Say it with Sequins. Georgia Hill

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      “Who Dares Dances stars Harri Morgan and Julia Cooper are getting some hot love action off the dance floor. Training to perfect their passionate rumba, has spilled into their private life. ‘I could see them getting more and more intimate,’ said one source, close to the couple.”

      Feeling sick, Julia pulled another newspaper over and opened it. Pictures of her and Harri were splashed all over the second page. There was one of them practising the rumba – a still from training footage and a photograph of them hugging one another after the quarter-final result. She read the beginning of the attached article:

      “Harri, thirty one and Julia, twenty seven, have become increasingly friendly. An insider on the show said: ‘They were seen getting very cosy at an after show party. They couldn’t keep their hands off one another!’

      “The couple have also been spotted sharing intimate late night dinners designed strictly for two. Our source added, ‘It’s become obvious they have strong feelings for one another and I think it’s getting in the way of their training.’”

      “Cheek!” exclaimed Julia, “we’ve both got so much better. Casey?” she looked questioningly at Harri, “Eva?”

      He shrugged. “It could be anyone. It could even be Abi from the pizza place. Have you seen this one?” He passed her yet another tabloid.

      She took it wordlessly and then gasped at the photos of her and Harri kissing passionately while they waited for the taxi home the other night. She got distracted for a minute thinking how gorgeous he was, in his long leather coat and black jeans and then realised just what the press coverage would mean. She looked at him, dismay on her face. “Oh, I’m so sorry Harri!”

      “We haven’t exactly been discreet, have we?” He rubbed a weary hand over his face and managed a weak grin. “I suppose it was inevitable that it would come out.”

      “Have you … has anyone contacted you from Red Pepper?”

      “No, not yet. No doubt I’ll get a call tomorrow.”

      “What will they do?”

      Harri searched for her hand and found it. “I don’t know,” he frowned deeply, “they might not renew my contract, or give me the sack straight away.” He shrugged again. “Who knows?”

      “What, just for going out with me?”

      He managed a grin at her outrage. “It’s not so much that.” He took an enormous breath, realising he’d have to tell her the truth. “I have this clause in my contract, see. They made me sign it.” He searched for the right words. “I’m not supposed to form any personal relationships with anyone else on the show.” He rushed on, ignoring her stricken expression. “I suppose it’s really more of a case of being seen doing stuff like that, see.” He nodded to the photograph of them kissing in public. “They don’t usually mind me having a private life just as long as it’s not seen happening – and doesn’t get into the papers. Then they added this bit in the contract, just for this show.”

      “Oh my God,” Julia said, as the truth of what he was saying dawned. “But that’s so hypocritical!”

      “You said it, cariad.” He rose and came behind her, put his arms round her and kissed the top of her head.

      Now it had happened, just how did he feel about it? Anxious and insecure for the future, yes but he also felt strangely relieved. There would be no more stumbling along until they tired of him; He’d have to find another career now. It was peculiarly freeing.

      “You sound so calm about it all!” Julia twisted so she could see his face.

      He kissed her quickly and laughed. “I suppose I’ve had a whole two hours more to get used to the idea. And in a way it might be a good thing. It’s going to force me into action, it’s going to get me out there and find out what I really want to do.”

      Julia nuzzled his stubbled cheek and wanted to cry. He risked losing so much. For her. Just to be with her.“But Harri, you’ve risked your job to be with me. Do you, do you regret - ?”

      “What?” His voice reverberated against her skin and his breath was warm.

      “Do you regret,” Julia took a deep breath, “us?”

      Harri went very still. “Do you?”

      “No!” she said a little wildly, “of course not! But it’s not my career that’s been ruined.”

      “Bit dramatic, bach!”

      Julia giggled weakly, despite herself. “I am an actor,” she pointed out.

      “True enough.” Harri breathed in the scent of her hair and thought. He did feel calm. Would it scare her off, he wondered, if he said what he wanted to? That he had what he most wanted here, in this little kitchen, held in his arms. His career? Well, that would take care of itself; something was bound to turn up.

      “I don’t regret anything I’ve, I mean that we’ve done.” He tightened his arms round her and kissed the only part of her he could get at – her neck. “You’re the best thing,” when she began to protest, he shushed her and went on, “the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I wanted you from the very first moment I saw you at the Still Life party. And now I’ve got you I’m not letting you go.”

      Julia relaxed against him. She loved him, she knew that now. She loved his dark eyes and his wicked grin, she loved his beautiful body with its honed muscles. But most of all she loved his cheerful determination, his optimism, the steady way in which he tackled life’s problems, whether it was mastering the tricky steps to a paso doble, or simply a fan asking for his autograph at an inconvenient moment. And she was confident that he’d face this crisis in his usual way - with steady fortitude. “So, you’re not going to let me go, are you?”

      “Not a chance, you have this habit of swanning off with tall good looking blond men every time my back’s turned.”

      Julia giggled again, this time with more conviction and then frowned at a burning smell. “You’re going to have to let me go I’m afraid,” she said, with mock seriousness.

      “Why?” Harri’s voice was muffled; he was busy nibbling her ear.

      “Because our breakfast’s burning!” Julia leapt up and rescued the croissants. They’d been burned black and were beyond hope. She said as much to Harri, coughing and laughing and flapping a tea towel around the room so that the smoke alarm wouldn’t go off.

      He came up behind her and put his arms about her again. “Cariad,” he said into the nape of her neck as his hands caressed her breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ve got another sort of breakfast on my mind. Come to bed …”

       Step Eleven.

      Monday morning brought sheepish grins from the team at Who Dares Dances. Harri didn’t know for sure just who had sold them to the press but didn’t overly care; the way he and Julia had been carrying on it would’ve got into the papers somehow. The press loved Julia, they loved Who Dares Dances and they seemed to love him; they’d smelt a story and wanted more.

      He’d rung his neighbour from the car on the way to the television СКАЧАТЬ