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Chapter One
Scarlett Matthews studied her figure in the long floor to ceiling mirrors in the dance studio. Six months after her final performance with the Queensland Ballet and her turnout was still as good as it ever had been, but she could see the extra padding on her hips and thighs that she hadn’t had before. A lot had changed since moving to the country town of Maleny. Not just her figure, but her entire lifestyle. She was teaching ballet now instead of performing it herself on a stage to thousands.
She stood in the middle of the studio, wearing her usual uniform of a black leotard, tights and ballet shoes. These items were like a second skin to a dancer. She loosened her shoulders, rounded her arms into first position, and turned her feet out to match. Her classes finished for the day and the studio quiet after the last of the teenagers had left, Scarlett danced a brief arabesque and spun on her demi-pointes. Her ballet shoes sliding over the dance floor to an imaginary tune.
Damn, she missed it—the glitter of stage lights reflecting off sequins, the thunder of the audience’s applause, the thrill of mastering a new part. There was nothing else in her heart except ballet, nothing else she was passionate about. It was ballet or bust. Sometimes she feared that her soul might wither up and die if she went much longer without dancing. That’s why she had taken up the role of ballet teacher at her friend Audrey’s Hinterland Dance Academy. Now, instead of learning and dancing choreography, she was teaching it to young students who likely would never progress to a professional level.
Approaching the barre, she lifted her leg, resting her ankle on it and leaning out and over to stretch in a perfect line. Her muscles released as she stretched further. She wasn’t yet ready to give up the flexibility and grace that she had spent her lifetime working on. Years of stretching had given her a perfect curve en pointe.
“The others are waiting for us,” Lilly called from the door of the studio.
Scarlett looked at the clock on the wall. The staff Christmas Party would already be in full swing up the road at the Bunya Bar, and she and Lilly had promised to join after finishing their classes and closing for the night.
“I’ll just get changed. I’ll be five minutes.” Scarlett smiled at her friend before switching position to stretch her other leg.
After changing out of her leotard and tights and into black pants and her favourite pink t-shirt, Scarlett joined her colleague.
“You’re not going to take down your hair?” Lilly asked.
Scarlett raised her hand and touched the neat bun. The hairspray and gel having kept it neatly in place during all the day’s lessons. “I always wear my hair up. It feels weird to let it down.”
She looked at Lilly’s jet black hair, cut in a cute modern bob. Lilly taught tap and although she was an amazing dancer of that style, she hadn’t had the discipline of ballet where not a hair could be out of place, nor even the slightest run in a stocking.
“You should try it some time. It’d look cute.” Lilly locked the studio door behind them as they headed out into the humid December night.
The walk to the Bunya Bar was a short one, and the women chatted about their day as they made their way through town. Around them, all the shops and cafes were closed, with only the occasional street lamp illuminating the footpath.
The bar soon came into view. Light and noise flooding from the windows. Scarlett smoothed down the front of her shirt and pasted on her brightest smile. Show time!
The historic building was decorated like most country pubs, with a timber floor and half-panelled timber walls. A series of tables were arranged to the left of the entrance, their wooden tops marked with drink rings and coasters. Several groups of men and women occupied the seats, and Scarlett glanced around but didn’t see their party.
“They’re in the beer garden.” Lily said and waved her on, past a door leading to the pokie-machine room. Past the bar to the right, on a plain carpeted area, stood a pool table lit by a long, low-slung light. Television screens showing racing odds sat high above a corkboard with racing fields tacked to it and a counter containing rows of betting slips. Several older men with long grey beards looked them up and down with appreciative stares as they passed, and Scarlett couldn’t help the shiver that their ogling caused.
Of course, she was used to being watched and studied on stage. She was a performer and that was her job. But away from the bright lights and makeup, she preferred not to be the centre of attention. Being a ballerina came with too many expectations and fantasies, and she was always afraid to disappoint.
That’s why she had always preferred the company of fellow dancers. They had more things in common and knew the demands of her work.
Spotting Audrey at a table outside with the rest of the staff and partners, Scarlett and Lily walked over and joined them. Contemporary and Jazz teacher Beth was there with her husband, Johno; Mariah was in her early twenties and taught hip-hop; and Audrey, also a ballet teacher, was sitting next to her fiance, Wes.
“We should place our orders soon. There’s already a big wait.” Audrey handed her a menu and Scarlett looked it over. “In the meantime, I ordered some garlic bread.”
Carb heavy meals of pasta and meat and rice dishes glared back at her. Skipping over the mains, she searched for a healthy option. Relieved when she found a simple house salad.
A waitress squeezed past Scarlett and placed a wicker basket on the table in front of her. “Here’s some garlic bread while you’re deciding.”
The buttery smell teased Scarlett’s nose. She knew it was crazy, freaking out over one tiny slice of bread, but she couldn’t help it. She’d spent years counting every precious morsel she allowed between her lips, calculating calories and fat units, knowing that the slightest slip-up would edge her further and further away from her goal weight. Not to mention principle in the next performance.
A prickle of rebellion clawed through her. How long had it been since she’d tasted bread? Or chocolate or ice cream.
Damn. Ice cream.
Her mouth salivated at the thought. Real ice cream, not that fat-free, taste-free frozen yogurt she sometimes kept in the freezer at home for a treat.
Years. It had to be years.
Beside her, Wes offered her the basket. “Grab a piece before they’re gone.”
Scarlett moved her hands below her bottom, sitting on them in order to stop herself from claiming a piece of the golden, yeasty goodness. “No thanks.” She shook her head.
The friends shared lively conversation and Scarlett’s body started to relax against the chair as she sipped her soda water and laughed at the stories being shared.
The tantalising aroma of barbecued steak teased her as it was placed in front of Wes. He eagerly reached for his knife and fork before cutting into it. Scarlett couldn’t turn away from the meal as the juices flowed from the dissected meat.
Swallowing hard, she refocused her attention on the greens in front of her. Picking her way through the lettuce, she tried to imagine just what steak tasted like. It had been so long; she couldn’t even remember.
“Linc! Over here.” Wes paused his chewing to wave someone over.
The man turned, and Scarlett gazed appreciatively at the tall, ginger-haired man. He moved with long strides towards their table. His broad shoulders and narrow hips had all the girls looking up in silent approval, but it was his eyes that held Scarlett transfixed. Their light green was a shade she’d never seen before.
“Oh my gosh, he looks a bit like Prince Harry.” Lilly whispered beside her. Scarlett did the mental comparison, and yes, her friend was right. He looked like the British royal, with his freckles and pink cheeks. She’d never seen such gingery-red hair up close. It suited him, of course, but she wondered if he had endured a childhood of teasing and bullying simply because he was born that way.
Wes stood and shook the man’s hand before turning to the group for introductions. “This is Lincoln Buchanan, owner of Sunshine Brew. Maleny’s best craft beer.” He introduced everyone, finishing with Scarlett, who smiled shyly.
Did his gaze linger just a little longer than socially appropriate?
“I saw that article in the Hinterland times,” Mariah said. “You’re getting ready to open your first bar soon.”
Pride glimmered in Linc’s eyes as he answered, “Yes, I’m hoping to open for New Year’s Eve. So far, we’re on schedule.”
“I’ll make sure to come by and check it out.” Lily said with a flirty smile. Did she actually flutter her eyelashes at him?
“Are you all dance teachers?” Linc asked with a smile that could melt the panties right off a woman.
Around her, the women nodded, most just as speechless as Scarlett.
“Scarlett here is our newest recruit.” Audrey smiled at her. “She helps me with the ballet classes. In fact, your niece Aimee is in her class.”
“Is that right?” Linc’s gaze again lingered on her. “Is she as much of a handful in class as she is at home?”
Scarlett swallowed hard, forcing herself to think about the sweet little eight-year-old girl from her Grade One class. “Aimee is a lovely girl. She pays attention and picks up the steps very quickly.”
She was aware of Audrey’s gaze skimming between the two, and the cocked eyebrows of their friends as they watched the interaction unfold.
“You’ll be able to see for yourself at the Christmas Concert,” Audrey said. “You are coming, aren’t you?”
Linc’s gaze finally left Scarlett’s and turned to Audrey. “Christmas Concert? Oh yeah, right, of course I’ll be there.”
“Excellent.” Audrey said as she turned back to Scarlett, and Linc was pulled into conversation with Wes. “Be careful with that one.” She whispered for her ears only.
“What do you mean?” Scarlett tried hard not to gaze too longingly at the man. He really was very sexy in those jeans.
“I adore Linc, but he could charm the skin off a snake. And he knows how good looking he is. He’s every woman’s type.”
Lily leaned in beside them and said in a hushed voice, “he’s definitely mine.”
Scarlett shook her head and tossed the comment away. “I’m not looking to get involved with anyone. My life is busy enough as it is.”
The girls exchanged a look and a murmur. Scarlett picked up her drink and sipped it, her eyes taking another peek of Linc over the rim of her glass.
“It was lovely meeting you all.” Linc said, raising his hand in a brief wave. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
They farewelled him in return before he turned and walked back to the bar, rejoining another group of men.
If she hadn’t still been staring after him, Scarlett would have missed the way he positioned himself so she was still in his eyeline. Occasionally, throughout the evening, she would look up and their eyes would meet or he would send her a smile that could only be called seductive.
But a man like Linc was not on the agenda. She was sworn off men for good. It would be a spinster’s life for her. She would not let herself be hurt again. She was still recovering from her last heartbreak and could not risk another.
As nice as it was to be receiving some male attention, one thing was very clear in her mind. She would not be talking to Linc again. That was one decision she was firm on.
An absolute no-brainer.
***
Lincoln Buchanan wasn’t the sort of guy to daydream about a woman he barely knew. He was decisive and strong willed. When he saw something he wanted, he would go for it and, more often than not, he would succeed.
He knew it wasn’t luck that made him this way. It was sheer determination and confidence that made for a thriving new business with orders he was hard pressed to keep up with. It was also his charm and experience that kept a new warm female in his bed most nights.
So, what was it about the new dance teacher? Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind?
She wasn’t even his type. Curvy, carefree tourists looking for a fun night out were more his style. Certainly not a local, as new to town as she might be. Don’t shit where you eat was a rule he had tried to hold fast to. As a business owner he didn’t need the town gossips causing any trouble or speculating over a future Mrs Buchanan.
Like he would ever get married! What a joke!
Besides, Scarlett was too small and dainty for him. She was like a porcelain doll he would too easily crush in his large hands. And didn’t ballerinas have a reputation for being snobs? She certainly had appeared to look down her nose at him with those silvery grey eyes of hers.
Eyes he would like to lose himself in. Cheeks he would like to stroke and those full red lips. Oh, he wanted to know how they tasted so badly!
And that was how he came to find himself strolling up to The Hinterland Dance Academy the following Tuesday afternoon.
During their weekly family lunch on Sunday, Linc had mentioned meeting Aimee’s ballet teacher. The little girl had been so excited she had launched into great depth about when her lessons were, how often she practised and even demonstrated some moves she had been learning.
Linc listened intently, storing away all the offered information about Scarlett, then casually tossing out the offer to pick her up one day if her parents were pressed for time. The space he was renting for his new bar was, conveniently, just a few doors up, and it wouldn’t be a problem at all.
His brother Brad had exchanged a brief look with his wife, Mandy, before jumping at the opportunity.
Linc checked his watch. He was a good ten minutes early and the studio waiting room was empty as he entered. Soft piano music played, and he followed the noise, hoping to hear that pretty voice again.
Luck appeared to be on his side as he spotted an internal window and peeked through to see a class in session. Eight girls in pink leotards, tights and ballet shoes skipped around in a circle before splitting into two groups and twirling on their toes.
“That’s it girls,” Scarlett’s voice rang from the front of the room and he moved to better see her.
Dressed in a black leotard, tights and pink ballet shoes, she looked every bit the professional ballerina. The simplicity of her pulled back hair showcased the high curve of her cheekbones.
Then she was moving across the floor, rising on her toes and leaping gracefully, her students following her directions and trying so hard to keep up.
“She’s amazing to watch, isn’t she?” A woman’s voice startled him and he turned away from the window to see Audrey studying him.
He cleared his throat before answering. “I don’t know much about ballet, but she seems to know what she’s doing.”
“Scarlett was one of the best at the Queensland Ballet. We’re very lucky to have her. She could have danced professionally for a few more years, instead of accepting this job.”
He glanced back through the window as the class wrapped up and the students curtsied to her.
“Can they see us?” He waved at the window.
“No, it’s one way glass. So parents can watch without being a distraction.” Audrey turned to open the classroom door and the little ballerinas streamed out, noisily chatting about their class and all they had learned.
Aimee spotted him and flung her arms around his waist. “Uncle Linc, did you watch me?”
He patted her gently on the back. “I saw a little bit. You did great.”
“Who’s bottle is this?” Scarlett appeared in the door frame, holding up a pink water bottle. Her eyes found him and she stilled. “Oh, it’s you.”
“It’s mine.” Aimee said, releasing him and skipping to Scarlett, who handed it over. “Look, my Uncle Linc is here.”
“I see that.” Scarlett smiled at the girl before turning back to him. “Hi again.”
He smiled, hoping he looked sexy, but scared it appeared goofy. Shit, he was really off his game with this one. “That seemed to be a good lesson.”
Scarlett looked at the window in front of him, her eyes widening. “You watched?”
“I got here early. I hope you don’t mind.”
Her cheeks were a healthy pink, her lips pale and plump. Even though the mascara was gone, her lashes were naturally long and dark enough to feather over the top of her cheeks. A pair of simple silver earrings studded her ears, but she wore no other jewellery that he could see. She paused briefly before answering. “No, I mean, that’s what it’s there for. I just forget sometimes. I’m so focused on the class.”
“You look really good.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. “I mean, the girls looked really good. I was impressed.”
“Thanks.” She turned back toward the door. Side on, he couldn’t help but look at her. The tights leaving nothing to the imagination. She had a curved bottom and long, muscular legs. The faintest indents of her ribs showed below two tiny bumps on her chest. An athlete’s body for sure. Not a gram of excess body fate that he could see. He bet she looked sexy as hell in one of those pancake ballerina tutus.
“I better get ready for the next class. Aimee, good job today. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come.”
Aimee looked up from the floor where she was pulling off her leather shoes. A grin split her face. “Thank you Ms Scarlett.”
Linc smiled at the teacher as she glanced briefly at him before walking back into the studio.
“How many days a week do you take these lessons?” He asked his niece.
“Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
He nodded as he watched through the window. Scarlett went to her bag and pulled out a water bottle. Her neck extended as she wrapped those luscious lips around it and drank deeply.
He’d never been with a ballet teacher before, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she could teach him a thing or two.
He wouldn’t mind being under her private tutelage, and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted her.
She was a prize that wouldn’t easily be won, but he was sure the challenge would be worth the result.