Despite his determination, the day was a blur. Dylan forced out smile after smile and cheered at each and every activity. He literally fell into bed at the end of it.
The day after that should have been better, as the passengers were due to go ashore to Norfolk Island, but the weather turned, becoming too dangerous for the tender boats to land. So instead of having a day off, Dylan found himself involved in emergency line dancing classes, as well as a host of other activities designed to placate grumpy passengers. By the time the evening show came again, he was exhausted.
“Have you run yourself ragged?” George asked.
“I think that woman hates me.”
“Who, the cruise director? Oh, I don’t think so. Michaela Western doesn’t really hate anyone. She just likes the job to get done. It’ll probably take a while to get used to. You have to learn to pace yourself. Don’t think you can go dancing until the wee small hours, then throw yourself into cheering on every activity on board and expect to be full of energy for the show, as well.”
“Sure.” High energy was Dylan’s natural state of operation, although he had to admit his usual energy requirements didn’t include rehearsals and activities and two full-throttle dance shows every night. It wasn’t mental exhaustion giving him trouble, just physical demands his body hadn’t dealt with for many years.
“You’ll get there. Set for tonight, though?” George asked, his eyes twinkling.
Dylan nodded. Tonight’s show was a Broadway tribute, far less taxing than the cabaret numbers, thank goodness.
The show opened, and the audience was as packed as the previous night, but this time Dylan’s nerves were jangling. When he got on stage, the movements didn’t come easily. He had to look at the other dancers to remember his cues, and he fumbled a few partnering moves with one of the Australian twins.
“Watch it, you almost dropped me there,” she hissed.
“Watch it yourself,” he whispered back.
By the time the final curtain came down, Dylan was fuming, angry with both his stroppy partners and himself. He’d missed three cues and almost missed the turns on two of his duets.
“Not such a superstar after all,” one of the twins said.
“Happens when your ego gets too inflated. Bursts like a balloon and goes hissing all over the stage,” the other said.
Dylan felt his expression darken. He’d always been driven to be the best he could. Boardroom or dressing room, it didn’t make any difference. “Well, perhaps if you didn’t keep me waiting for cues…”
“Don’t worry, darlings.” George stepped in between them. “The audience didn’t even notice. Off you go, girls.”
The twins stalked off, noses high.
“Sorry, I…”
George held up a hand. “You and I know you missed a cue, but hardly anyone in the audience even knows what a cue is, let alone whether you missed any of them. You have that rare gift, faking it till you make it.”
Dylan tried not to let the alarm show on his face. He knows I lied my way into that audition.
“You can swoop in and start dancing out of cue,” George continued, “but because you do it with such aplomb, everyone thinks you’ve started exactly where you should have.”
Relief washed over Dylan. He didn’t fancy the fallout if people discovered that he had next to no formal training—especially on a night when he’d let himself and the other dancers down.
“Now go to bed early, and don’t give yourself away so easily tomorrow. Those women will eat you alive if you let them.”
“I thought I might go through tomorrow’s routine a couple of times first.”
George gave him a careful look. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. You need to rest.”
“I know, and I will.” Dylan was suddenly determined. “I’ll get it soon enough. But I need it clear in my head, or I won’t sleep well.”
“I guess we can’t have you tossing and turning,” George said.
“And I just have to check in with Michaela—I mean, the cruise director—to see if I can be excused from anything tomorrow. My schedule today was almost twice everyone else’s.”
“Good luck with that,” George said over his shoulder as he left the theater. “She’s not much of one for letting people get out of anything she wants them to do.”
Dylan thought of how she’d melted under his kiss.
Neither am I.
Chapter Five
“Someone paged me?”
Michaela found Dylan rehearsing in the theater by himself, with the sweat from two shows shining on his skin and overpowering his usual soapy smell.
He stopped moving, and she heard the strains of tomorrow’s show coming from a small CD player in the corner.
“Hi,” he said. “I needed to ask you about the activity roster. But before that, I just need a partner for this part.” He took her hand and pulled her firmly into a spin.
“Excuse me?” She allowed the incredulous tone sharpen her voice.
“Seeing as you’re here…just for a second.”
His dark smile held something indefinably attractive in it, but Michaela shook her head.
“Just stand there. That’s it,” he said, ignoring her refusal.
There wasn’t an opportunity to move as he leapt around her, pulling her into spins and then releasing her to eat up the stage with his grand jeté. She gave up trying to escape and enjoyed the spectacle of his muscles tightening and releasing, his long frame a perfect swath of movement through space.
Thoughts of wrapping her own legs around that waist and running her hands over his broad, strong shoulders brought a quiver to Michaela. When the music finally stopped, she had to take a few deep breaths to stop herself from stammering her words.
He walked to his bag and took a swig of water. “Thanks. Glad you didn’t mind being used like that.”
Mind? Michaela ducked her head, hoping the blush wasn’t obvious.
“I wanted to ask you a favor,” he said with a sly look.
Michaela drew herself up, trying to cover her desire with officiousness. “You are familiar, aren’t you? You page me to come down here, which isn’t correct procedure with a superior, you drag me into your dance rehearsal and sweat all over me, and now you want a favor? You’ve got cheek, I’ll give you that.”
His face turned stony. “I thought… I didn’t know about procedure. Would you like to sit down?”