Faked (Ward Family #2)(10)

Claire sniffed delicately, and I caught the way her fingers tightened in her lap. Pondering that as I brought us closer to this little performance, I expected her to fail, it only took me a few seconds to place it. Athletes.

Of course.

Princess was an apt name for her when I thought of her in terms of her upbringing. The Wards were absolute football royalty. More than likely, this dinner would have more than one player from the Washington Wolves present. Maybe some front office staff as well. It was a who's who of the Pacific Northwest philanthropic scene, and that included players from every major professional team in the state. People who'd known Claire and Lia since they were toddlers could be there. Wouldn't that be interesting?

Yet she was risking that for reasons I couldn't fathom.

She cleared her throat as I pulled up to the Four Seasons. The crisply dressed valet opened Claire's door, and I caught the way his eyes widened appreciatively.

Yeah, tell me about it, buddy.

I left the keys in the ignition for him, giving his hand a brief shake as he stood by my side of the Jeep.

Claire was paused just under the lights strung across the entrance to the hotel, and the wavy length of her deep brown hair caught those lights in the fading sun. I tilted my head and watched her for a moment.

It had been a while since I'd spent an evening like this with a woman, especially someone like Claire. Dressed up and out on the town, with a good girl to boot. It almost felt like I was someone else because I'd managed to find myself in such a strange situation.

She was incredibly beautiful in the unaffected, natural way that heavily made-up women hated. There was something about the way she was staring up at the tall slate-colored building with its sprawling view of the sound, something I couldn't define. She had a hint of childlike wonder as her eyes touched on the Ferris wheel on the pier and in the slight curl of her lips.

Watching her, I felt my chest swell with something foreign and warm at the thought I was the man who'd walk into that room with her on my arm.

No one else.

Not Golden Boy or any of the other peacocks under that roof.

Just me.

I came up behind her quietly as she continued to stare at the view with awe.

In every way, Claire Ward was too good for me. She was neat and clean and innocent with no trace of a scar or ink on her skin that I could see. It was obvious in her eyes that she was loved and happy and secure, and that was the kind of woman I had no place feeling any sort of attraction to, but very slowly, I reached my hand out and cupped her elbow with my hand, just so that I could feel her skin against the pads of my fingers.

She startled but didn't pull away.

"Ready for your entrance, princess?" I murmured next to her ear. The edges of her hair tickled my mouth; that was how closely I was standing next to her. Why was she here?

Claire didn't answer right away, but she took another one of those deep, fortifying breaths and turned to catch my stare.

My heart turned uncomfortably in my chest.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she answered seriously.

My lips hooked in a smile, and I held out my elbow. This protective instinct to help her through the evening took me by surprise, more than even her presence had. As her small hand curled around the crook of my arm, I grinned more widely.

"Let's go raise some hell, shall we?"

I was gifted a wide, unaffected smile in answer.

As we walked through the modernly decorated lobby, I felt like a king next to her with the way eyes followed her.

The ballroom doors were opened wide, and tuxedo-clad men and beautifully dressed women filtered in and out, mingling in groups and chatting and laughing loudly. The massive white floral displays topping the tables had sprays of flowers and branches that were probably taller than me. The far wall was made entirely of windows overlooking the water, and in the distance, it was easy to make out the mountains.

Every time I saw a mountain, no matter where I was, my entire soul vibrated with the desire to be hurtling down its paths. Instead, I had to breathe through the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped in a ballroom.

I felt Claire's fingers curl further into my arm. When I glanced down to see what caused the increase in pressure, I noticed my dad and Adele approaching.

If I was waiting impatiently for Adele's reaction, I was about to be sorely disappointed. Her face, as well as my dad's, showed zero shock at my appearance.

Fucking Finn. Couldn't lie to save his life.

So I pasted a polite smile on my face and glanced at my date.

To Claire's credit, she was far more prepared for this portion of the evening than she had been for my surprise appearance.

"You look incredible, Adele," she said, leaning forward to give my stepmom a brief hug. "That color is killer on you."

Adele preened under the attention. "Thanks, hun. I feel a lot more comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt, but it feels nice to dress up from time to time, doesn't it?"

Claire grinned, looking so much like her sister that I had to blink.

"You're telling me you don't wear that gown to the center? Come on, you wouldn't need my help getting any donations if that was the case."

My dad laughed, sliding his arm around Adele's waist.

"Bauer," Adele said, her smile slightly more strained.

"You look beautiful," I told her dutifully. I shook my dad's hand.