by Lucy Kevin
“I’d really like to help,” Christian insisted. And he also desperately wanted a few moments alone with Paige.
It looked as if Emily might be about to argue further, but Christian was used to working with directors who wanted to take charge of everything and was already halfway to the kitchen to help Paige. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emily sit back down to resume her conversation with Michael.
Paige was just picking up a platter of meringues in the kitchen when he all but crashed into her. He ended up having to grab the tray, his hands clasping over hers, so that both they, and the desserts, wouldn’t go toppling over on the floor.
“Christian, what are you doing in here? You should be back in the dining room, talking to my dad, or to Grams, or—”
“Your family is great, but I’d rather find out more about what makes you tick. I meant it, you know, when I said that I wanted to understand why you love dancing so much.” Paige looked as if she didn’t quite believe he could possibly be that interested in her.
“I...” Whatever she’d been able to say fell away as their eyes met and held. Even though he knew there were nearly a dozen people in the dining room just behind him, in that moment Christian felt like they were the only two people in the world.
She licked her lips, drawing his focus down to her soft and very sweet-looking mouth before she said, “We should get this dessert out to the dining room before there’s a revolt.”
It was a distraction, and an obvious one, but Christian knew better than to try to push her too much tonight. Especially with her entire family there. Carefully moving his hands from hers, Christian opened the door to the dining room so that she could carry in the tray of luscious dessert.
But once they were seated at the table again and the desserts had been handed around, Christian realized he just couldn’t let it go. “Are you in charge of the big performances with the kids every year at the dance studio?”
“I am, although The Nutcracker is our biggest show of the year by far. Hanna,” she said as she turned to her younger sister, “why don’t you tell Christian about the performance you filmed last year?”
As Hanna regaled everyone with amusing stories about the filming of last year’s show, Christian listened attentively, even though what he really wanted was to get back to talking with Paige.
Unfortunately, the perfect opportunity never materialized. Tres was keen to know about the way the next season of Seattle General Medical was going to play out. Morgan wanted to catch up on a couple of former clients of hers who were also on his show. Even Rachel’s little girl, Charlotte, wanted to explain her idea for a movie—a really cute idea that involved more monsters and spaceships than the average summer blockbuster.
“Time to head home and go to bed now, sweetie,” Rachel said, picking her daughter up when she’d finally seemed to run out of steam.
And somehow Paige had again managed to remain in the background throughout. She was, he’d noted tonight, a master of doing that.
“Thank you so much to all of you for the very warm welcome to the island. I should probably be getting back myself. After all, I’m going to need plenty of sleep if I’m going to be ready for a good long day of dancing with Paige tomorrow. And since I managed to make a couple of wrong turns getting here on foot, I should probably plan on some extra time to get lost on the way back, too.”
“Why don’t you walk him back, Paige?” Ava suggested as she hugged Christian good night. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty to talk about, and you can make the arrangements for tomorrow.”
“Grams…” Paige began, but then she nodded and even gave him a small smile. She grabbed a coat and her purse and led the way outside.
“It’s so much quieter than Seattle,” Christian observed as they headed toward the main road. Christian could see the lights of the harbor shining in the distance and a few small pleasure craft at anchor in the bay.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, not at all. It’s just that when you’re used to living in the city, you really notice the difference when you come to a place like Walker Island.” In Seattle, there would have been plenty of people still out and about, going out to dinner, or to the theater, or to any number of other events. There were certainly tourists and islanders enjoying similar things here, but on a much smaller scale—and with the stars almost impossibly big and bright as they twinkled from the dark sky above.
“Your hotel is this way,” Paige said, leading him down the road into the center of town.
“Once I’m at the hotel,” Christian said as a thought occurred to him, “it will mean you’ll have to walk back alone. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
Paige waved away his concern. “Walker Island is really safe.”
“Especially for you, I’d guess,” Christian said, suddenly distracted by the scent of Paige’s perfume. It was a subtle, beautifully delicate scent.
Paige looked over at him, a question in her eyes. “Why especially for me?”
“You’re a Walker, and I’m guessing that everyone here must know you. It’s a little like being famous, isn’t it?”
“I guess so.” Paige didn’t look as if she much liked that idea. “But I try not to think about it too much. Besides, being ‘famous’ here just because I am a Walker isn’t the same as if I’d done something important.”
He was silent for a minute before he asked, “Am I saying all the wrong things?”
She stopped walking to stare at him, genuinely surprised, “No. Why would you say that?”
“It’s just that when I ask you anything personal, like why you still dance, you change the subject. And now you seem to be doing it again after I asked you about living here. I hope you’ll believe me when I say that I’m not just some actor trying to figure out the motivation for his part.”
Paige didn’t say anything for a few moments, and he got the sense that she was trying to make up her mind about whether to believe him or not. Finally, she reached into her small purse and took out a photograph of a woman dancing. At first he thought it was Paige in the middle of a pirouette. But after staring at it for a little while longer, he realized the picture had obviously been taken many years ago. The resemblance between Paige and the dancer in the photograph was so strong that it was no wonder he was momentarily confused.
“Is this your mom?”
Paige nodded. “She died a long time ago.”
“I’m so sorry, Paige.” He hadn’t wanted to make her unhappy by bringing up painful memories. But before he could tell her that, she continued speaking.
“Mom loved to dance. Grams taught us in the studio, but I also learned to dance from my mom. At home. In the backyard. All the time, really. She was so beautiful when she danced. This is how I always remember her, and it always felt like we were closest when we were going through routines or she was helping me work out some steps I couldn’t quite get. She’d be so happy when it all came together. We both would.” Paige was silent for a moment before adding, “She used to dance with my father, too. I don’t think I’ve seen him dance since she died.”
Christian was used to watching people and trying to figure out what made them tick. It was what all actors did. But with Paige, he wasn’t watching from a distance. Rather, he swore he could not only feel her pain within himself, but all the joy from her mother’s love, as well. It was easy to see just how much Paige’s mother had meant to her.
And just how private a moment she was sharing with him.
“You dance because of your mom, don’t you?”
“She had so much strength, so much grace. And when I’m dancing in the middle of the music, it feels as if I can touch that.” She gazed down at the photo with such emotion that he nearly gave in to reaching out to put his arms around her, just the way he’d wanted to earlier in the evening. “It’s as if I’m dancing with her again.”
As if she suddenly felt she’d said too much, she shook her head as if to clear it and put the photo back in her purse an
d began walking again. “Your hotel’s just down this way.”
Christian followed her, but the truth was that he didn’t want this walk to end. Just the two of them, out on a beautiful island evening, was simply wonderful. One of the best nights he’d ever had, actually.
Now it was his turn to shake his head as if to clear it. It had been barely three hours since he’d first met Paige, and already he was feeling…
Well, he wasn’t yet sure that he could put a name to what he was feeling. Nor did he know why it felt so good having been welcomed so completely into the Walker family in such a short space of time.
As they approached the front steps of the hotel, he knew kissing Paige good night would be completely inappropriate. Even asking her out on a date would be too much, too soon, given the way she’d kept her distance from him most of the night.
Still, he couldn’t help but move a little closer as he said, “Thank you for showing me the way back. And for agreeing to teach me to dance when you should be spending the Christmas holiday with your family.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she responded, and he was glad to see that all traces of her earlier sadness from when they’d looked at her mother’s photo were gone now. “I’ve got a week to turn you into the closest thing to Fred Astaire there’s been since the original movie came out. I’ll see you at six tomorrow morning at the dance studio.”
“Six in the morning?” He was used to having to get to the set early, but that seemed like an awfully early time to get up and dance.
Paige smiled at him then, a hint of wickedness in her eyes, as she said, “I thought I’d take it easy on you for our first day.” Then she turned and headed back home. “See you soon.”
* * *
Christian was grinning as he walked into the hotel through the impressive front entrance. “Good evening, Mr. Greer,” the woman behind the front desk said. “You look as if you’ve had a pleasant evening.”
“As a matter of fact, I have. A nice home-cooked meal and a walk to the hotel along the waterfront was the perfect way to spend my first night on the island.”
“I hope the rest of your stay is equally pleasant. And be sure to let me know if we can do anything here at the hotel to make you more comfortable.”
As he made his way up to his room, he reflected on the past few hours. It was hard to find fault with anything tonight. Dinner was great, and the Walkers were wonderful. Family was the most important thing in the world to Christian, and the Walkers were a large family that was both close-knit and welcoming, willing to accept a total stranger into their ranks for the evening.
Closing his hotel room door behind him, he tried his best to pin down the feelings he’d had as he and Paige had walked together in the moonlight. Happiness. Warmth. A longing to spend all night beneath the moonlight getting to know everything he could about Paige. And desire, too. So much that it stunned him how much he’d wanted to kiss her.
Was this what love at first sight felt like?
Christian had always assumed love at first sight happened only in the movies, and that it couldn’t happen in real life. But suddenly, he wasn’t so sure about that anymore. At the very least, he planned to do everything he could to get to know Paige Walker better.
But first, he pulled out his cell phone and set his alarm…for five in the morning.
CHAPTER FIVE
Paige arrived at the dance studio at a quarter to six the next morning, quickly checking her email and forwarding several business matters to Grams. Paige managed a lot of the business of running the studio, but it was still her grandmother’s school, and Ava liked to be involved in the important decisions. Paige took a moment to make sure that there were plenty of snacks in the office in case Christian got hungry before lunch.
She took a moment to stand in the middle of the studio, mirrors on every side reflecting her back to herself from every angle. It was amazing how empty a dance studio could feel with no one here. There was a small stand on one side to hold the stereo, a few mats rolled up in one corner, and a barre along one wall. Other than that, it was just a big rectangular box. One that they would fill up with work, sweat, and dance...and that would soon contain nothing but her and Christian Greer, reflected in those mirrored walls.
At five minutes to six, the buzzer for the front door sounded. Paige was impressed with how prompt he was. She didn’t imagine most big stars would willingly get up so early on a dark cold winter morning. And when she went to unlock the door, she couldn’t believe just how good-looking he managed to be at this time of the day. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but there he was, standing in workout clothes, holding a small sports bag, looking amazing.
“Good morning, Christian.” As Paige opened the door for him, she had to ask, “How do you manage to look so eager first thing in the morning?”
“I’m used to it. Movies start shooting at all kinds of hours, especially when the director decides he wants the sun rising in the background of the shot.” Christian smiled at her then, and she swore the heat in the studio went up ten degrees. “Plus, I’m looking forward to working with a great teacher.”
This morning Paige had made more of an effort with her appearance than she usually did, telling herself all the while that it was because she wanted to make sure Christian knew she was taking their lesson seriously...not because she wanted him to notice her as a woman. But despite her dark leotard, tights, and a short gauzy wrap skirt, there was only so much you could do wearing dance clothes. And when she found herself uncomfortably aware of the way the leotard clung to her curves, she silently reminded herself that Christian wasn’t there to look at her, he was there for dance lessons.
Thankfully, he was enthusiastic about learning to dance. Still, she was more than a little worried, given that Fred Astaire and his legacy were still very important in the world of dance. The idea of doing a remake of Shall We Dance was tough enough. But the thought of the film, and Christian’s role in it, being unsuccessful because she hadn’t been able to get him up to the required standards had already made her lose sleep.
As if he could read her mind, he said, “Before we begin, I want you to know I understand that Fred Astaire is the father of dance on TV and in the movies. I know how much he did for the craft and all about his career in stage musicals before he came to film. He is an icon, and I promise you, Paige, I want to do him justice.”
“I do, too.”
As they stood alone with each other in the studio, the island still dark and sleepy outside, she felt a connection to him that stunned her now even more than it had last night.
Work, she reminded herself. They were here to work on his dance skills, not for her to moon over him like every other woman on the planet.
Forcing herself to focus, Paige started the lesson with some warm-ups. Nothing difficult. Just simple, fundamental movements. They got about ten minutes into the lesson when Christian’s phone went off. To his credit, he ignored it, and Paige did, too.
She continued to focus on teaching him the basic movements. If she could get him to the stage where he could do these correctly, then the movie’s choreographer would have a much easier time getting him to do the exacting choreography—especially since he would be paired with a pro like Liana Haves.
That was what she told herself, anyway. Yet it was hard to ignore the fact that these drills didn’t involve touching. Because, after the way she’d reacted to Christian time and time again—with both butterflies taking flight and fireworks going off inside her every time he so much as stared into her eyes—she wanted to keep the touching part to a minimum. She knew she would eventually have to show him a dance hold, but not yet. Rather than behave like Ginger Rogers, she was just going to have to be more like Hermes Pan, the choreographer who’d stood at the sidelines shouting instructions.
As the lesson progressed, Christian’s phone rang a few more times, but he continued to ignore all the calls, focusing intently on Paige’s directions and trying hard to do what she asked.
/> “You’re lifting your shoulders,” she reminded him again.
He relaxed his shoulders, but the tension moved elsewhere, making even that gorgeous body of his seem subtly off-kilter. Plus, a few minutes later, his shoulders were tense again anyway.
“Let’s take a quick break,” she suggested. “There’s water over there, and you can also go find out who’s been calling you.”
While he did that, she went into the storage area at the back of the studio to grab her all-purpose cure-all to help correct shoulders that were out of alignment—the mop they used to clean the floors. By the time she came back, he had put both his phone and the water bottle down.
“This should help you to remember what the right posture feels like,” Paige explained as she put it across his shoulders and showed him how she wanted him to hold on to it. “Now, again, from the beginning.”
When he started over, she was both relieved and impressed to find that he could remember dance steps as easily as he could learn his lines. Now, they just had to work on polishing them. Unfortunately, once he put down the mop, after a few minutes his shoulders started to go their own sweet way once more. Even when she reminded him, his correct posture lasted only until the distraction of another missed phone call.
Wondering why he wouldn’t just turn it off, she pressed on, switching up the exercises, working on the details for hours. Hours filled with mistakes and a huge amount of effort on both their parts, along with continual interruptions from his phone in the corner. Still, though he was having trouble nailing precisely what she was asking him to do, he didn’t whine, nor did he complain when she asked him to repeat things over and over again. He obviously had excellent stamina and kept going until his T-shirt was plastered to the muscles of his torso in a way that was impossible for the woman inside of her to ignore.
“You need to rise from the balls of your feet,” she said, but even though he tried to follow her directions and needed to be floating over the floor with grace and elegance, he seemed to sink farther down into it with every step, rooting himself in place. It was movement more suitable for martial arts training than for dancing. Maybe, it occurred to her, that was where he’d picked up the habit. Paige could easily imagine Christian doing fight training for some movie or other. Probably looking very good while he did it, too.