it’s your choice within that selection. I’ll be in a black tailcoat with a white shirt and a white tie, so you won’t clash with me, whatever colour you choose.’
‘Any colour I like?’ she tested.
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Maybe not quite as bright as the stuff you used to wear on Monday Mash-up.’
She laughed. ‘Very tactful. OK. Noted. Something classy. Anything else I need to look for?’
‘Keep the hem of your dress just above your ankle, so your heel won’t catch in the material, and pick shoes with a similar heel height to the ones you’ve been dancing in. And you’ll need to dance in them for the rest of the week, so you get used to the weight and the feel of them.’
‘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
