Wild About Harry (Hearts of the Outback Book 5) by Susanne Bellamy

Author:Susanne Bellamy [Bellamy, Susanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-07-30T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“No, Bri, it’s not one, two, three and one, two, three like that scene in The Kind and I. It’s just one, two, three on a continuous loop.”

“Gah. It’s so simple, what’s wrong with me?” Two left feet and no sense of rhythm wouldn’t stop her dancing with Harry. Not now she’d discovered just how crazy fun it was, no matter how hopeless her moves. “Are you sure you want to practise with me? You seem to know this waltzing gig just fine without my input.”

“I’d look pretty stupid dancing by myself.”

Bri rolled her shoulders, shook out her hands and stepped up in front of Harry. She placed one hand on his shoulder and gripped his hand with the other. “This time I’ll get it right.”

He nodded. “You will get it. Let’s try again, only this time, don’t look at your feet. Ready?” She nodded and tipped her head up to meet his gaze, and wondered if it had been smart to agree to dance with him.

“Are you waiting for me to count us in?”

“No, just waiting for you to—get used to looking up instead of down.” He picked up the beat, counted them in, and kept counting, emphasising the first beat and partnering her in two, breathless, faultless circuits around the sofa. The music ended and a spurt of pride—and pleasure filled her. Bri collapsed on the sofa with a pretend groan. “We did it.”

Harry picked up the remote, paused the player, and then sat at the other end of the sofa. “Well done. You’ve mastered the waltz.”

“I haven’t mastered anything. That was all down to you, but hey, I never knew how much fun these old time dances could be. Where did you learn to dance?”

Gramps occasionally reflected on the old days, and Saturday night dances had featured prominently in his memories. He’d met and danced the night away with Nana the first time he saw her and kept right on dancing through fifty-one years of marriage until his health left him breathless just walking to the letter box. Hanging up his polished black leather shoes had been one of the hardest things about his illness. “Did you go to Saturday night dances?”

“My mother is a dance teacher. There was never an option not to join in her junior dance classes. At least—” The side of his mouth tipped up in a half smile as his gaze settled on a family photo in the shelving unit. Bri examined the photo more closely. Father, mother, and a young version of Harry with a little sister smiled from the frame, all dressed in what Bri only now recognised were probably competition outfits. “If I wanted to play rugby, junior dance classes were the price. My parents believed in a well-rounded education and dance balanced out the sport and filled the cultural element. Along with a bit of guitar.”

“You mean you were blackmailed into it?”

“Only at first. The funny thing is, dance lessons helped my school footy career. I was

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