by Louise Hall
“You know,” Declan grinned, “dancing is supposed to be fun.”
He came up behind Cate and put his hands on her hips. “What are you doing?” she jumped.
“We’re going to try something different.” He began to move her hips. “Close your eyes.”
“No,” Cate spluttered. “We met like five minutes ago. I don’t know you.”
Declan turned her around to face him. He had the most beautiful emerald-green eyes. “I want to teach you how to dance, chara, but if I’m going to do that I need you to trust me.”
Cate realised that she didn’t have a choice. If she didn’t want to embarrass herself on national TV, she had to trust Declan. She turned her back to him and closed her eyes.
His fingers pressed against her stomach. Even though they’d only met for the first time that morning, it felt strangely comforting. She didn’t have to think about how awkward she looked and what steps came next because Declan was behind her, manoeuvring her body into each position. With her eyes closed, she could just submit to his choreography.
“Smaller steps,” he said softly. His warm breath tickled her neck.
“Open your eyes again,” Declan stopped. Cate blinked, her eyes struggling to adjust to the harsh light of the studio. When she looked in the mirror and saw Declan’s arms circling her waist, her first instinct was to pull away. He shouldn’t be holding her like that – he was a stranger and she was married with three children.
Declan must have seen the panic in her eyes. “One more time and then I’ll let you go.”
“Eyes open this time.” Cate watched through the mirrors as Declan danced their moulded bodies through the full routine. It was a tantalising glimpse of what the dance could be like, if she worked hard enough and trusted him.
When he let go, Cate immediately missed his heat and strength.
Declan pushed a hand through his dark-brown hair which stood up at funny angles. “I’m starving. Let’s grab some lunch.”
A couple of blocks from the gym there was a cute little diner, Max’s. As they pushed through the swinging doors, Cate’s phone rang. “I’m so sorry,” she apologised to Declan as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. It was Nate. “I’ve really got to take this.”
Sierra, who was only ten months old, had had a slight temperature when she’d left the house earlier that morning. Cate hadn’t wanted to leave her but Nate had assured her that even though it was probably nothing to worry about, he would take Sierra to the paediatrician’s office and if it was anything at all, he’d let Cate know straight away.
“Everything OK?” Declan asked when Cate slid back into the booth a couple of minutes later.
Cate didn’t want him to think that she was being unprofessional. “My baby wasn’t feeling very well this morning.”
Declan’s eyes lit up, “you’ve got children?”
“Three,” Cate beamed. She showed him their photos on her phone. “Lola’s eight, Mateo’s almost two and a half and Sierra’s ten months.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“What about you?” Cate asked as the waitress brought over their drinks. She took a sip of the ice-cold water. “Have you got any children?”
“Nah,” Declan shrugged his shoulders, “not yet.” He showed Cate a photo of his wife, Hadley. She was petite with long, almost white-blonde hair, a nose ring and tattoos snaking up her right arm.
“Does she live in L.A.?”
Declan frowned, “no. She’s back home in Ireland. She can’t get a visa to come to America.”
Cate wanted to know more but she didn’t want to pry. “You must miss her a lot.”
“I do,” Declan sighed. “This might be my last series of Stepping Out. I’m thinking of auditioning for the British version, at least then I’d be a bit closer to home, you know?”
As Declan talked about the small seaport town on the south coast of Ireland where he and Hadley had grown up, Cate realised that it was the same town where Kian’s dad’s family were from. She felt a pang of sadness when she thought about Eamon. Her family had always been close with the Warners, her older brother, Ben had been friends with Kian since childhood.
It was easy to eulogise people after they were gone but Eamon had been incredibly kind to Cate’s family. She’d never known her biological father; he’d left before she was born.
Eamon had died when she was eighteen. He’d had a massive heart attack while he was driving home from work one night. His car had crashed through the central reservation of the motorway and into oncoming traffic.
“You don’t know Sadie Warner, do you?” Cate asked, thinking of Kian’s aunt who still lived there.
Declan blinked, “I do, actually. She was my Sunday school teacher.”
CHAPTER 5
“What are you doing still awake, sweet girl?” Kian asked his youngest daughter, Sierra. She’d pulled herself up to standing, her tiny little fists were wrapped around the bars of her cot. She looked so cute in her pink onesie and with her inky-black hair all mussed-up.
When she saw her daddy, she giggled, that tinkling little laugh wrapping itself fiercely around Kian’s heart. She would be his and Cate’s third and last child together.
“Where’s Mummy?” he lifted Sierra up out of her cot and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Sierra wriggled, kicking her legs.
Cate was sleeping softly, curled up on the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery, wrapped up in the silver-grey fleece blanket her sister, Remy had bought them when their first child, Lola was born all those years ago.
As he bent over to kiss his wife’s cheek, Sierra wrapped her tiny fist around a chunk of Cate’s hair and gave it a hard tug. “Ouch,” Cate whimpered, her eyes blinking open.
“Sorry,” Kian said sheepishly. Although he’d hardly seen her since she’d started rehearsals for Stepping Out, he really hadn’t meant to wake her up just now.
“It’s OK,” Cate smiled at him. She reached out her arms for her youngest daughter. “Come here, you little munchkin. You’re supposed to be asleep.”
Sierra reached for Cate’s hair again. “No, you don’t.” Cate laughed, scooping her hair up out of her daughter’s reach with one hand. She put Sierra down in her cot and reached for her favourite toy, a cuddly dolphin. Sierra didn’t like the dark so Cate switched on the gentle nightlight next to her cot and tucked the covers around her. “I love you, munchkin.”
When she got to the door, Cate turned around and Sierra had shrugged off her covers and was stood at the bars again, looking at them with those big, black doe-eyes. “Do you think we should…?” Cate turned to Kian.
She was so tempted to bring Sierra back to bed with them. She was already feeling incredibly guilty that she was spending so much time away from her children while rehearsing for Stepping Out. But she and Kian had agreed when she was pregnant with Lola that they wouldn’t let any of the children sleep in bed with them. There had been lapses over the years but it was important to both of them that they had that precious space where they could be husband and wife and not just Lola, Mateo and Sierra’s parents.
“She’ll be fine,” Kian put his hands on Cate’s shoulders and gently turned her around. “As soon as we’ve gone, she’ll settle down and go to sleep. You know she will.”
“How did rehearsals go today?” Kian asked when they were in their own bedroom. He’d stripped down to his boxer shorts.
“It was good,” Cate reached for her phone. “I’ve got some footage if you’d like to have a look?”
While Kian was watching the footage, Cate went into the bathroom. When she came back, he was scowling. “Don’t you like it?”
“I know it’s only dancing,” Kian grunted, “but does he have to put his hands all over you like that?”
Cate rolled her eyes. “We’re both awake and at home for the first time in ten days, do you really want to waste it talking about dancing?”
“That’s a very good point,” Kian said huskily. He reached for her
wrists and tugged her towards him. Cate was wearing a pair of black silk pyjamas. The top was unbuttoned just enough that he could see the shadow of her cleavage. The silk clung sinfully to the swell of her breasts, drawing his eyes to the tight buds of her nipples. He slid his hands slowly down her back and over her bottom and dipped his head, taking her nipple into the wet heat of his mouth. “Ow,” Cate cried. The added friction of the silk pushed it over the edge into painful.
“What’s wrong?” Kian immediately looked up.
Cate put her hands over her breasts, “they feel really strange. I must have knocked them during training or something.”
As she stripped off her pyjama top, Kian looked at her bare breasts. “They aren’t bruised.”
“Maybe I’m due?” Her cycle had been screwed up ever since she’d had Sierra.
“Mama?” Mateo’s voice came through the monitor; he’d woken up and was thirsty. When Cate came back from getting him a glass of water, Kian was stood at the side of the bed. “Take your top off,” he instructed.
Cate hesitated. As much as she wanted to make love with her husband tonight, she was aching all over from training.
As if he could read her mind, Kian gently stroked her cheek, “it’s not about that, not tonight.”
When he stepped back, she saw that he’d made a makeshift support for her sore breasts out of pillows. “Lie down on your front, angel.”
Cate took off her pyjama top and clambered up on to the bed. The gap in the centre of the mound of pillows was just big enough for her boobs to fit inside.
Kian knelt down; she felt a gentle pressure on the backs of her thighs. “I thought you might be sore,” he explained, drizzling a little warm oil down her spine, “so I asked the Seattle F.C. masseuse for some tips.”
“Oh my goodness,” Cate rested her head on the lovely soft pillows, “that feels amazing, Kian. If I wasn’t crazily in love with you before, this would definitely seal the deal.”
“That’s good to know,” he chuckled. After he’d finished soothing all of the aches and pains from her neck, shoulders and back, he moved down to her legs. He carefully lifted up her hips so he could tug off her silk pyjama bottoms.
“I feel guilty,” Cate said softly as he gently massaged her ugly, blistered feet. “I’ve only been dancing for a couple of weeks and I already feel like I’ve been hit by a ten ton truck. I can’t even imagine how you must feel having played professional football for all those years. I should have learned how to do this for you before now.”
“If you want to give me a massage,” Kian smirked, “you won’t get any complaints from me but seriously, angel. It hurts so much because you’re using muscles that you’re not accustomed to. I’m not saying that it doesn’t hurt playing football anymore but I’m used to it by now.”
After he’d finished with the backs of her legs, he cleaned off the excess oil and gently flipped her over on to her front.
“I still feel like such a wimp,” Cate said as Kian knelt over her and massaged her upper arms. “When Stepping Out is over, I promise I’ll go to the nearest bookstore and buy a Massage for Dummies book so I can try and return the favour.”
“Whatever you want,” he gently brushed his lips against hers.
He knelt back on his heels and looked down at her breasts, “as much as I might want to, I’m not going to touch them. I think anything I do might make them feel worse.”
“I think you might be right,” Cate winced.
“I want to come to the first show,” Kian insisted as he smoothed his hands over her slender thighs.
Cate wriggled away from him, “I don’t know if I want that.”
She tried to explain, hating the hurt she saw in his dark eyes. “You got jealous just watching that training footage.”
Kian frowned, “as long as you’re both fully clothed and he doesn’t kiss you, I’ll be fine.”
Cate softened a little, “he doesn’t want to kiss me any more than I want to kiss him.”
“Do you remember the World Cup in Portugal?”
“How could I forget?” Cate felt sick. She tried taking some deep breaths. It was every little boy’s dream to play at the World Cup finals and Cate had wanted to travel to Portugal to support Kian but he’d asked her not to go. After England had been knocked out in the quarter-finals by Sweden, Kian had cheated on her with his sister’s friend, Jenna. Cate had only found out what he’d done months later when Jenna had come to their house on Christmas Eve. She’d later twisted the knife by selling her story to one of the tabloid newspapers back home in England.
Cate jumped out of bed and clutching her stomach, ran to the bathroom. The soles of her feet were still greasy so she skidded on the tiles and barely made it to the toilet bowl before she vomited. She felt Kian pull her hair back and winced; she didn’t want him to see her like this. He gently rubbed her back, staying with her until she collapsed, her sweaty forehead pressed against the cold toilet seat. He left her side for a minute but quickly returned with a damp cloth. “Do you still feel sick, angel?”
Cate shook her head; her insides felt as though they’d been hollowed out. When she tried to get up, her legs were still shaky and she stumbled. Kian scooped her up and carried her back to bed. “I must have eaten something funny,” Cate croaked. “I’m so sorry.”
Kian climbed into bed, wrapping her up in his arms. “It was one of the worst mistakes I ever made not asking you and Lo to come to Portugal with me.”
CHAPTER 6
Cate flew to L.A. on Friday morning; the first episode of Stepping Out was going to be filmed on Saturday evening. It was the first time she’d ever been on an aeroplane by herself. Declan had flown to L.A. on Thursday afternoon because it was one of his friend’s birthdays and Kian wouldn’t be arriving until Saturday morning because Seattle F.C. had a home match against Kansas City tonight.
The studio had kindly sent a car for her and as she settled back against the comfy black leather seat, she looked over her schedule for the next two days. It made her dizzy even just looking at it. She was going straight from the airport to the studio for her fitting. It was the first time she was going to see the dress she would be wearing on Saturday night. She might be a complete dance beginner but she’d watched enough of the British version of Stepping Out to know that the outfits for Latin American dances were usually short, sexy and very sparkly.
When she arrived at the studio, there was a camera crew waiting for her. They looked a bit bored but Cate could hardly blame them; she certainly wasn’t the most exciting contestant on this year’s show. They were probably wishing that they’d been assigned to film Vladimir and Poppy; at least they were more likely to get some juicy footage from them.
“It’s bloody boiling out here,” the camera man grumbled as Cate walked past. It was comforting to hear another British accent. “This thing weighs a ton.”
One of the production staff met her at the door and handed her a bottle of chilled water.
Cate looked back through the glass doors. The hallway was air-conditioned but outside the intense L.A. sun was shimmering on the concrete parking lot.
“I’ll just be a minute,” Cate hurried back outside and handed the camera man the bottle of water. He needed it much more than she did. He looked surprised but before he could say anything, she’d turned around and sprinted back inside. This was the first (and probably only time) she was going to be on a TV set and she definitely didn’t want to be known as the diva who kept everybody waiting.
“Welcome to the jungle,” Declan laughed, waving a swatch of leopard-print fabric at Cate as she walked into Wardrobe. “Behave,” the seamstress kneeling by his ankles warned him good-naturedly. Declan was wearing black trousers, a red short-sleeved shirt and a black skinny tie.
“Hi,” a lilac-haired pixie smiled at Cate as she left Declan and ventured into the women’s side of Wardrobe. “You must be Cate, I’m Hope.” She was wearing a black and white-striped t-shirt, black leggings, army boots and a pink tu
tu.
While Hope found her dress, Cate looked around the cramped space. There were floor-to-ceiling racks tightly packed with brightly-coloured, sparkly outfits. Even the industrial grey flooring was covered in excess glitter.
“Here we go,” Hope pushed her black-framed glasses up her nose.
Cate looked at the dress and her stomach plummeted to the glittery floor. It was very short.
“That’s what I’m going to be wearing?”
“I know,” Hope nodded, “it’s going to look amazing. Let’s try it on.”
Cate looked around, hoping to find somewhere private where she could get changed. Hope must have caught her looking because she put a hand on Cate’s arm, “don’t worry, nobody else is allowed in here when we’re doing a fitting.”
Mortified, Cate took off her t-shirt. The cool air-conditioning gave her goose bumps. She couldn’t believe she was about to strip down to her underwear in front of a complete stranger. She unbuttoned the front of her jeans and prayed that she was wearing matching panties. She’d slept through her alarm this morning and had to get dressed in a hurry. She hadn’t actually thought that anybody was going to see her bra and pants today.
When she had the dress on, it seemed even shorter. “Are you sure it isn’t too short?” Cate asked, trying to tug the hem down to a more respectable level. “I’ve had three children.”
Hope gave her a high-five, “nobody would be able to tell, Cate. You’ve got an awesome figure.”
The dress was white and embellished with silver crystals, the skirt finished mid-thigh but had slits at each side almost up to her panty line so she could move her hips freely. It had built in panties to protect her modesty so tomorrow she would have to be sewn into it. “You need a white thong to go underneath, anything else will show.”
Cate tried to remember if she’d packed any white thongs? Ugh, she realised with a sinking feeling that she was going to have to add another couple of chores to her already packed schedule. If she was going to have to wear a thong, she was also going to have to get waxed. She’d only gone completely bare once before. Kian liked her to have a strip of hair down there; the contrast between the inky-black hair and her pale skin always turned him on.