Chapter Seventeen
Clara
Clara settled into her seat at the round, white-draped table and put down her flute of prosecco.
The soft hum of conversation filled the air in the rather grand room, from the red carpet up to the corniced ceiling, where large confetti filled balloons floated above them.
The floral centrepiece in front of her was so extravagant she had to lean sideways to see the couple across from her.
‘So, how do you know the bride and groom?’ Clara asked, her glass resting lightly against her fingertips as she turned to the woman on her left, a stylish older lady wearing emerald green.
‘I’m Astrid’s aunt,’ the woman replied with a warm smile. ‘And you?’
‘Oh, I’m here with Sam.’ Clara nodded towards him. ‘He’s one of Dominic’s oldest friends; they were at school together.’
‘Oh, you’re Sam.’ The aunt looked past Clara to smile at him. ‘Dominic was talking about you earlier.’
‘Was he?’ Sam pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure I want to know what he was saying. He has a talent for exaggeration.’
The aunt chuckled. ‘Not at all. He said you’d found the loveliest girlfriend, and he was very happy for you. That must be you.’ She smiled at Clara, who was suddenly lost for words.
‘I’m very lucky,’ Sam said. ‘To have Clara.’
She took a sip of her drink and caught his eye. His cute little grin tugged at his lips, pressing dimples into his bearded cheeks.
‘You’re very sweet,’ she whispered when the aunt’s attention turned elsewhere.
‘Just being honest. I am lucky to have you here. It’s made everything so much better.’
‘I think we’re about to get speeches.’ The aunt’s voice cut into their conversation, and they looked towards the top table. ‘I hope they don’t go on too long. They can be such a drag.’
Clara sat up to listen as the MC called for order and introduced Dominic. The chatter faded into polite silence. Dominic stood, champagne in hand, looking around and smiling.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began, clearing his throat. ‘Thank you all for being here today to celebrate with us. It means the world to my wife and me.’
Everyone clapped, and a few people sent up wolf whistles.
‘Astrid…’ A small smile tugged at the corner of Dominic’s mouth, ‘has always had a way of lighting up a room – even when she’s not trying. Like the bulb in my shady garden.’
The crowd rippled with laughter, and Sam leaned into Clara and whispered, ‘Really? That’s even worse than my jokes.’
Clara gave him a little smile then glanced at Astrid, whose cheeks were somewhat flushed. She shook her head but smiled.
‘She’s not just my wife,’ Dominic was now saying. ‘She’s my best friend. The love of my life. The one person who has seen every messy, ridiculous part of me and still… somehow sticks around.’
Clara’s chest tightened, her fingers instinctively curling around the stem of her wine glass.
As neither she nor Sam were driving, they were both able to have a drink, though neither of them were heavy drinkers.
After the ceremony, they’d gone back to the cottage, dropped off the car, and walked down the track to the gorgeous Mayscombe Hall – no mean feat in her heels.
And she was deliberately avoiding thoughts about doing it again later in the dark.
She stole another look at Sam. He was focused ahead, and his side profile was striking, very dashing…
and rather sexy. Without even trying, he somehow managed to pull off smouldering alongside sweet.
And that gave him double the appeal because who wouldn’t like a guy who looked that hot but was also one of the most charming and kind people on the planet?
And I am not immune.
The line between fake and real was getting very blurry in her mind.
Dominic’s gaze swept the room before landing back on Astrid, and he went on. ‘Every story I could tell about her, every moment we’ve shared, just proves what I already know – how lucky I am to be her husband.’
Dominic raised his glass, and everyone else followed. Clara clinked hers against Sam’s. He caught her eye and smiled. Returning it, she shoulder-bumped him. He didn’t look away.
She raised a brow, mouthing, ‘What?’
His smile widened, and he shrugged, as if to say, nothing, just you.
Clara’s lips twitched as she bit back a grin. But she couldn’t resist stealing another glance his way after she’d sipped her prosecco. He was still looking, still smiling, and she was suddenly grateful for the dim light because she was sure her cheeks were very pink.
The line blurred a little more.
After the meal, people took a breather in the foyer, and more drinks were served before they headed into the ballroom.
Clara took Sam’s arm, and he momentarily brushed his hand over hers as they entered the dimly lit room.
A few lasers swept around, creating sparkle patterns on the wall as they headed for a table.
Gentle music played. Clara took a chair next to Sam.
When everyone was settled new music burst on loudly and somewhat jarringly.
It reminded Clara of a game show. It built up to a crescendo, then the MC’s voice said in a clear, rather showy voice.
‘Let’s hear it for the bride and groom. Astrid and Dominic! ’
Everybody cheered as the opening notes of a beautiful song started up.
‘How smooth is he?’ Sam leaned in as he spoke, clapping with everyone else as Dominic and Astrid took to the floor like two contestants on Strictly.
‘Very.’ Clara grinned, watching their routine unfold. ‘But they’re actually pretty good.’ They looked like they’d done a lot of practising.
As the song ended to cheers and applause, and a more upbeat track began, bridesmaids took to the floor followed by other guests.
‘Would you like to dance?’ Sam held his hand out to Clara.
‘Of course.’ She smirked, placing her hand in his. ‘That’s the reason I’m here.’
‘For the dancing?’ His fingers curled around hers as he led her to the dance floor.
‘No, for you.’ She met his eyes for a moment, then nipped her lower lip between her teeth. ‘So that you don’t have to dance on your own. That’s what fake dates are for.’
‘Which I greatly appreciate.’ He spun her around, catching her off guard and making her laugh.
‘Oh, my god.’ She landed up against his hard, broad chest, and he held eye contact.
‘You should’ve asked what you were signing up for.’ His grin was infectious.
‘I’m glad I didn’t. The element of surprise is rather thrilling.’
Still smiling, he led her around the dance floor, so much more confident than he’d been at the staff night out a few weeks ago.
Maybe he felt freer here – or maybe it was the Prosecco loosening him up.
Clara didn’t really need to know; she was too busy enjoying the moment.
His arms were strong and sure around her, his movements easy.
The wedge of bare skin below his open collar drew her eyes again and again – the smooth line of his throat, the hint of warmth beneath the fabric.
She’d like to lean in and press a kiss right there, just to see how he’d react.
But would it stop there? The way she was feeling, she doubted it.
Everything about him felt like a delicious temptation waiting to be unwrapped, and the unholy thought of doing just that was completely messing with her head.
This was Sam. Her friend. Her undeniably hot friend.
It had been so long since she’d felt this kind of ease with a man.
Fergus – football-first Fergie – had liked sex on his own terms, to celebrate wins or blow off steam.
She’d always been left disappointed, unsatisfied, and a little lost, despite her best efforts.
She liked physical closeness – even when it wasn’t about the end result, it was about the warmth, the connection.
But Fergus had never cared for that. Over time, frustration had hardened into dread, and she’d convinced herself that spark was gone for good.
Coupled alongside her other issues, she’d almost resigned herself to a life of celibacy.
But now… her insides had woken up again. That forgotten buzz was back – the slow, intoxicating hum of anticipation, the ache of wanting to be close to someone. And Sam wouldn’t disappoint her – she was sure of it. Whatever they did, he’d be gentle, thoughtful… kind.
‘Where did these dance skills emerge from?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘Skills? This isn’t skill. I’m just spinning you around a bit. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.’
Clara shook her head, but her smile refused to budge. ‘Well, it feels skilful to me. I’d like to know what other skills you’re hiding in there.’ She pressed a finger into his chest.
‘None.’ He let out a little laugh. ‘Just the usual ones.’
‘Which are?’
‘Full knowledge of the works of William Shakespeare…’
She chuckled. ‘Can’t take the English teacher out of the classroom.’
‘Something like that.’
Song after song blended into one another, but Sam carried on twirling her and laughing.
‘I’m melting.’ She fanned her face as the song came to an end. ‘Shall we get a cold drink?’
They took a breather, waiting at the bar for a drink and then sitting down, sipping quietly. A slower, more sedate song came on. ‘Shall we dance this one?’ Clara glanced at Sam.
‘If you like.’ He put his glass down, and Clara took his hand.
As soon as they got to the floor, he slipped his arms around her and pulled her closer, one hand resting lightly on her waist, and the other cupping hers.
They swayed together gently, and Clara relaxed against him.
This was why people in times gone by loved dances so much.
They presented the perfect opportunity to get close.
And Clara was very close to Sam right now.
If Dominic happened to spot them, he wouldn’t doubt for a second that this wasn’t one hundred per cent real.