Move Over Darling by Christine Stovell

now’ look. But he was just beginning to enjoy himself.
    ‘If anyone asks you to dance, you’re taken.’ He laughed. ‘I’m coming back the minute I’ve bought my raffle tickets.’
    ‘Think of the danger,’ she reminded him, when he returned. ‘I have no co-ordination and your feet will be sorry. You’d be a lot safer dancing with someone who knows the steps. Ffion’s looking for a partner.’ She pointed to a young woman, with hair bleached and straightened to within an inch of its life, standing awkwardly by the bar.
    ‘Maybe,’ he said, stepping close enough to catch the floral scent of Coralie’s distinctive perfume. ‘But I remember her when she used to follow me along the beach with a nappy full of wet sand hanging round her knees and now she’s heading this way!’
    ‘I think she’s outgrown the nappy,’ said Coralie still hell-bent on getting away from him.
    Was he losing his touch? He took both of her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Yes, but has she forgiven me for dating her sister? You’re the only one who can help me, Coralie, everyone else’s memories are way too long and I don’t know who’s going to accuse me of what next!’
    She sucked in her bottom lip as if trying to frame a tactful refusal, so he could have cheered when the caller shouted out for everyone to take their partner for the next dance. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,’ he said close to her ear, grinning as she threw him a suspicious look. ‘And, no, I don’t say that to all the girls.’ Well, only the pretty ones.
    Maybe she’d been a bit quick to congratulate herself for staying out of trouble, thought Coralie. For all his cheeky comments, Adam hadn’t been so hard to handle. After a couple of dances which revealed them to be entirely out of step with each other, she’d excused herself in order to collect her contribution to the raffle prizes and watched him head towards an over-excited cluster of teenage girls like a little boy in a sweet shop. Gethin Lewis, as her body urgently reminded her, seeing the challenge in his animated blue eyes, was all man.
    Having trodden all over Adam’s toes, she also found herself a bit reluctant to let Gethin partner her for another reason. The woman in a backless wisp of a red dress, all long legs and flicky dark hair dancing towards her partner in his most famous painting, was depicted with the passion and tenderness of a lover’s eye. What might he read into her own limited dancing skills measured against that?
    She looked around for someone else to take her place, but Kitty, in a breathtaking about-turn, had withdrawn her claws and agreed to partner Adam. Willow, looking like a cut-price Florence Welch in a purple tie-dye maxi dress that clashed with her hair, was swaying provocatively in front of an embarrassed-looking Rhys and Alys had finally persuaded Huw to take to the floor.
    ‘Farmers’ Fancy – Ffansi Fermwyr! ’ instructed the caller and, before she could do anything about it, they were off.
    Gethin took her hand and placed the other round her waist, his fingers warm and firm through the thin fabric of her dress. Bad idea, she thought, as her skin tingled and every atom in her body whispered, ‘Yes!’
    ‘You owe me this one!’ he told her in his low, lilting voice, bending close to make himself heard over the music before spinning her away.
    ‘Oh?’ Concentrate, she instructed her legs, as she raised her head and met his eyes.
    ‘That authentic Welsh landscape,’ his palm scorched against hers, ‘you asked me to donate for the good of the village?’
    ‘Yes?’ Just one dance, her brain was ordering, despite every cell in her being getting interested and calling out for more.
    ‘It’s over there on the prize table,’ he murmured as he circled round her. ‘You might win it, if your number comes up.’
    They turned to face one another before linking hands again.
    ‘So,’ he said, watching her face closely. ‘Do you feel