From Fling To Wedding Ring. Karin Baine

who should be taking the heat for this and standing here hanging her head in shame, not her. She might have covered for her sister’s screw-ups when they were kids but, as she was professing to be a grown-up now, this was the last time.

      ‘No harm done.’ Either the paint fumes had got to him or he was genuinely a much more relaxed man outside work, because he didn’t appear fazed at all by the inconvenience.

      Mollie, on the other hand, had spent every second since clocking off having this conversation in her head, imagining being forced to make a grovelling apology while his temper exploded again like Bonfire Night fireworks. Now she was wondering if she should have worried at all and simply left things alone.

      ‘If you could give me the details of whoever my partner is, I’ll be on my way.’ A name or a number would be sufficient so she could go and collapse into a puddle of nervous exhaustion at home and let him get on with his second job here.

      ‘That’ll be me.’ He carried on cleaning his paintbrushes on the dirty rag he’d pulled from his pocket and no one would ever have guessed he’d just turned her world upside down.

      ‘You?’ She waited for him to burst out laughing and tell her he was only joking, and that actually John, the elderly porter at the clinic, was her real partner. That would have been preferable to the thought that she was expected to spend the next weeks grinding up against the hospital hunk when the mere brush of his hand at her back had her jumping as if she’d been scalded.

      ‘That’s not going to be a problem, is it?’

      Yes, it was going to be a problem! She could scarcely be in the same room as him without getting all hot and bothered and frustrated at herself for finding him attractive despite all those qualities that normally made her want to run in the opposite direction. Not only was he rumoured to be the workplace Lothario, but she’d seen him when things didn’t go his way and she had no intention of inviting another volatile man into her life. She didn’t want to be fooled like her mother and get hurt as a result.

      Although none of what had happened tonight was making any of this easier for her. She didn’t need to see a softer guy who did charity work and didn’t get upset when she changed his plans at the last minute—that wasn’t going to help her get over this nonsensical crush that made her pulse race every time their paths crossed. Neither was spending countless hours of rehearsal time pressed cheek to cheek and everything else up against him, but what choice did she have now? It was going to be pretty obvious the issue she had was a personal one if she pulled out now, and not the one he would probably assume. Retreating from the situation was just going to lead to more friction at work, since there was no way she could tell him the real reason she didn’t want to be paired with him. She was in a no-win, no-escape-from-this-attraction situation. All she could do was hope it would end once the pressure of the competition claimed her attention.

      ‘No. Of course not. I’m looking forward to dancing with you.’ The lie burned her tongue. Her scars already felt as though they were shining out from beneath the tattoos, declaring her damaged goods in comparison to the numerous beauties he’d been linked to in the past.

      She could imagine twirling around the floor, the raised skin where she’d been sewn back together mapping out the story of her life beneath his fingertips and making him recoil in disgust. It wouldn’t be the first time a man had rejected her because of the way she looked, although she’d sworn it would be the last time anyone would have the opportunity to get that close. The dent in her confidence had been partially repaired with the magic of a tattoo needle, but even that only managed to disguise the trauma her body had gone through from a distance.

      ‘Dancing? Who’s dancing?’ One of the elderly gentlemen who’d been pottering around nearby now sidled up to engage in the conversation.

      ‘We’re just talking about the competition, Grandad. This is Mollie, from work. She’s going to be my partner. Mollie, this is my grandfather, Hugh Sheridan.’ There really was no need for Ben to make the introduction as the family resemblance was obvious. Although the hair was a lustrous snowy white and the brilliant blue eyes surrounded by deep laughter lines, Mr Sheridan senior was basically an older version of his grandson.

      ‘Nice to meet you, Hugh.’ She reached out her hand to greet him but, rather than shaking it, he lifted it to his lips and dropped a kiss there instead.

      ‘Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mollie.’

      The old-fashioned flattery brought a flush to her cheeks and it was easy to see where Ben had inherited his charm from.

      ‘I taught Ben everything he knows,’ he said, with that same twinkle in his blue eyes she’d seen in his grandson’s on her arrival.

      ‘I’m sure you did.’ There was probably a Sheridan Handbook for Seducing Women tucked somewhere between the family photos, she surmised, given how easily she’d already fallen for their routine.

      ‘I was quite the mover in my day.’ As if to prove the point, he tugged Mollie towards him, put her hand on his shoulder and began to sway. With one hand gently resting at her waist, he whisked her around the floor, moving so quickly it stole her breath away. He was such a strong lead, so adept, it didn’t seem to matter she didn’t know the steps to whatever song he was humming. Ordinarily she would’ve been mortified by the display they were putting on for the others in the room, but there was something reassuring in the confidence of her partner’s steps that put her at ease. If Ben had indeed inherited his grandfather’s skills as well as his looks, they might actually be able to salvage something of this shambles.

      * * *

      ‘Put her down, Grandad.’ Although Ben was always delighted to see his grandfather having fun and being his old smooth self, he didn’t want it to be at the expense of Mollie’s comfort levels.

      He’d been afraid to question what had prompted her decision to take part again for fear of scaring her off when she was clearly already skittish about participating. After their previous run-in it was a big step for her to seek him out here, especially when she’d so vehemently denied entering the competition in the first place. He certainly didn’t need his grandad scaring her off again. Not everyone responded well to having him around.

      Hugh spun Mollie out with a final flourish that sent her off balance in her peep-toe spotty wedges and forced Ben to step in before she clattered into the nearby metal shelving.

      ‘Sorry,’ Mollie mumbled into his chest as she collided into him, her hands warming the skin beneath his T-shirt. He was lost in those eyes staring up at him, shifting from green to blue like the ever-changing tides. He’d always thought her pretty but seeing her up close like this, away from the work environment, he was free to appreciate the beauty of her quirky style. Not only did she look like one of those sexy fifties’ pin-ups, but she emitted that same look-but-don’t-touch vibe. Especially when she was pushing away from him and putting as much distance between them as possible. A detail that could prove awkward for the purposes of her visit.

      ‘You’ll have to work on your showmanship if you want high scores from the judges. They like a bit of flair.’ His grandfather was oblivious to any discomfort he’d caused as he went on to critique his unsuspecting dance partner.

      ‘I’ll remember that.’ Mollie humoured the comment with a smile and retrieved her red and black, cherry-embossed bag from the floor where it had fallen in the melee. She brushed the sawdust off it and Ben hoped it wasn’t one of those designer pieces that cost more than a small car.

      ‘Gran and Grandad were ballroom champions in their day. They were the ones who taught me to dance.’ It had been an attempt to instil some discipline and respect into their wayward grandson. Like any sullen teen, he hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but now those steps reminded him of that precious time he’d spent with people who’d loved him and genuinely wanted the best for him.

      In the beginning Ben had thought engaging him in the fundraising efforts was a good idea since they were dealing with two areas very close to his heart. After this display he was beginning to think his involvement might turn out to be more detrimental than