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.
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.