Mr. (Not Quite) Perfect by Jessica Hart

if they had slotted into place. Max was just the right height. Allegra fitted comfortably against him, her eyes level with his jaw, and if she turned her head, she could rest her face into his throat.
    He had discarded his jacket but was still wearing a shirt and tie. The shirt was a very dull pale blue and the tie totally uninteresting, but Allegra had to admit that he smelt nice, of clean cotton and clean male. It was surprisingly reassuring being able to lean into his solid strength and feel that he wouldn’t shift or topple over.
    It had been another frenetic day at Glitz and Allegra had spent most of it galloping up and down the corridors and being screamed at. They were putting the next issue to bed and tension was running higher than usual, which made it stratospheric. It was as if the whole office was suffering from PMT.
    But now she was being forced to rest against Max for a minute or two. In spite of herself, Allegra let out a little sigh and relaxed. It was weird, but being held by him like this felt...safe.
    ‘Good,’ said Cathy. ‘Now squeeze each other tighter.’
    Obediently, Allegra tightened her arms around Max’s back as he pulled her closer, and suddenly it didn’t feel safe at all.
    Suddenly it felt dangerous, as if the floor had dropped away beneath her feet and left her teetering on the edge of a dizzying drop. The urge to turn into Max and cling to him was so strong that Allegra couldn’t breathe with it. Her chest was tight, her pulse booming with an alarmed awareness of him. He held her rigidly and his body was hard—and when Allegra shifted uneasily against him she realised that— oh? —it wasn’t just his chest that was hard.
    Oh.
    Before she had a chance to work out what she felt about that, Cathy was clapping her hands.
    ‘Right, let’s try again,’ she said briskly and Max practically shoved Allegra away from him. His body might have been enjoying being pressed up against her, but his mind obviously hadn’t. He scowled as Cathy ordered them back into position.
    ‘Remember what I told you about the box step?’ she said as Max and Allegra took hold of each other awkwardly, careful to keep a gap between them. ‘Step to the top of the box, slide your feet together, step back, slide together... Off you go!’
    It was easier without the distraction of being pressed right against him, Allegra told herself. That flood of heat had just been a physical reaction, exactly as Max’s had been. It was what happened when you squashed a man and a woman together. It didn’t mean anything.
    ‘No, no!’ Cathy threw up her hands. ‘Max, you go forward , Allegra you’re stepping back ! Now, try again, and this time try and concentrate on what you’re doing.’
    Right, concentrate. Allegra stifled a nervous giggle as she fluffed it again, and Max muttered under his breath.
    Cathy sighed.
    They set off again, and managed two sides of the box before Max trod heavily on Allegra’s foot, making her yelp, at which point they both started laughing. It was partly embarrassment, partly relief that the awful awareness had dissipated.
    Cathy was less amused. ‘You’re both hopeless,’ she said when their time was up. ‘If you want Max to impress Darcy at the ball, you’re going to have to practice. At least master the basic steps and we can try and add some turns next week.’

FIVE
    ‘Turns?’ Max grumbled as they slunk out. ‘You mean we have to go round and round as well as backwards and forwards?’
    ‘It’s a lot harder than it looks,’ Allegra agreed, winding her scarf around her throat. ‘I’ve waltzed so often in my fantasies that I thought I’d be quite good at it. I can’t believe I was so crap,’ she said despondently.
    ‘In your fantasy you don’t dance with me, that’s why,’ said Max, feeling obscurely guilty about spoiling the waltz for her.
    ‘True.’ She perked up a little as they headed down the street. ‘I’d be much better with my Regency duke.’
    ‘Your