Kate Hardy – If The Ring Fits...: Ballroom to Bride and Groom / A Bride for the Maverick Millionaire / Promoted: Secretary to Bride! (страница 12)

‘OK.’ She summoned up a smile. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Monday’s training session went well, but Polly’s confidence had evaporated by the time she got to the wardrobe department. Thankfully one of the dresses Rhoda had selected for her had long sleeves; it was the right length, too. Sea green and floaty, with silver shoes.

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.’