Kate Hardy – If The Ring Fits...: Ballroom to Bride and Groom / A Bride for the Maverick Millionaire / Promoted: Secretary to Bride! (страница 17)

‘New job?’ Charlie asked.

‘Not even the sniff of an audition, right now,’ she admitted. ‘But I can’t work on Monday Mash-up again.’

The boys stayed there for long enough to do some dancing for the cameras on Step by Step, and to tell all the viewers to vote for Polly.

‘We’d better let you get on,’ Danny said when the camera crew had gone, and the three of them gave her a hug and kiss goodbye.

‘They’re nice lads. I can see why you miss them,’ Liam said. ‘But come on, you, back to work.’

She knew he’d seen the glimmer of tears in her eyes and guessed exactly why they were there. But there was also an additional guilty layer: the fact that she was missing the crew, but she wasn’t missing Harry. And shouldn’t she be missing the man she’d been going to marry?

On Friday, Polly was enjoying their last real practice of the routine. She loved the music. She’d always thought of herself as the girl-next-door type; but the way she was dancing with Liam made her feel sexy. More attractive than she’d felt in years. She lost herself in the dance, to the point where she ended up overbalancing on a spin. Liam caught her before she fell and pulled her against his body to steady her. ‘OK?’

‘OK,’ she whispered.

Except she was aware of every drop of blood thudding through her veins, the way Liam was just that little bit too close, to the point where she could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She could feel the moment that his breathing changed, became faster and shallower, and glanced up at him to see that he was staring at her mouth. A moment later, she was staring at his. Thinking. Wondering.

They were a whisper away from kissing. Just as they’d been at the club.

She felt hot all over. Maybe it was the music or the dancing, she tried to tell herself, but she knew that wasn’t strictly true. It was Liam making her feel all hot and bothered. And she couldn’t drag her gaze away.

But then Amanda opened the studio door. ‘Sorry to interrupt. There’s a phone call for you, Liam. It’s Barney, that guy from the Broadway show.’

Liam set Polly on her feet. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

‘No worries. It sounds important.’ Hadn’t he said he wanted to work with a Broadway cast?

‘It is, a bit. Thanks.’

Polly took advantage of the moment to splash her face with cold water. Yes, Liam Flynn was gorgeousness personified, and a really nice guy to boot, but she couldn’t get involved with him. Even if it wasn’t too soon after Harry, there were other things in the way. Liam wanted to work on Broadway when Ballroom Glitz had finished; this phone call sounded as if he was well on his way to making that happen.

She intended to stay in London. Long-distance relationships didn’t work—she’d seen too many showbiz couples break up because of it. She wouldn’t expect Liam to give up his dreams for her; but she wouldn’t want to give up the security of her life in London for him, either.

So she just had to forget about that near-kiss. They couldn’t get involved.

To her relief, Liam acted as if nothing had been about to happen when he came back into the studio, and they finished polishing the routine.

On Saturday, just before the dress rehearsal, Liam was waiting in the Green Room. He did a double take when Polly walked in. She looked stunning. OK, so he’d been there when she’d chosen the costume, but he hadn’t actually seen her try it on. The tomboyish kids’ TV presenter had morphed into a gorgeous, kittenish flirt. Especially when she practised one of the cha cha cha steps as she walked, making her hips sway. It was sultry and sexy as hell. The movement ruffled her swishy skirt, but it ruffled his composure even more.

‘I had no idea you had such fantastic legs.’ Annoyance with himself at the way he was letting her get to him made him snippy. ‘Why do you always dress in awful clothes?’

‘I don’t dress in awful clothes,’ Polly protested.

‘Yes, you do. You have those shapeless long-sleeved T-shirts—and if you’re not in baggy jeans, you’re in shapeless black trousers.’

She lifted her chin. ‘So you’re saying I’m unfeminine?’

‘No, I’m saying that you hide yourself and I don’t understand why.’ He lifted both his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘It’s none of my business, I know, and if you’re doing a kids’ show I guess you need to dress the part.’

She sighed. ‘Grace was feminine. That’s what gave Harry the kaboom.’

If he didn’t have such a tight rein on his emotions, he had a nasty feeling that she’d be giving him the kaboom. ‘If Harry saw you wearing what you’re wearing now, you’d give him the kaboom.’

‘Three weeks ago, I would’ve wanted to hear that,’ Polly said.

‘And now?’ Liam asked, his throat feeling scratchy.

‘Now,’ she said, ‘it doesn’t matter. I’ve had time to think. And you’re right. I can’t let my happiness rely on someone else. Only on me.’

This time, they were on third on the show. And Polly started smiling as soon as the music started. This time, the dance was over far too quickly.

The applause astounded her. As did the praise from the judges.

At the end of the show, they were in sixth place on the judges’ leader board. Millie came over to her with a microphone. ‘How do you feel, Polly?’

‘Utterly thrilled that we’re not bottom this week!’ Polly said, beaming. ‘I loved learning the cha cha cha.’

‘And you hope that you’ll be here next week?’

She nodded. ‘I really want to stay in, because next week is the waltz. I’ve always wanted to do that—whenever I’ve watched the show, the dancers looked so romantic in those floaty dresses.’

‘If you want to see Polly Anna and Liam doing the waltz next week, phone up and vote for them!’ Millie ordered the audience.

While they were waiting for the phone lines to close, the professional dancers did two numbers, and there was a chart act playing their last hit and the newest single.

Polly tried not to let her nerves get the better of her. This week was the first elimination. Even though they’d managed to stay out of the bottom two on the leader board, if the public hadn’t responded to them and they ended up in the bottom two once the votes were taken into account they would be in the dance off.

‘And now, the moment you’ve been waiting for—the results,’ Millie intoned.

All the couples walked onto the stage and waited in their allotted spots, with a light fixed on each of them. Polly’s heart was pounding so hard, she was sure the audience would be able to hear it.

Liam stood behind her with his arms wrapped round her. He dipped his head so he could whisper into her ear, ‘Stop worrying. It doesn’t matter if we end up in the dance off. You’ve done really well tonight and you know you can do it.’

‘And the first couple who will be going to the dance off tonight, in no particular order, are Jane and André.’

The next two names were a blur.

‘Also going through next week—Polly Anna and Liam!’

For a second, Polly couldn’t take it in.

They were through.

They were through! She whooped and mouthed ‘Thank you’ to the cameras, then spun round and kissed Liam as the spotlight above them switched off.

Liam’s arms wrapped round her, holding her close.

And then his mouth moved against hers. Teasing her. Coaxing her. Tiny, nibbling kisses that made her press herself against him and tip her head back, changing the angle between them so he could part her lips and deepen the kiss.

Kaboom.

So this was what it felt like. As if her blood were fizzing through her veins. As if a thousand starbursts had lit up the sky. As if she were floating. And her senses were filled with Liam. The softness of his skin against hers, the citrusy scent of his shower gel, the warmth of his arms wrapped round her, the sweetness of his mouth.

She’d never, ever felt like this before, wanting the kiss to last until the end of time because it was so utterly, utterly perfect.

But then Liam stopped kissing her and Polly was horribly aware of a low catcall coming from Kyle, the footballer who was one place above them on the leader board.

‘You two had better hope the cameras didn’t catch that,’ he said.

Oh, no. If that had been shown on national TV, the gossip rags would be going crazy. She and Liam had both had more than enough column inches about them for the wrong reasons.

She pulled back. ‘Whoops. Guess I got a bit overexcited about getting through to next week,’ she said lightly.

She couldn’t meet Liam’s eyes as the shame scalded through her. She’d just let him kiss her stupid onstage, in front of millions. Worse still, she’d incited it by kissing him in the first place.

How stupid was she?

‘I—I’d better get changed. See you tomorrow,’ she said, and raced off the stage, not wanting to face him again until she’d had time to cool down and get her common sense back.

CHAPTER EIGHT

POLLY had a whole night to think about what an idiot she’d been. Not only had she let Liam kiss her stupid onstage, she’d fled afterwards, too flustered to face him. She hadn’t answered her phone or a single text message. She’d just holed up in her flat, filled with panic about her recklessness.

OK, so this had been building up ever since they’d danced together at the club. Ever since he’d nearly kissed her in training. She’d known deep down that it would happen.