Chapter 8
Time passed in a blur of preparation and careful avoidance.
Claudia threw herself into her work, reinforcing wards on the last of the Kinkaid properties, consulting with Granny Tucker about potential magical threats they might face, and studying everything Gavin’s intelligence team had gathered about Abdul Kettering.
She told herself she wasn’t avoiding Sam.
She was just busy. Focused on the mission.
The fact that she timed her arrivals and departures to minimize running into him was purely coincidental. Except it wasn’t, and they both knew it.
When they did cross paths in the hallway or at meetings, the air between them felt charged.
Sam’s eyes would linger on her face, and she’d remember the taste of his kiss.
She’d catch herself staring at his hands and thinking about how his fingers had felt in her hair, and his hands on her waist, holding her like she was something precious.
It was torture. Sweet, impossible torture.
By the second week, Claudia had almost convinced herself that she could make it through the rest of the time before they left without completely embarrassing herself. Then Barbara appeared in her office doorway with a smile that immediately put her on alert.
“Sam asked me to let you know that he’s arranged a dancing lesson for tonight,” Barbara said. “Seven o’clock in Conference Room A.”
Claudia’s stomach dropped. “A dancing lesson?”
“He thought it would be wise to brush up a bit before Monaco. You know, so you’re comfortable with each other on the dance floor.” Barbara’s smile was entirely too knowing. “Margo will be instructing. She’s done Broadway, so she knows her stuff.”
“Right. Of course. That makes sense.” Claudia tried to sound professional, even though she was suddenly nervous. “I’ll be there.”
After Barbara left, Claudia stared at her computer screen without seeing it. Dancing. With Sam. In a conference room with music and an instructor watching them.
This was going to be a disaster.
She spent the rest of the afternoon trying to focus on work and failing miserably.
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, she’d paced her office more times than she could count, redone her ponytail twice, and given herself a stern talking-to about maintaining professional boundaries. None of it helped.
Conference Room A was on the executive floor, one of the larger spaces used for board meetings and presentations.
When Claudia arrived, she found the furniture had been pushed to the walls, creating an open space in the center.
The overhead fluorescents were off, replaced by softer lighting from floor lamps someone had brought in.
It transformed the corporate space into something intimate and almost romantic.
Sam was already there, talking with a striking woman who had to be Margo. She was tall and lean, with dark skin and those leonine eyes shared by many of the Kinkaids. She moved with the kind of fluid grace that marked her as both a performer and a shifter.
“Claudia,” Sam said, turning as she entered. His smile was warm, genuine, and did dangerous things to her composure. “Thanks for coming. This is Margo. Margo, meet Claudia.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Margo said, her voice rich and melodious. “Sam tells me you need to be ready for some serious ballroom action in Monaco.”
“I’m not much of a dancer,” Claudia admitted. “Fair warning.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” Margo gestured to the open space. “And don’t worry. With Sam as your partner, you’ll be just fine. Shifters have natural rhythm, and Sam’s one of the most graceful men I know.”
Sam looked faintly embarrassed by the compliment, which Claudia found endearing. “You’re biased because I funded your last production.”
“I’m biased because it’s true.” Margo pulled out her phone and connected it to the room’s sound system. “Now, let’s start with the basics. Claudia, have you ever done any formal ballroom dancing?”
“Does high school prom count?”
“Not really, but we’ll work with it.” Margo dimmed the lights even further, and soft music began to play.
Something classical and elegant, the kind of thing Claudia imagined hearing at fancy galas.
“The most important thing to remember is that you’re dancing together, not separately.
Sam will lead, but you need to be responsive to his movements. Trust him to guide you.”
Trust him. Right. That was definitely the problem here.
Sam moved into the open space and held out his hand. “Ready?”
No, Claudia thought. Not even a little bit.
“Sure,” she said, and placed her hand in his.
His fingers closed around hers, warm and strong, and suddenly, they were standing close. Closer than they’d been since that kiss in the guest house kitchen. His other hand settled on her waist, and she tried to remember where her own hand was supposed to go.
“Left hand on his shoulder,” Margo instructed. “Good. Now, Sam, show her the basic box step.”
The first few minutes were awkward. Claudia stumbled over her own feet, hyperaware of every place their bodies touched. Sam was patient, guiding her through the steps with quiet encouragement, but she felt clumsy and out of place.
“You’re thinking too much,” Margo observed. “Dancing isn’t about the steps, Claudia. It’s about feeling the music, trusting your partner, letting go of control.”
“Letting go of control isn’t really my strong suit,” Claudia muttered.
“I’ve noticed,” Sam said, but his tone was gentle, almost teasing. “Just focus on me. Forget about the steps.”
“How am I supposed to forget about the steps? The steps are the whole point.”
“No, they’re not.” He pulled her a fraction closer, and she felt the solid warmth of him against her. “The point is this. You and me, moving together. Everything else is just mechanics.”
Margo changed the song, and something slower started playing.
A waltz, Claudia thought, though she wasn’t entirely sure.
Sam began to move, and this time, instead of thinking about where her feet were supposed to go, she focused on him.
On the pressure of his hand at her waist, the shift of his shoulders, the slight tightening of his fingers that signaled a turn.
And somehow, miraculously, she started to follow.
“There we go,” Sam murmured. “Just like that.”
They moved across the floor, and Claudia felt something shift inside her. The awkwardness faded, replaced by a growing sense of rightness. Sam’s movements were fluid and confident, and she found herself anticipating them, her body responding before her mind could catch up.
“Beautiful,” Margo said from somewhere behind them. “You two are naturals together.”
Sam spun her gently, and Claudia’s breath caught as he pulled her back in. They were closer now, barely any space between them. She could see the gold flecks in his eyes, could feel the rise and fall of his chest.
“Okay?” he asked quietly.
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
The music swelled, something sweeping and romantic, and Sam led her into a more complex pattern.
Turns and pivots, steps that should have been beyond her skill level, but somehow, she followed.
It was like their bodies were speaking a language her conscious mind didn’t understand, communicating through touch and movement and the space between heartbeats.
Her magic rose unbidden, responding to the emotion flooding through her.
She tried to push it down, to keep it contained, but it slipped through her careful control.
Silver-gold sparkles began to appear in the air around them, swirling like tiny stars, catching the light and reflecting it back in a thousand glittering points.
It was like dancing under a mirror ball made of magic itself.
Sam’s eyes widened, but he didn’t stop moving. If anything, he pulled her closer, spinning them through the cascade of light. The sparkles followed their movements, tracing patterns in the air, beautiful and ephemeral and utterly unintentional.
Claudia heard a soft intake of breath from the edge of the room. She’d almost forgotten Margo was there, watching them. But she couldn’t stop now, couldn’t pull away from Sam or the magic or the way they moved together like they’d been doing this for years, instead of minutes.
The song built to a crescendo, and Sam dipped her, one hand supporting her back as she arched gracefully. The sparkles swirled around them like a galaxy, and for one perfect, suspended moment, there was nothing but the two of them, the music, and the magic that connected them.
Then the song ended, fading into silence, and reality came crashing back.
Sam pulled her upright slowly, his hand lingering on her back. They stood there, breathing hard, staring at each other. The sparkles faded gradually, winking out one by one, until the room was just a dimly lit conference space again.
“That was…” Sam’s voice was rough. He cleared his throat. “That was good.”
“Good,” Claudia echoed, feeling dazed. Her magic was still humming under her skin, wanting more, wanting to reach out and twine around him again.
From across the room, Margo made a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. When Claudia turned to look at her, she saw tears streaming down the other woman’s face.
“I’m sorry,” Margo said, wiping at her eyes. “That was just so beautiful. You two together, the way you moved, and then that magic. I’ve seen a lot of dancing in my career, but nothing like that. Nothing even close.”
Claudia felt her cheeks burn. “I didn’t mean to do that. The sparkles. It just happened.”
“Don’t apologize.” Margo’s smile was warm, despite the tears. “It was perfect. You’re perfect together.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Claudia couldn’t look at Sam, couldn’t bear to see his reaction to that statement.
“We should probably practice some more,” Sam said after a long moment. “Try some different styles. They’ll likely play everything from waltzes to modern music at the gala.”
“Right. Yes. Practice.” Claudia took a step back, putting distance between them. “I need to get control, so the sparkles don’t show up unexpectedly in public. That would be bad.”
Sam just chuckled at her self-chastising words as he swept her into the next dance pattern at Margo’s instruction.
They spent the next hour running through different dances.
A tango that left Claudia breathless and flushed.
A simple foxtrot that should have been easy but felt charged with tension.
A slow dance that was almost worse than the tango because it required them to be close without the distraction of complicated steps.
Margo coached them through each one, offering suggestions and corrections, but her eyes kept shining with that same emotional intensity. Like she was watching something momentous unfold.
By the time they finished, Claudia’s feet hurt, and her magic was exhausted from keeping it contained. No more sparkles had appeared, but only through sheer force of will.
“You’ll be the talk of Monaco,” Margo said as she packed up her equipment. “Trust me. The way you two move together, people won’t be able to look away.”
“Thank you for your help,” Sam said. “I appreciate you staying late for this.”
“Anytime, Alpha. Truly.” Margo paused at the door, looking back at them. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re brave. Both of you.”
Then she was gone, leaving Sam and Claudia alone in the dimly lit room. Claudia was truly puzzled by her last words but couldn’t find the courage to ask Sam what he thought Margo had meant.
“We should probably head out too,” Claudia said, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s getting late.”
“Claudia.” Sam’s voice stopped her as she turned toward the door. “About what happened. The magic, the sparkles. I know you said it was an accident, but—”
“It was,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear whatever he was going to say. Not wanting confirmation that it meant nothing to him while it had very obviously meant something to her. “Just my magic responding to the music. It happens sometimes when I’m distracted.”
“Right. Distracted.” He studied her face, and she had the uncomfortable feeling he could see right through her lies. “Still, it was beautiful. You were beautiful.”
The compliment made her chest tight. “We should go.”
“Of course.” Sam moved to hold the door open for her. “We leave in just a few days. Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Claudia slipped past him into the hallway, careful not to touch him. If she touched him now, with her defenses low and her emotions so close to the surface, she didn’t know what might happen.
They walked to the elevator together in silence. When the doors opened, they both stepped in, and Claudia hit the button for the parking garage.
“Thank you for tonight,” Sam said as they descended. “For being willing to practice. I know it was probably awkward.”
Awkward. That was one word for it.
“It’s fine. You were right. We needed to be comfortable dancing together.” She stared at the numbers counting down. “For the mission.”
“For the mission,” he agreed, but something in his tone made her glance over at him.
He was already looking at her, his gaze intense in the elevator’s bright light. The air between them felt heavy, charged with all the things they weren’t saying.
The doors opened, breaking the spell. He walked her to her car, which she found a bit disconcerting, but also sort of sweet.
She walked to her car on legs that felt unsteady, her magic still humming with the memory of dancing with him. Of moving together like they were two parts of a whole. Of creating something beautiful and ephemeral and utterly impossible.
“Goodnight, Claudia,” Sam said, standing aside as she unlocked her car door and got in. She looked up at him before closing the door.
“Goodnight, Sam.” She closed the car door and he stepped back, standing for a moment, just watching as she started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.
She waved at him and he finally started walking back toward the elevator. It had been a weird encounter, but she was warmed by the fact that he’d made sure she was safe, even in a building that was under his Clan’s control and as safe as it could be.
In a few days, they’d be on a plane to Monaco.
Then, they’d be at the Celestine Gala, playing pretend for an audience of billionaires and criminals.
But tonight, for a few perfect moments, it hadn’t felt like pretending at all.
And that, Claudia thought as she drove to her temporary home, was the most dangerous thing of all.