Page 22 of Fake Dating the Prince

Brayden suspected Clara might have some musical training, because she had no trouble at all finding the beat. She watched with intent focus as Brayden demonstrated the natural step—first his part and then hers.

“The grip will be a little weird since I’m just a smidge taller than you, but we’ll improvise.” He put his hand on her shoulder instead of beneath it. “Ready to try?”

She pursed her lips in thought and then gave a decisive nod. “Okay.”

“Count with me, then. We’ll go on zero.” Brayden counted down from nine, giving her three measures to get the rhythm. Then they were off, not exactly flying but not doing too badly either. Clara moved gracefully, though she was a bit quicker on her right than her left—a little practice would close that gap.

“You’re doing great,” Brayden said, noting a couple who appeared to have imbibed a little too freely heading in their direction. “We’re going to try it going the other way now, okay? Or we’re going to get run over.” He indicated with his head.

Clara’s eyes widened. “Okay.”

He didn’t want to push his luck by adding a leg cross on the fly, so he improvised a reverse step. It would have been perfect, except the drunk couple had sped up and changed course too. One of them bumped into Brayden hard enough to send him careening into Clara, though he managed to avoid doing her a worse injury than stepping on her toe.

“Oh my God,” the woman who’d bumped into them said. She looked mortified. “I’m so sorry. Babe, I think maybe we should sit the next couple out and drink some water. Can I get you anything?” She directed this last to Brayden and Clara.

“I’m okay,” Brayden said, hoping his protégée wouldn’t be discouraged by their setback. “Clara?”

She shook her head that she didn’t want anything, and the couple left.

“I’m sorry I stepped on your foot,” Brayden said. “Even good dancers can’t always avoid a collision if there’s alcohol involved. Don’t drink and dance. Are your toes okay?”

Clara looked at him as though he’d grown a second head. Then she smiled like the sun coming up and lifted the hem of her dress.

When she was standing, the hem went nearly to the floor. Now, though, Brayden could see that her left leg ended in a prosthetic just below the knee.

He shook his head and offered his hand once more. “Well, if your toes aren’t hurt, do you want to try again?”

FLIPwatched from across the room as Brayden sat down at Clara’s table and struck up a conversation. He ached to join them, but he couldn’t. Though the scholarship facilitator had taken over emcee duties, Flip had compatible people to introduce—dancers and choreographers, musicians and conductors, actors and directors—and hands to glad. Still, he did his best to move in that direction. Maybe he could steal Brayden for another dance. If not, at least Clara would regale him with her observations from people-watching.

He had made it halfway there when they got up to dance, and Flip stopped listening to the person he’d been speaking to. His aunt happened to be walking past, and he touched her arm as she went by and pointed discreetly to the lesson.

His conversation partner turned to look as well as Flip’s cousin Clara took her first turn on the dance floor in Brayden’s capable arms. Flip wanted to tell them to turn away and let her have this moment, since no one else seemed to be paying attention. But he didn’t want to be rude.

“She’s not bad for a first-timer,” Flip’s erstwhile companion commented.

Flip was still trying to pick his jaw up off the floor. Aunt Ines clutched his arm hard enough to bruise. “Did you put him up to that?”

He shook his head, not taking his eyes off them. “That’s just… Brayden.”

Ines dug her fingers deeper when the heiress and her husband got too close and then knocked into Brayden, pushing him into Clara. Flip’s stomach knotted too. But the drunken couple ambled off, leaving—

Clara raising the hem of her dress to show her leg,beaming.

Ines sniffed. Flip wanted to sit down.

How was he supposed to pretend to end things between them when all he wanted was to begin something real?

“That’s a good man,” Ines said a few furious blinks later.

Flip couldn’t disagree.

By the time he made it over to their table, the dancing seemed to have finished, and he interrupted a lively conversation about the merits of skiing versus snowboarding. Clara almost looked willing to entertain the idea of switching when she saw Flip.

“Flip!” She flung herself at his waist. “Brayden taught me the waltz.”

He reminded himself she was too big to spin around, and she wouldn’t like it in public anyway. “I saw. You didn’t save your first waltz for me?”

“You were busy doingprince things. Brayden was bored.”

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