‘Ok then.’ He reeled her in, so she was tightly wound in his arm, and for a moment, he held her there tight against his chest, then he spun her out.
She giggled, and Lissa clapped as she danced beside them, completely uninhibited and carefree.
‘Was that what you meant?’ he asked.
‘Perfect.’ Clara grinned as she met his eyes, her hand still in his. The music surged, and Sam laughed along. He didn’t have a clue what he was doing, but Clara seemed happy being twirled and spun around. The very fact that it was making her so joyful made him want to stay there.
When the music stopped, everyone cheered, and Clara hugged him. Sam gently patted her back before stepping away. ‘Can I sit down now?’
The music shifted to a soft, slow tune. Lissa grinned. ‘No. You stay there with your pretend wife. I’ll see if my real husband will dance this one with me.’
Clara rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips.
‘Shall we?’ She stepped closer, slipping a hand into his and placing the other one on his shoulder. Maintaining eye contact, he glided his hand around her back. Her dress was cut very low, and the warmth of her skin was palpable as he made contact with it. Instinctively he held back, but she drew closer and smiled.
‘This is nice, isn’t it?’ She nestled against his shoulder and sighed contentedly as they swayed to the music. Sam had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. Were there steps to follow? But it didn’t seem to matter. And really this was very pleasant.
‘You know, Sam… you’re the best.’ Clara rubbed her head on him, and he inhaled her fragrance, which seemed a little darker and headier than the one she wore during the day. ‘That’s why I love you.’
He huffed out a laugh. She threw that phrase around like confetti. He patted her back gently.
‘Thanks, pretend wife,’ he murmured.
She giggled, then pulled back to look at him. ‘I actually quite like you being my pretend husband.’
He raised his brows. ‘Why?’
She tilted her head as if thinking. ‘Because it feels like… well, if I fall, you’ll be there to catch me and keep me safe.’
He watched her closely, glancing between her eyes and frowning. Did she mean that? A smile quirked the corner of his lips, and he nodded, tugging her closer, and lowering his cheek to her head.
The song wound down, and they slowed to a gentle stop. Clara pulled back and held his gaze for a moment, then she pushed up on tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. He swallowed.
‘You can sit down now.’ She winked at him. ‘Unless you want to keep dancing.’
‘I think I’ll sit. But thank you. That was actually quite fun.’
‘Aw.’ She patted his arm.
Sam slumped down beside Lissa.
‘I’ll be back. Bursting for the loo.’ Clara headed across the dancefloor. As she disappeared out the door, Lissa tapped Sam’s shoulder.
‘What’s going on with you and her, aye?’
‘Nothing.’ He nudged up his sleeve. ‘You know what she’s like. And… well, she’s… going through a rough patch.’
Lissa arched a brow. ‘Has she told you about her… troubles?’
‘It’s not my place to say.’
Lissa gave a tiny, resigned nod. ‘Ok, fair enough. But you two look very cute together.’
‘Stop trying to play matchmaker.’
‘Someone needs to.’
Clara reappeared and reclaimed her seat. ‘What’re you two whispering about?’ She leaned across Sam to eye Lissa.
