definitely wasn’t going to let what had happened with Harry shred her confidence. She’d been totally professional and given her best on Monday Mash-up, and she’d do exactly the same on Ballroom Glitz.
‘And now the moment you’ve been waiting for—the official line-up,’ Millie, the glamorous presenter of the show, announced.
There was a drum roll while the dancers stood on the floor, waiting for their partners to join them, and the celebs lined the staircase.
You’re not going to trip, Polly told herself firmly. You’re not going to trip. Take it step by step. Remember to smile for the cameras.
She barely took in which male celebrity was paired with which female dancer. She felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights. But then it came to the girls, and her hands went clam my.
‘And with André …’ Please, please, not me, she begged silently.
She breathed a sigh of relief as Jane, the comedienne, was announced as his partner. Mr No-Sense-of-Humour with the comic: the pairing appealed to Polly’s sense of mischief. It was exactly what she would’ve done, as a producer. What Harry would’ve done.
Forget about Harry, she reminded herself sharply. He isn’t here and he isn’t part of your life any more.
‘With Marco …’ Imogen, the model. They made a beautiful couple.
‘With Sergei …’ Her heart skipped a beat. Would it be her?
‘Lina.’ The pop singer. Another glamorous, beautiful couple. Which meant …
‘And finally, with Liam, Polly Anna Adams.’
She walked down the stairs, smiling for the cameras, and walked over to Liam as everyone applauded.
Wow. That gorgeous smile she’d seen on the small screen was even more devastating in the flesh. Liam Flynn was stunning. His skin was very pale, in sharp contrast to his dark hair, and there was a light sprinkling of stubble on his cheeks that made her itch to reach out and trail her fingertips across it.
Not that she’d do that. Especially in front of the cameras. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself.
But he had a beautiful mouth. Full, generous—lush.
And his eyes were almost navy blue. With his colouring, they were absolutely mesmerising.
She bit her lip, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her giving him the eye. And what on earth was she doing, having thoughts like this about another man merely a week before her wedding-day-that-wasn’t? Clearly she was letting the roar of the crowd and the glitziness of the lights get to her.
She shook herself. Be professional. That was what she had to do. And do it now.
Polly Anna Adams was much prettier in the flesh than she’d been in the video clips, with huge eyes, a heart-shaped face and a perfect rosebud mouth that just invited Liam to rub his thumb along her lower lip.
Though he had no intention of giving in to the mad temptation. This was strictly business. And he didn’t do involvement on any level, any more. Not since Bianca. He’d learned the hard way that he was better off on his own. Besides, he didn’t have the time. He had a business to set up and a career to get back on track.
He dutifully kissed Polly’s cheeks for the audience, and caught her scent. Light, floral with a hint of vanilla. Sweet and innocent. Nothing like the sultry, spicy scent that Bianca had used.
She reminded him of Audrey Hepburn, with that urchin haircut and those huge chocolate-brown eyes. The wardrobe department had obviously clocked that, too, giving her a simple black shift dress teamed with long silky gloves, a pearl choker, and classic high-heeled court shoes. The outfit wasn’t like the eye-wincingly bright clothes Polly Anna had worn in the video clips—of course not, because she needed casual clothing to do all the mad stuff with the kids on Monday Mash-up—but it suited her down to the ground. Glamorous, graceful …
And then she slipped on those high, high heels as she turned to face the audience.
Scratch graceful, he thought wryly.
Automatically, he caught her and steadied her.
‘Thanks,’ she mouthed, and her blush was visible right through the studio pan stick. ‘And sorry.’
But the audience weren’t laughing at the unintended slapstick. They were clapping even more. Because she’d shown that she was human, just like them: not some impossibly glamorous model or pop star they could only be like in their dreams.
Once the show was off air and they were heading back towards the Green Room, Polly bit her lip. ‘I’m really sorry about that. I’m not used to walking in heels.’
Or dancing, Liam thought, but he couldn’t quite be unkind enough to say so. ‘Tomorrow’s Sunday. Are you OK to start training then, or do you need to be in rehearsals for your show?’
‘I’m—I guess you’d say resting, right now,’ she admitted, looking awkward.
Showbiz-speak for unemployed. Which gave her a real motivation for staying in the competition.
‘I can fit training sessions around whatever suits you. If I get any auditions, I should be able to give you at least a day’s notice,’ she finished.
‘Good. Lark or owl?’
She blinked. ‘I’m sorry?’
Lord, her eyes were gorgeous. He could drown in them.
He pushed the thought away. For pity’s sake. He needed to concentrate on doing his job, not let himself get distracted by a pretty face. Hadn’t he learned a thing from his past? ‘Are you better working earlier or later in the day?’
‘Oh. I’m a morning person. As long as I’ve had a cup of coffee, first.’ She gave him what he thought might be the first real smile he’d seen from her, one that put a dimple in her cheek and a sparkle in those huge eyes. A smile that made him catch his breath.
‘Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight, then, at my studio.’ He handed her a business card, and his skin tingled where his fingers brushed against hers. Which was insane: he couldn’t afford to let himself get distracted. ‘My mobile number’s on the back, in case you’re going to be late or can’t make it.’
‘Thank you. I’m sorry, I don’t have a business card with me, but I’ll text you on the way home so you have my number,’ she said.
‘Fine. See you at eight, then,’ Liam said. And then he left abruptly, before he let himself do something totally stupid. Like wondering if her lips were as soft and as sweet as they looked. And then being tempted to dip his head to find out …
LIAM glanced at his watch when the studio’s entry-system intercom buzzed the next morning. Five to eight. Polly Anna was actually on time.
He’d always had to give Bianca a fake deadline two hours earlier than the real one, to give them a hope of being on time—whether it was work or a social event—and it had driven him crazy.
At least Polly Anna was sparing him that. So far.
‘Hello? It’s Polly Anna Adams, here for training with Mr Flynn.’
‘Let’s drop the formalities. I’m Liam,’ he said. ‘I’ll buzz you in. The studio’s on the third floor.’
He waited in the reception area for her to walk up the two flights of stairs. As she emerged through the door, she caught her bag on the door handle, and the door banged against her.
Her face went crimson. ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Fl—Liam,’ she corrected herself.
Impatience