Chapter 4
Sam didn’t have a good response to Barbara’s knowing words, so he said nothing. A moment later, Claudia emerged from behind the screen, wearing a midnight-blue silk dress that somehow managed to be even more breathtaking than the gold one.
The dress was simpler in design, but no less devastating.
It had a halter neckline that left her shoulders bare, and the silk draped in elegant folds made her look like some kind of classical statue come to life.
The color brought out undertones in her skin he’d never noticed before and made her blue eyes seem impossibly deep.
“This one is for the opening gala Friday evening,” Maurice explained, circling Claudia with a critical eye. “Classic, elegant, sophisticated. You’ll make quite an entrance.”
Claudia caught Sam staring and raised an eyebrow in question. He should say something. Something professional and appropriate. Something that didn’t reveal the entirely unprofessional thoughts running through his mind.
“It’s lovely,” he said, his voice coming out rougher than intended. “You look perfect.”
Her eyes widened, and he saw her swallow. The air between them felt charged suddenly, aware. Even Maurice and the seamstresses seemed to sense the shift, stepping back to give them space.
Barbara cleared her throat delicately. “Perhaps we should discuss the schedule? So Sam can provide context for which outfits will be appropriate for which events?”
It was a lifeline, and Sam grabbed it gratefully.
“Right. Yes. The schedule.” He pulled out his phone, more to have something to do with his hands than because he needed to check.
“Friday evening is the opening dinner and ball. That’s the main event, about two hundred guests.
Saturday has a poolside brunch, then free time in the afternoon, followed by a cocktail reception and another ball.
Sunday is a yacht excursion during the day and a farewell dinner in the evening, for those who haven’t already left.
Monday is just a casual brunch before the rest of the departures. ”
“You need something stunning for Friday night. It will be the first time they see her,” Maurice mused.
“The midnight-blue for that. Something more relaxed but still elegant for the Saturday brunch. The emerald-green for Saturday evening. And perhaps the gold for Sunday’s farewell dinner?
Of the three gowns, it’s the least complicated and subtle.
If you’re there for the Sunday dinner, it will be perfect for that.
If not…” Maurice shrugged as if it was no big loss.
“There’s an emerald-green?” Claudia asked weakly.
“Oh yes, wait until you see it. It will be magnificent on you.” Maurice made more notes. “And for the yacht excursion, I’m thinking white linen pants with a silk blouse. Very Riviera chic.”
Sam watched Claudia’s expression cycle through resignation, anxiety, and finally, a kind of determined acceptance.
She was going to do this, despite her discomfort, despite being so far out of her element she might as well be on another planet.
And she was doing it for him. For his Clan. To help him stop a dangerous criminal.
The realization made something warm unfurl in his chest.
“Why don’t we see the emerald dress next?” Barbara suggested with entirely too much innocence. “Since Sam is here providing input.”
Claudia shot Barbara a look that promised retribution, but she disappeared behind the screen again.
Sam heard the whisper of fabric, the low murmur of the seamstresses helping her change.
He tried not to think about what was happening behind that screen.
Tried not to imagine Claudia stepping out of the blue silk, the fabric sliding down her body.
He was definitely in trouble.
When she emerged in the emerald-green dress, Sam forgot how to form words entirely.
This gown was different from the others.
More daring. The color was rich and deep, like the heart of a forest, and it had a neckline that plunged in a deep V, showing a tantalizing amount of skin.
The skirt had a slit up one side that revealed a long expanse of leg when she moved.
It was the kind of dress that would stop traffic.
The kind of dress that would make every man in the room forget his own name.
Sam’s lion rumbled with pure approval. Mine, it seemed to say.
“Is it too over-the-top?” Claudia asked, looking down at herself with uncertainty. “I think this might be too much.”
“Non, non, non,” Maurice said firmly. “This is perfection. Trust me, chérie, when you walk into the room, every eye will be on you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she muttered.
But Sam could see it wasn’t just fear. There was something else in her expression. A flicker of pleasure, quickly suppressed. She liked how she looked in the dress, even if she was uncomfortable admitting it.
“You look incredible,” Sam said, and this time, he didn’t even try to make it sound professional.
Claudia’s eyes met his, and for a moment, the rest of the room faded away. There was just the two of them, and a new awareness hanging in the air between them.
“Well,” Barbara said brightly, breaking the spell, “I think we have everything we need for now. Maurice, can you have the final pieces ready by next week?”
“Mais oui. I’ll have my team working around the clock.” Maurice was making final notes on his tablet, a satisfied smile on his face. “Mademoiselle Claudia, you are going to be the belle of the Celestine Gala. Mark my words.”
As the seamstresses began carefully unpinning the dress and helping Claudia step down from the platform, Sam realized he was still sitting there, watching her, unable to tear his eyes away.
Barbara leaned over and spoke quietly, just for his ears. “You know, in all my years working for you, I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you’re looking at her right now.”
Sam pulled his gaze away from Claudia and met Barbara’s knowing eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Of course you don’t.” Her smile was understanding. “But maybe it’s time you figured it out. Before Monaco. Because if you wait too long, you might miss your chance.”
He wanted to deny it. Wanted to insist this was purely professional.
But the words wouldn’t come. Because Barbara was right.
Something had shifted today, watching Claudia in those dresses, seeing her step so far outside her comfort zone for him, meant a lot.
Or maybe it had been shifting all along, so gradually he hadn’t noticed until this moment.
Barbara gathered the garment bags while Maurice issued final instructions to his assistants.
The hum of voices and the soft rasp of hangers on the rolling rack filled the room.
Claudia stepped down off the platform, the emerald dress traded for her usual black slacks and a simple blouse behind the privacy screen that had been set up along one wall of the room so she could change in and out of the tailored clothes.
The return to practical clothing should have lowered Sam’s pulse. It did not.
“Final fitting next week,” Maurice announced. “I’ll bring the shoes and clutch pairings. We will keep alterations on site.”
“Thank you for everything, Maurice,” Claudia said, composed again. “And thank you, Barbara, for setting all this up.”
Barbara nodded. “Text me your preferred underlayers list. I’ll have duplicates sent to the suite.”
Claudia blinked. “There’s a list?”
“There will be,” Barbara said, already tapping notes into her phone. “Maurice, please send me the fabric tolerances for tape and stays.”
“Mais oui.”
The door closed on their little fashion whirlwind. The room felt larger and quieter. Sam could hear the building’s HVAC whispering through the vents, could smell a faint thread of lavender from the pin cushion someone had left behind.
Claudia tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and glanced at the mirror, then away.
“I have a few preparations to make for our trip that do not involve clothing. If you’ll come to the guest house one evening after work, I’ll set you up with some protective items that I’ve imbued with wards and other charms.”
Sam was surprised, but he supposed he shouldn’t have been. She was, first and foremost, a witch.
“You made them yourself?” he asked, wondering about the true nature of her power. He knew many mages specialized, and he wasn’t entirely certain of Claudia’s preferences for practicing her craft.
“I started as a metal mage,” she told him, then backtracked with a small grin.
“Actually, I started making jewelry as a teen and ended up studying metal smithing. Mostly silver, but I have done some gold smithing as well. I know to keep the silver away from shifters, so don’t fear on that score.
Anything I’ve made in silver was purely for the human market.
But I haven’t done a lot in gold until recently because of the cost of the metal.
I wasn’t born to a rich family. In fact, my family’s magic skipped a few generations to the point where it was mostly forgotten. ” She shrugged.
“I will gladly pay for any materials you need, and you will be compensated for anything you give me for this mission,” Sam was quick to tell her, but she shook her head.
“My magic is freely given, Alpha, and with what you’ve been paying me in consulting fees, I’ve been able to replenish my stock of gold to make things for your Clan. It’s all good. No payment required,” she assured him, but he still didn’t feel right about it.
He’d see that she was compensated in one way or another for her skill and the raw materials. The price of gold these days was high. But he decided not to push the issue right now. She’d already been pushed out of her comfort zone enough for one day.
“So the wards are baked into jewelry items? How does that work?” he asked, intrigued by what she had in store for him.
“As I said, being a metal mage, I can forge spells into the things I create with metal. It doesn’t have to be jewelry, but that’s how I started.
I’ve crafted a few accoutrements that any rich businessman such as yourself might carry.
Only these will have a little zing of magic that should protect you from any casual magical assaults, such as scrying or tracking spells.
Other things too, but hopefully, we won’t come up against any of that.
I’d like to give them to you in private, otherwise, I’d bring them to the office, but I feel like the less people who see them, the better.
Even among your Clan. I hope that doesn’t offend you.
” She looked a bit nervous to Sam’s eyes, and he wanted to put her at ease.
“I’m familiar with operational security, Claudia, and I don’t mind stopping by my own guest house for a few minutes. I’ve got a late teleconference tonight, but I can come by tomorrow after dinner. Is that a good time for you?”
“That’s fine, Alpha. I’ll have the items ready for you.”
“Should I assume you’ll have your own jewelry then? I think Barbara had planned to hire some flashy pieces to complement the new dresses. Should I tell her not to?”
Claudia cringed. “Normally, I would wear my own pieces, but I don’t think they’ll go with haute couture.
Frankly, I feel like Barbara knows a lot more than I ever will about how I should look for this event.
I’ll limit my own charms to those that can’t be easily seen.
That works well, anyway, since something that can’t be easily seen also can’t be easily targeted by our enemies.
If Barbara gets the jewels in time, I can put some wards on them too.
It won’t be as thorough or powerful as the ones I put into the pieces as I make them, but I’ll have to inspect anything she wants me to wear in any case, to make sure it isn’t cursed in some way.
Might as well put my own protections on them while I’m at it. ”
Sam wasn’t sure how that all worked, but it sounded reasonable. “I’m sure you can schedule that with Barbara. Just let her know how far in advance you need the jewels, and she’ll arrange everything.”
“Will do, boss,” she quipped, her usual good mood coming back bit by bit.
The pretty mage who had stood like a supermodel in gold and emerald now wore her usual calm like armor. He understood the instinct. Wear the right face for the job. He had built his career on the old fake-it-til-you-make-it adage.
“You know, when I took over as Alpha, the Clan wasn’t doing too well financially,” he told her, feeling the need to share a bit of his own story with her.
“It was a scramble in the early days, just to keep the lights on in everyone’s houses and food on their tables.
The tragedy that led to me becoming Alpha at a young age left the entire Clan in dire straits.
There were quite a few lean years. So, just because I have money at my disposal now, doesn’t mean I don’t understand the lack of it.
Besides, it’s not really my money. Any amounts in the bank with my name on them really belong to the Clan as a whole. I’m just the caretaker.”
“And the one who made such prosperity possible,” she complimented him.
“I’ve heard how you brought Kinkaid Industries back from the brink of disaster, and since coming here and meeting your people, I’ve discovered their love for you and the basis for it.
You saved this Clan and kept it from falling apart. ”
“Don’t give me too much credit. It was a team effort,” he said, feeling a bit uncomfortable with her praise.
“Without your leadership, I’m not sure the Clan would have survived,” she insisted, then thankfully, let it go.
They stood there, both of them still for a beat that stretched.
He could have filled it with small talk.
He could have asked about Granny Tucker’s schedule or about how Claudia liked his guest house.
He could have said the things an Alpha says to keep a line between himself and the people who serve beside him.
Instead, he opted for friendship. If nothing else, he wanted to be Claudia’s friend.