Page 11

“I’m going for a tennis lesson, Baby. Do you want to join me?

” my mum asks at the cabin after breakfast the next day.

My dad’s already left to play golf, and Lisa announced she’s going to work on her tan for the swimwear heat of the beauty competition taking place in a few days.

My plans of sneaking off quietly look slim.

“I’m going to take part in. . . the treasure hunt,” I blurt, remembering one of the activities blared at me from various loud speakers on our walk to the dining hall.

Lisa narrows her eyes at me but doesn’t say anything, no doubt thinking that she’ll be invited next and it’ll ruin her plans for the day.

“That sounds wonderful.” My mum beams at me. “I’m pleased to see you’re having fun.”

“Yes Mum, loads,” I say quickly and jump down the cabin steps before she can say anything else.

I dart between the wooden chalets and follow the directions Billy gave me to the dance studio.

It’s a large low building on the edge of the guest space, not far from the path to the staff quarters.

It’s light and airy, partly due to one wall being mostly windows, but also because of the opposite wall, which is composed of mirrors.

There are a couple of easy chairs and a low table to one side of the room.

I hesitate on the threshold, feeling the enormity of what I’ve agreed to now that I’m here.

I could turn around now and leave. It isn’t my problem, so I don’t know why I’m doing this.

And Johnny was right, this is a bad idea.

But I’ve promised to help, and I can’t deny the thought of spending some time with Johnny is very appealing.

I take a deep breath and enter, feeling immediately self-conscious about seeing myself reflected back in the huge mirrors.

Johnny has his back to me, bent over a record player, a disc in his hand. He’s wearing nothing but black jeans and a black vest that shows off his impressive biceps. I can’t see anyone else in the room, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

My steps make a noise on the wooden dance floor and Johnny looks over.

“Oh!” he exclaims, looking surprised. I stop, poised to leave. Was he expecting someone else?

“Don’t you remember?” I ask tentatively, suddenly wondering if I’ve somehow imagined it all. He at least breaks into a smile.

“I’ve just lost a bet with Billy. I was certain you wouldn’t show,” he says walking over to me.

Well, that would account for his surprise, but I’m not sure I like being the subject of a bet, or that he had so little faith in me .

I stare at the floor for a minute, deciding if I should really make my excuses and leave. But I can’t, not now I’m here, so instead I look up at him.

“How much am I worth?”

“A fiver.” His face doesn’t show a hint of humour, which makes it feel much worse.

That’s a lot of money. I feel my eyebrows shoot up, closely followed by the sinking feeling that he really didn’t think I’d show up if he was willing to risk so much. I also feel bad that he lost so much money.

“I can go if you like, and you can tell Billy I didn’t show up.”

He doesn’t say anything, which I take to be that he agrees with me, or is at least considering it. I spin round and take a couple of steps, but he grabs my arm. I look down at his large hand holding onto my bicep. My skin instantly feels hot where he’s touching me. I glance up at him.

“We’re doing this for Penny, right?”

“Yes.” I nod. He drops my arm, though I can still feel the tingle of pressure as he returns to the record player and puts on some music.

“Take off your socks and shoes,” he commands.

I notice he’s barefoot. “Is that because you’re scared I’ll stand on your toes and hurt you?”

“Is it a possibility?” The corners of his mouth twitch.

“I did tell you I can’t dance,” I call over my shoulder, as I walk to the side of the room and sit on one of the chairs to remove my shoes.

When I stand he’s in the middle of the room, waiting for me.

I can’t believe I’m going to actually do this.

.. learn to dance with the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

I swallow round my dry throat and take a deep breath.

It doesn’t mean anything of course, I remind myself.

As he said, we’re just doing this for Penny.

Even so, nerves make me feel unsteady as I move across the room. Even walking feels unnatural knowing he’s watching me. I stand in front of him, trying to keep my breathing even, and he puts a hand on each of my shoulders and gives a me a little shake.

“Relax,” he says softly.

“That obvious, huh?”

He answers with a soft smile, one that permeates my body and unwinds some of the tight coils in my chest.

“Now, feel the beat,” he says, nodding his head slightly in time to the music and counting to four quietly. I count with him, over and over.

“Now, we step on the two,” he says, resuming counting. “Are you ready?”

I nod. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

“One.”

I step on his foot.

“Ow!”

“Shit. Sorry!” I back off a little way but he grabs my hand.

“You need to really feel the beat. In here.” He lifts my hand to his chest and places it over his heart.

His chest is solid and warm and I can feel the strong thump of his heart. I’m glad we’re not dancing to the beat of mine, as it’s tapping some wildly erratic beat right now that I wouldn’t be able to keep up to .

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, and focus on the rhythm I can feel, not that I’m touching another man’s chest. His chest. Slowly he starts moving and this time I follow him.

He places his other hand on my waist and I reach mine up to his shoulder.

We move round the dance studio and it feels effortless, and I begin to enjoy myself.

When the song ends he releases me, and goes to the record player to restart the music.

I catch sight of myself in the mirror wall and see my huge grin reflected back at me.

That was the last of the feeling of it being effortless, as for the next few hours he puts me to work. He breaks down the step sequences, dances them with me, and then has me dancing them by myself so he can watch.

Occasionally he barks at me. “Keep your back straight. Head up, don’t look at your feet.”

Once I’ve got the idea of the steps and putting them together, he moves on to the turns.

It makes me feel dizzy and I crash into him.

His jaw stiffens in annoyance after the third time, but what does he expect?

I’ve never danced like this before. I do not count my shuffling around the ballroom with Nicola as dancing after experiencing this.

Eventually, when I’m tired, hot, and my legs feel like jelly, he calls a halt, probably fearing I’ll step on him or fall on him again. We agree to practice again the same time tomorrow.

“Hey, kid,” he calls when I reach the door.

“I’m not a kid,” I say through gritted teeth and he huffs a laugh.

“Is calling you a baby any better?”

“Not a baby. Baby.” I point out, and he raises an eyebrow at me, like he doesn’t see the difference.

I’ve grown so used to it over the years, I’ve not really thought about how it might look to someone else, and I’ve never really minded.

But although he didn’t say it mockingly, I do mind that he sees me as young or like a child.

His expression softens. “You did good today. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I nod and leave, hurrying back to make it in time for a wash before dinner. Pride blooms in my chest that at least I didn’t land totally on my arse.