There was no way the lessons would lead to anything romantic. It was out of the question. Just imagine, an affair between the boss and his most lowly employee. What a joke. She was a girl from the bush and she didn’t fit into his city scene at all.
And the last thing she wanted was to join the long list of women who’d received his weekly offering of roses. Actually, Sally couldn’t help wondering, why hadn’t Logan asked one of them to teach him to dance? Was it beneath these high-flyers’ dignity? Or was it simply that Logan wanted to keep this one little inadequacy a secret from the rest of the world?
Whatever her boss’s reason for seeking her out, one thing was certain: when the dance class started, their roles would be reversed. She would be the one with the expertise. She would be the teacher and Logan Black would be the pupil.
In charge of the boss. It was a mind-twisting thought.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THURSDAY evening began with Logan’s arrival on Sally’s doorstep, which was an event in itself. He was wearing battered jeans and a faded blue T-shirt, thin from much washing, and when Sally opened her door she forgot that it was rude to stare.
He looked so different! So casual and relaxed and—gulp—even more drop-dead divine than usual.
‘Is something wrong?’ he asked.
‘No, nothing’s wrong,’ Sally squeaked. ‘Nothing at all.’
He pointed to his feet. ‘I remembered the shoes.’
Dragging her gaze reluctantly downwards, she saw that he was indeed wearing his leather lace-ups. ‘Well done.’
For most of the short journey through the dark city streets, she tried to put into practice what she’d learned at yoga classes about keeping calm and balanced. It’s all in the breathing. Keep your breaths even and steady. In, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.
Fortunately, Logan was happy to concentrate on the traffic and he didn’t try to distract her with scintillating conversation. There was no way Sally could calm down and scintillate at the same time.
They reached the underground car park beneath Blackcorp’s offices and parked in the space assigned to BMC’s Managing Director. The lighting was minimal and their footsteps echoed eerily in the empty subterranean chamber as they made their way to the lift.
Sally’s heartbeat raced and she felt wings of panic, but soon they were inside the main building and the security guy bustled up to them importantly as Logan was unlocking Blackcorp’s door.
‘Everything all right, Mr Black?’ His eyes bulged with curiosity when he saw Sally.
‘Of course, Reg. Perfectly fine.’ If Logan was embarrassed to be caught after hours, sneaking back into the office with the front desk girl, he hid the fact behind a ferocious frown. ‘Miss Finch and I are working on a special project.’
‘Oh, right then, sir. I’ll leave you to it.’
Sally was relieved to know that the guard was close by as she and Logan went through both sets of doors, then along the hall to the meeting room. They became very efficient as they pushed tables and chairs to the sides to make a space in the centre. Logan set up his portable player and switched it on and the bright notes of a Strauss waltz filled the room.
‘Will this music be OK?’ he asked.
Sally wrinkled her nose. ‘It might be a bit old-fashioned for a modern ball, but it’s the real thing!’
‘Everything’s ready, then.’ He stood to attention and took a deep breath. ‘Now, what do I have to do?’
Looking at him as he stood there, his expression so tense and serious, Sally’s nervousness evaporated. Logan Black wasn’t the rat who’d been so vile at the country dance. Right now, he was barely recognisable as her arrogant and distant boss.
He was a vulnerable man who would be mortified if his inadequacies were exposed, and yet, conscientious to a fault, he was determined to do the right thing by his sister.
He genuinely needed her help.
Smiling her warmest smile, Sally walked towards him, reached for his hands and took them lightly in hers. The tentative contact was enough to launch her into orbit, but she schooled herself to ignore the sizzle and to concentrate on helping him to waltz.
She was determined to do her absolute best.
This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
The instant Sally’s warm hands clasped his, Logan knew he was in trouble.
To start with, Sally was wearing a sleeveless yellow dress made from some kind of T-shirt material. With a low-backed top that hugged her lithe body like a leotard and a full skirt that rippled about her legs whenever she moved, the outfit was no doubt very suitable for dancing. But it totally threatened the boss-employee dynamics he’d been determined to maintain.