“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 on to 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.
Dear Reader,
This is a special book for me, as it’s my very first Mills & Boon ®Cherish ™, and I’m so thrilled to have joined the line. Readers of my Riva ™and Medical Romances always mention the warmth of my voice when they write to me, so Cherish really feels like home.
It’s also special because I managed to talk my husband into being my research assistant for this one. I’ve always enjoyed watching ballroom dancing TV shows. When I first thought about writing this book I discovered that a brand-new beginners’ class was being set up locally. We joined the class so I could get an idea of what it was like for my heroine, learning to dance. It’s been enormous fun, and we’re still going to classes—it’s lovely being whirled round a dance floor!
I also couldn’t resist setting part of the story in Vienna, because we had a fabulous family trip there and it’s a beautiful, beautiful city. (No dancing. But we did have to try pastries, listen to street musicians and take a trip in a horse-drawn carriage—all for research purposes, though not all of it ended up here!)
This is a story about second chances and how love can change everything. Polly’s bright and bouncy and happy, but she’s hiding a tragic past; Liam’s much more guarded because he had everything, lost the lot, and is putting his life back together again. Liam teaches Polly to dance, but they both teach each other a much more important lesson: how to love.
I’m always delighted to hear from readers, so do come and visit me at www.katehardy.com.
With love
Kate Hardy
KATE HARDYlives in Norwich, in the east of England, with her husband, two young children, one bouncy spaniel, and too many books to count! When she’s not busy writing romance or researching local history, she helps out at her children’s schools. She also loves cooking—spot the recipes sneaked into her books! (They’re also on her website, along with extracts and stories behind the books.) Writing for Mills & Boon has been a dream come true for Kate—something she wanted to do ever since she was twelve. She’s been writing Medical Romances for nearly five years now, and also writes for Modern Romance. TMShe says it’s the best of both worlds, because she gets to learn lots of new things when she’s researching the background to a book: add a touch of passion, drama and danger, a new gorgeous hero every time, and it’s the perfect job!
Kate’s always delighted to hear from readers, so do drop in to her website at www.katehardy.com.
Ballroom to
Bride and Groom
Kate Hardy
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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For Anna and Sheila, my wonderful editors—and for my cheer squad (you know who you are)—with heartfelt thanks for having more faith in me than I did. xxx
‘POLLY, I know you said you were fine, but I was passing anyway, and I thought I’d just drop in and—’ Shona did a double take and stopped short. ‘What happened to your hair?’
‘I cut it last night.’ With nail scissors. The long, straight blonde hair Harry had said he loved was no more. And at least getting rid of it had been Polly’s choice. Something that was under her control.
‘Cut? Hacked, more like. Has Fliss seen it?’
‘Um, no.’ And Polly knew her best friend would panic, remembering what Polly had done half a lifetime ago. Her lowest point, when she’d sworn that her life would be perfect from then on, no matter how hard she had to work at it. When she’d learned to smile her way through absolutely anything.
Shona blew out a breath. ‘We need to get you to the hairdresser’s. Like now.’
Polly waved a dismissive hand. ‘I’m fine. It’s not as if anyone’s going to see me. I don’t have to go in to the studio.’
‘That, sweetie, is where you’re wrong. Coffee, first,’ Shona said crisply. ‘And, while I’m making it, you need to get changed. The sort of stuff you wore for Monday Mash-up will be just fine.’
‘I don’t work on Monday Mash-up any more.’ Polly shrugged. ‘Anyway, I’m busy.’
‘Doing things that Harry really ought to be doing, since he was the one who called off the wedding,’ Shona said, her mouth thinning.
‘I’m the one who organised it, so it’s easier for me to do it. I have the contacts,’ Polly pointed out.
She left unsaid what they were both thinking: it also meant that Grace wouldn’t be involved. Cancelling the wedding arrangements less than two weeks before the big day was tough enough; letting her ex-fiancé’s new girlfriend do it would be just too much to bear. And she knew that Harry would definitely delegate cancelling everything: he’d give that little-boy-lost look that always got him his own way.
‘I could strangle Harry, I really could. Selfish doesn’t even begin to—’ Shona stopped. ‘But you already know what I think. OK. Go and get changed while I sort the coffee and make that hair appointment. Oh, and put some stuff under your eyes.’
To cover up the shadows Polly knew were there. It was one of the disadvantages of having fair skin; even one night without sleep meant she had dark shadows under her eyes. She hadn’t slept for several, since Harry had told her that he couldn’t marry her.
‘I do love you, Pol, but…’
As he said the words, someone filled her veins with liquid nitrogen. Freezing her.
But.
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