If The Ring Fits...: Ballroom to Bride and Groom / A Bride for the Maverick Millionaire / Promoted: Secretary to Bride!

Looking at herself in the mirror, Polly thought, Nobody at Monday Mash-up would recognise me. She wasn’t sure she recognised herself. But that was a good thing—wasn’t it?

‘So what’s your dress like?’ Liam asked Polly, the next morning.

‘Green.’

He raised an eyebrow

‘What’s the problem?’ she asked.

‘You’re not superstitious, then?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me you are.’

‘No.’ But he didn’t sound too sure.

‘It’s all rubbish about green being an unlucky colour. And yellow. I used to wear lime green all the time on Monday Mash-up.’

‘Lime green,’ he said, sounding thoughtful. ‘Is that what you chose?’

Unable to resist teasing him, she pointed out, ‘You said I wouldn’t clash with you, whatever I chose.’

‘Lime green. Okay-y-y,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow, you need to wear a skirt to training. Did you bring your shoes?’

‘I forgot,’ she admitted. ‘I’ll bring them tomorrow.’

‘And they match your dress?’

‘They’re silver,’ she said. Which would tell him nothing about the colour of her dress. ‘You’ll see the dress on Saturday.’

But she duly wore a skirt and the silver shoes on Wednesday. They polished the routine on Thursday and Friday, pausing only to do a quick video of their training progress for the Step by Step programme. By the end of the last training session, Polly was totally sick of ‘Beyond the Sea’ and swore privately that she’d never, ever listen to the song again after the show on Saturday.

‘Do something that helps you relax, tonight,’ Liam said as she was about to leave the studio. ‘Read a good book or curl up on the sofa with a film.’

She scoffed. ‘I’m surprised you’re not telling me to go on a five-mile run.’

‘No, that’s what I’d do to relax.’

‘So are we training tomorrow morning?’

‘No, because we have a dress rehearsal in the afternoon. I don’t want to overdo things. See you tomorrow on the set.’

On Saturday afternoon, Polly turned up at the TV studios for the dress rehearsal, and changed into her dress. She knew that Liam would be in a tailcoat, but even so she wasn’t prepared for how gorgeous he looked.

And getting the shivers when she saw him was utterly ridiculous. He’d made it very clear that he wasn’t interested in her beyond teaching her to dance for the competition. He wasn’t interested in a relationship, full stop. He was focused on getting his career back. And she was behaving like a newly hatched chick, trying to bond with the first person she saw.

Be professional, she told herself, and held her head high as she walked over to him.

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

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.

Her heartbeat was still racing when she’d climbed the two flights of stairs to the studio. Physical exercise, she told herself, knowing that she was lying: she was nervous. How was Liam going to react to her? Would he pretend that nothing had happened?

When she opened the door, he looked as nervous as she felt. Worrying that she’d push him past his limits? Or worrying that she was going to bail out on him and his career was going to come crashing down again?

‘Hi,’ she said.

‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked.

So that was how he was playing it. Being nice, rather than snippy—but putting up another barrier. A different one. A polite one.

Well, she could do that, too.

‘Yes,’ she fibbed. ‘Did you?’

‘Yes.’

She’d bet that was just as much of a fib as hers. ‘What am I learning today?’ she asked, giving him her brightest smile.

He didn’t call her on it. And again she wasn’t sure if that was disappointment or relief she glimpsed briefly in his eyes.

‘The cha cha cha. This is the week you learn that dancing can be fun.’ He handed her a mug of coffee. ‘Sit down and drink this while I show you the basic step.’

Polly was happy to sit cross-legged on the floor and watch him while she sipped her coffee.

‘Remember how I taught you to shift the weight in the balance step when we did the foxtrot? It’s the same thing, just this time it’s forward and back. Rock, rock.’ He demonstrated. ‘And then we do a quick side-close-side. One, two, one-and-two.’

Amazingly, his body seemed to just move from the hips; his upper body was perfectly straight and still. How did he do that? ‘You have very good posture,’ she said. ‘Snake hips.’ And then she blushed. Would he take it the wrong way? Would it make him think of last night, the way they’d been so close?

He stayed in teaching mode. ‘The key to this dance is the hip action. You need to try to keep your legs straight.’

‘And that’s it for the basic step?’

‘You do a set to one side, then a set back again—and, once you’ve got that going, you can add some bits onto it to make it interesting.’

Polly put her mug down carefully, relieved that she didn’t spill coffee all over his expensive floor. ‘So I guess it’s my turn to do this now?’

‘Yup. We’re going to do this one side by side until you get the basic step—you can see what I’m doing in the mirror and you do exactly the same as I do,’ Liam said. ‘We’re going to do it really slowly at first.’

He talked her through a set to the left and a set to the right, then gave her a thoughtful look. ‘OK, but there’s one thing I need to pick you up on. When you rock back, don’t go back on your heel and lift your toes—the judges will mark you down for that. If it makes it a little easier for you, step it out, but just remember to keep your toes on the floor.’

‘Right.’

‘Let’s keep going.’ He continued talking her through the basic step, and gradually their movements sped up.

Then he took her hand and spun her round to face him. ‘Well done. You’ve got the hang of the basic step. Now we’ll do it face to face. The hold’s a little bit looser than the foxtrot, but I’ll explain why when I teach you some of the later steps.’

He wasn’t holding her as close as he had for the foxtrot but, even so, Polly was very aware of the feel of his fingers against hers. Which was ridiculous. Her body shouldn’t be so aware of him as this. And she shouldn’t be wanting to press against him.

‘Music, first.’

It was the best thing he could’ve done, because she relaxed when she recognised the old Abba song. ‘I had no idea this was a cha cha cha. Though there’s something different about it.’

‘It’s a remix. Especially for dance teachers.’

The beat was infectious, and to her surprise she found it much easier than the foxtrot. This didn’t feel like hard work and counting. He was right: this was fun.

They took a break and went out for a late breakfast again.

‘You’re enjoying this one, aren’t you?’ Liam asked.

She nodded. ‘It’s a lot easier than the foxtrot.’

‘You’ll find that you’ll really click with a couple of the dances, and you’ll really not enjoy others.’

‘Any clues as to which?’

He shook his head. ‘It varies from person to person—and you might think before you start learning a dance that because you enjoy watching other people dancing it, you’ll enjoy dancing it yourself, but then you’ll discover it doesn’t do anything for you.’

‘Whereas something you might not bother watching turns out to be a lot more fun when you’re actually doing it?’ she guessed.

‘Absolutely.’

Talking about dance had made him relax with her again. Wanting to keep that going, she asked, ‘What’s your favourite dance?’

‘The rumba,’ he said.

‘Why?’

His eyes glittered. ‘Because it’s so sensual.’

Oh, the pictures that put in her head. She could feel the blush heating her entire body. If the rumba was more sensual than the way he’d danced with her last night, heaven help her. She’d go up in flames.

‘And I have a soft spot for the cha cha cha. Come on, let’s get back to it. I want to teach you how to do a New York. You tend to do it at the end of chassé—that’s the “cha cha cha” step—and you’ll know exactly when we’re going to do this, because I’ll let go of your right hand when we’re moving to the right and place my left hand under yours.’

Back at the studio, he talked her through the move, doing everything at a slow walking pace.

‘It’s a bit like the promenade step,’ she said, ‘with our feet.’

‘A bit,’ he said, ‘except you move your arm out to the side.’ He talked her through the hand positions, then put the music on and practised the new step with her.

To her surprise, she found it easy. Compared to the effort she’d put into the foxtrot and the way she’d felt like a failure because she couldn’t grasp it, this was like a dream. Something she hadn’t believed possible.

‘Ready to add another step?’ he asked.

‘Already?’

‘Already,’ he confirmed. ‘This one’s fun. It’s called a spot turn, because you turn on the spot—and it’s also why you need to keep your hand very loose in mine, otherwise you’ll twist your arm.’

It took a little while for Polly to do it right but, when she finally managed to keep her feet still and spin round, it felt amazing. ‘I can’t believe it was so easy! Why was I having trouble with it?’

‘Because you’re still learning.’ But he was smiling, and warmth spread through her. A genuine smile from Liam could send her temperature rocketing.

‘It’s really clicked, hasn’t it?’ he asked.

‘How do you know?’

‘Your eyes are shining.’

And how tempted Liam was to dip his head and kiss her. Not on the cheek, the way he did at the end of a lesson, but properly. The way he’d wanted to kiss her last night, when Polly had looked up at him with those huge eyes and parted lips. This was crazy. Neither of them was in the right place for a relationship, even for a fling. And he didn’t want to take any risks, let someone that close to him again. This had to stop. Right now.

He held himself in check—just—and forced himself to concentrate on teaching her the steps instead of giving in to the temptation to pull her close and to hell with the dancing.

The rest of the lesson flew by. ‘See you in the morning, then. Have a nice afternoon.’ He waited until she’d gone before switching on the music system again and going through the latest routine he’d been working out for the professional dancers on the show.