
So was she.
Because here, away from the spotlights and the judges, it worked. The floating feeling was back. She wasn’t scared that she’d miss a step, because it really didn’t matter if she did. This wasn’t for show. It was just for them. For fun.
There were other couples on the dance floor, but she barely noticed them. All she could focus on was Liam. She was shockingly aware of how close he was to her and how his legs slid between hers and hers slid between his as they turned. He was holding her so close that she could actually feel the heat of his body. And, at the end of the dance, when he spun her out in a twirl and then back into his arms, holding her closer still, her heart skipped a beat.
This was nothing like their dance earlier tonight. This was intense, sharp, sexy—and the adrenalin pumping through her blood wasn’t from nerves, as it had been earlier. This was fuelled by something else. Something she really hadn’t expected.
She looked up at him, and could see the shock mirrored in his eyes.
So he felt it, too. And was just as shocked by it.
What next?
Would he want to see where this took them?
Would he dip his head to kiss her?
Did she want him to?
Time seemed to slow down. To stop.
But then the band segued into another song, one she and Liam had practised to. One she really liked; and as Liam brought her back into ballroom hold she found herself singing along to it. Even though the words were all about love and romance and dancing in the moonlight.
At the very end of the song, Liam lifted her up and spun her round. And, as he set her down again, he held her close enough that she slid down his body. Her knees went weak, and if he hadn’t been holding her tightly she would’ve fallen. For a moment his gaze held hers, dark and intense. She could feel her lips parting, inviting him to kiss her.
This would be total, utter madness. She needed to call a halt to it right now.
‘I need a drink,’ she mumbled.
‘Water. We need to rehydrate,’ he said huskily.
The shock on his face was so clear that she knew he’d been just about to kiss her. And that those feelings were just as unlooked-for and confusing for him as they were for her.
Somehow they had to get past this. Focus on what they both wanted: a new contract to take their careers forward.
Separately.
Knowing she was being a coward, she made an excuse when he came back from the bar with their water. ‘I didn’t sleep well last night.’ She yawned. ‘I’d better go home now so I’m up in time for training tomorrow.’
Was that relief or disappointment in his eyes? She couldn’t be sure. And she didn’t dare ask. But he ordered a taxi for her and waited with her until it arrived.
If only things were different, she thought as the cabbie took her home. If only she and Liam had met some other time. But this fledgling thing between them didn’t stand a chance. So she’d just have to be sensible. And back off.
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_a54f25e1-b3b1-52d6-91c9-00f32760252c)
POLLY’S heart was thudding when she pressed the intercom to Liam’s studio the next morning. She’d slept badly again, brooding over those near-kisses and the way he’d made her feel when he’d held her close.
Even though her head told her she’d done the right thing, that Liam was as much of an emotional mess as she was and they’d be crazy to act on the attraction between them, her heart was still asking, ‘what if’?
What if she’d been braver?
What if she hadn’t backed away?
What if he’d kissed her?
She shook herself. They had a job to do. This week, she couldn’t afford to let him down. For both their sakes, she had to get it right.
