Page 77 of Paper Roses

“But that should never be a job or an onerous task, and the other person should do the same for you. You’d be a team. Not a boss and his employee. You are treated the way you allow someone to treat you,” I say steadily. “If you value yourself so low, other people will do the same. You should never value yourself low because you deserveeverything, Artie,” I finish a little too fervently for my taste. He cocks his head, looking at me, and I shift uncomfortably.

At that moment the door at the top of the stairs opens and breaks the moment. “Come on,” I say with relief. “Let’s go and learn a dance.”

He looks around with interest as we enter the reception. It’s bright, the walls painted with primary colours, and the warm scent of vanilla fills the air. Voices sound from the door leadingto the studio, and I nudge him towards it. “In there.” When he hesitates, I ask, “You okay?”

He bites his lip for a second and then says, “I just don’t want to embarrass you. I’m probably going to be terrible at this.”

Affection flares in me so powerfully it steals my breath for a second. I take his hand and pull him to one side. “No one’s going to be judging you, and there are all ranges of ability in the group, from beginners to advanced.” I clasp his square chin so I can look into his pale blue eyes. “You will never embarrass me,” I say steadily. “Never.”

He considers me for a second and then smiles. “What if I’m no good and fall over my feet?”

I shrug. “I’ll just pick you up and we’ll laugh.”

His smile widens. “That sounds like a euphemism for life.”

“God, I hope not. That would mean I’m becoming tediously wise.”

I tug him into the studio. It’s brightly lit, the lights chasing away the autumn darkness at the windows, and the wooden floor is honey gold. Several couples are already here, and I feel Artie relax as he looks around. There are all ages and different relationships represented, and the atmosphere is inclusive and fun with excited chatter.

“How long did you take classes?” Artie asks.

I guide him round a group of people, my hand at the small of his back. My hand had been in the exact same place last night when I’d held him down in bed. Artie is beautiful when he’s naked and his back has an arch to it that makes my mouth water.

His eyebrow cocks as he watches me, like he’s reading my mind.

I roll my eyes, and he chuckles. “I did some lessons for the wedding and then came back a few times afterwards.”

“With Mick?”

“God, no. He liked grinding on a dancefloor. This type of dancing was completely out of his comfort zone. He said I was an eighty-year-old stuck in a hot, thirty-something body.” The comment had stung at the time, but now it just makes me want to laugh, particularly when I recall his face when I’d suggested the lessons.

“Jed.” The instructor comes over. He’s in his thirties, and he’s slim and dark-haired. “Well, hello, tall, dark, and handsome stranger.”

I grin at him and shake the hand he holds out. “Hello, Bernie.”

“I haven’t seen you in ages, gorgeous.”

“I’ve been busy.” I draw Artie forward. “This is my husband, Artie.”

Artie directs a sparkling glance at me, and Bernie leans forward to give him a hug. He steps back and winks at me. “Busy? I get you, darling. Well, lucky old you, that’s all I have to say.”

“You lie. That isneverall you have to say.” I grin at Artie. “Bernie has a word for every occasion.”

Artie chuckles, and Bernie puts a dramatic hand to his chest. “Just the one? You wound me.” He pats my arm affectionately. “I thought we’d lost our spare. Men went into mourning and beat their chests in despair.”

I shake my head. “I’m very sure they coped.”

“You could have heard the wailing from Japan.”

“Spare?” Artie asks.

“Oh, not in the Prince Harry sense, darling,” Bernie declares. “Jed danced with anyone.”

“That makes me sound like a ho.”

“I speak as I find, you naughty boy.” He turns to Artie who’s observing us with laughing eyes. “He danced with anyone who was lacking a partner.”

“I’m pretty sure he did that in private too.”

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