Lovers' Dance

by Carr, K

  Matt hid his wince at her use of his nickname. “Yes?”

  “Is there something going on between yourself and Grumps?” she queried curiously. Matt’s eyes narrowed instinctively and Hannah didn’t miss the action. “He’s been complaining about your lack of contact the past month and a half, maybe longer than that.”

  Matt’s face hardened as he responded in a smooth but dark voice. “Has he now?”

  Hannah’s mouth parted slightly in surprise at his tone. She shared a quick glance with her husband before patting Matt’s arm. “Yes, he has. You know you’re his favourite. He misses you terribly and you should call—”

  “Has he explained the reason behind my lack of contact, Hannah?” Matt drawled, feeling his annoyance rise as he thought about the last time he’d seen his grandfather. Hannah shook her head slowly, her expression becoming perplexed. Matt scoffed derisively. “No, he hasn’t. When next you speak to Grumps, tell him I meant everything I said.” Matt leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek. “You must excuse me. It’s late and Madi and I are flying out tomorrow morning.”

  Hannah frowned at him, then said in her no-nonsense voice, “Don’t forget we’re having you both over for dinner when you get back. The girls have been pestering me to have her come to the house.” She glanced in Madi’s direction and sighed softly. “Poor thing. Our parents are being beastly in their treatment of her. Mum especially.”

  Matt nodded in agreement, mouth compressed in a tight line. “That’s their problem, not ours.” He held a hand out to his brother-in-law. “Stuart, I’ll see you soon.”

  After a handshake that morphed into a polite brotherly half hug, Matt strolled through the many guests until he stood quietly behind her. She had gotten rid of her drink and was unaware of his presence, engrossed in studiously peering at the painting on the wall. Her scent, delicate on the air around her, wafted up his nostrils. Wild flowers. He had decided since the early days of their relationship that scent was intrinsically her. He had as of yet to find any lotion or soap that she used with this particular scent. She was his wild flower.

  “Would you like one, poppet?” he murmured, startling a tiny gasp from her lips. His hand landed on the small of her back and Matt had to forcibly stifle the surge of desire that threatened to overwhelm him.

  Madi twisted around, a disbelieving smirk on her luscious mouth. “Who wouldn’t want a Monet?” She rested her hand across his chest, and Matt had to battle his body’s urges at her light touch. She smiled sweetly at him. “But because you want something doesn’t mean you can have it.”

  Matt pulled her closer into his body. “If you want it, I’ll ensure you get it. Anything you want, I’ll move heaven and earth to get it for you.”

  Madi leaned back, in the circle of his arms, and a pensive look cascaded over her face. “Matt, don’t you dare. It’s bad enough your mom thinks I’m trying to fleece you—”

  “Pardon?” Matt frowned deeply. “Why would you say that? Did she say something to you, poppet? I swear if she’s said—”

  “Calm down, you silly man.” She leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I know your family are a bit worried about the nature of our relationship. I don’t want them thinking it’s something that it’s not.”

  Matt pulled her closer, the contour of her body seamless against his, generating a hungry heat in him that could only be sated with their clothes off. Bloody hell. He needed to get her home and in bed before he lost his calm demeanour.

  “I’ve told you,” he murmured into her hair. “My parents will eventually come around. Besides, my siblings adore you.”

  “Ha,” she muttered. “Adam takes the piss, as you like to say, and Hannah is polite. Even if she hated my guts, I would never know. English people are like that, no outward show of emotion. Unflappable reserve. Cool as freaking cucumbers. It’s infuriating. For once, I would like someone to say exactly what they feel.”

  Matt held her gaze as he drawled, “Like my grandfather for example?”

  There was a second of pure alarm on her face before she schooled her features into one of nonchalance. Matt bent his lips to her ear. “I know what he said to you. I’ve known for some time now. You should’ve confided in me.”

  She pulled away from him and Matt let her. It was with unhappy eyes she peered at him. “Can we discuss it later, Matt?”

  Matt nodded, holding a hand out for her. “We can if you choose, but I’ve already made my feelings quite clear on that distasteful incident. Rest assured, poppet, the next time you see my grandfather, he’ll be apologizing and asking your forgiveness.”

  Her face went blank for a moment, right before she burst into laughter. More than a few heads turned in their direction. Some curious, others with reproach. Matt ignored them, too entranced by the way her face lit up with humour. He couldn’t stop the wide grin from splitting his face.

  “You don’t believe me?” he asked, feigning hurt.

  She shook her head laughing, albeit not as loud. “It will be a cold day in hell before your grandfather apologizes to me. And ask forgiveness? Oh, Matt. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Matt shook his head, hand slipping possessively to her waist. “Come on, poppet. Let’s go say our goodbyes to Nathan and Bella. We’ve shagged a grand total of three times this week since you broke me on my return, and I’m not happy about that. If I don’t get my minimum twice a day dose, I start getting grouchy. You don’t want that, do you?”

  She batted her eyelashes at him in an attempt of seduction. She looked as if she was trying to blink an irritating fleck out of her eyes. Totally ridiculous and completely endearing.

  “You’re always grouchy,” she retorted, clutching her purse in one hand.

  Matt winked at her. “Now you know why.”

  She gave him a tender smile as she shook her head. “You make me smile.” Her eyes narrowed for a second. “Well, most of the times. Sometimes you get on my last damn nerve—ouch!”

  Matt grinned. The tap he’d delivered to her arse was a light one. His hand lingered, as if magnetized to, in his opinion, the best arse he’d ever seen.

  “Matt,” she hissed, trying to slide away. “People can see.”

  “Mmm,” he drawled, smoothing his hand over her bum before resting his hand on her lower back. “Apologies, poppet. I will behave in public. In private though...” Matt let his gaze linger over the outlines of her breasts before lowering. He traced his inner lip with his tongue and her eyes widened in embarrassment. Matt made no attempt to keep his lustful thoughts off his face. To hell with anyone watching.

  “Stop it,” she whispered tartly.

  He grinned, urging her forward. It was half an hour before they had managed to say their goodbyes to Nathan and Bella, plus the other necessary people who had to be acknowledged by Matt before leaving. His parents were dismissive of Madi—polite, but dismissive. He would need to have a sit down with them. They needed to accept the fact Madi wasn’t going anywhere. The sooner they accepted it, the better.

  “Buckle up,” Matt reminded her when they were seated in his car. She flashed him an absent-minded smile while she did as ordered, attention fixed on her mobile. His curiosity eventually won out after he’d tried to draw her into a conversation and got monosyllables in response.

  “Who are you texting, poppet?”

  She didn’t lift her head in his direction. “Dante.”

  He rolled his eyes at her one word answer before prompting with a polite, “Why?”

  Finally she raised her head and glanced over at him. “He needs me to stop by his place to pick some stuff up. I can’t believe he’s not coming home with me for Thanksgiving.”

  Matt ignored her obvious desire to have her friend accompany her on the trip home. What was he? Chopped liver? He checked the time on the dashboard.

  “You do know it’s gone ten, and I’ve told my pilot we’ll be flying out at five am. You haven’t finished packing, Madison.”

  S
he shrugged, fiddling with her mobile. “I’ve probably got clothes at Aunt Cleo’s anyway. I don’t need to pack much.”

  Matt snorted and focused on the road ahead. “So we’re heading to Greenwich, then.”

  She looked at him. “No, hon, you don’t need to do that. We’ll head back to yours, then I’ll drive to Dante’s.”

  Matt arched an eyebrow at her. He didn’t like that plan. It was late and she drove like a boy racer sometimes. “I don’t mind.”

  “You’re not going to let me go on my own, are you?”

  Matt smiled, reaching over to pat her leg lightly. “No, poppet, I’m not.”

  She sighed loudly, rolling her eyes at him, before turning her attention back to her mobile. Matt watched her out the corner of his eyes. This trip would be full of surprises. He simply needed to charm her family, and he had every intention of being successful in that endeavour. By the time this brief holiday drew to a close, things with his poppet would be different…

  TWENTY

  MATT’S PRIVATE JET was as impressive as I remembered and the pilot had given me the same curious look like last time. You would swear I was another life form or something, the way he looked at me. Belinda, the woman who had accompanied us on the trip to Venice, was also there. Her hair was a rich burgundy now instead of the strawberry blonde from those months ago. She was rocking her new hair-do and surreptitiously watching my knight with longing etched on her face. Those secret looks she sent Matt’s way had me wondering if the two of them used to get it on. The manner in which she observed him was that intense. Matt seemed utterly oblivious to it. Bar his pleasant greeting and brief rundown of how he expected our flight to go, he hadn’t paid her much attention. I hadn’t missed the disappointment on her face when Matt didn’t glance at her creamy cleavage peeking from under her suit. Big boobies. Damn. What had I been doing when God was handing out the big boobs’ gene? Obviously not getting in line. I’d also missed out on the big, curvy ass gene that my hot black sisters had. I consoled myself with the fact I had the required figure for a ballerina. Frustratingly flat, everywhere. I twisted my head back, checking out my jeans-covered ass. I wasn’t white girl flat, but I wasn’t the expected black girl bountiful, either.

  “Two hours late, poppet,” Matt groused, shaking his head at me as we took our seats. I ignored the slight irritation in his voice and peered out the window. It was best to pay no heed to Matt when he got like this. By the time we took off, his mood had improved considerably.

  “You’re a bad influence, Matt,” I joked, and he blinked his beautiful eyes at me. I continued. “How can I happily travel with normal airlines when I’m used to a private jet? I mean, I don’t have to worry about overweight luggage or liquids in my carry on. Or being squashed next to a smelly person who wants to tell you their life story, never mind the fact you won’t see that person again. Or the horrible food they serve…” My voice trailed off as he leaned across to kiss me, slowly exploring the contours of my mouth with his skilful tongue. When he pulled away, we were both a bit breathless.

  “As you can see,” he murmured. “There are many benefits to being with a man such like myself.”

  I snorted at his smugness and stroked his smooth jaw line. The stubble from last Monday night had been gone when I returned to his house Tuesday evening.

  “Lack of sleep?” I suggested.

  Matt kissed the corner of my mouth.

  “Being bossed around all the time?” I added.

  He trailed soft kisses over my cheek.

  “Forced to attend boring—eww!”

  Matt stuck his tongue in my ear, uncharacteristically playful, then chuckled huskily. “Are you hungry, poppet? We didn’t have breakfast earlier.”

  I nodded in acceptance and, with a kiss over my temple, Matt rose from his seat. I couldn’t stop my gaze of admiration. Even though his clothes were casual, they were a catwalk sort of casual. The dark-grey sweater he wore over his shirt served to accentuate the muscular lines of his upper body, his matching pants loose enough to be comfortable but unable to hide his current arousal. Hmm, my kisses were damned good, too. But the thing that I loved the most about his look today was the tousled waves of his silky, black hair. Whenever the locks weren’t brushed back into sleekness, I knew he was relaxed. Carefree. Not Matthew Bradley, gazillionaire business tycoon, who was the perfect example of what an intelligent, sophisticated man should be, but my Matt—sweet, goofy and lovable.

  I sighed and fingered my French braid. Would Aunt Cleo accept him? I knew she would be outwardly polite. She would die before acting in the manner I knew she expected him to view her in. We hadn’t spoken. My message had been followed by a return message from her. One asking if I’d lost my mind. I had left another message stating Matt was definitely coming with me and, if she didn’t want him staying there, I would book us a hotel room. She had in turn left a message saying I was coming home, and home was where I would be staying.

  It was almost funny the way we would time our calls in order to ensure the chances of the other person picking up the call were next to none. A couple of times when I called and someone answered, I had hung up sweating like a marathon runner and scared like a chicken facing a beheading and, ultimately, ending up in the fryer.

  I stared at the clouds, remembering the engagement party yesterday evening. Matt’s parents were cold, well, his mother was frigid and his father perhaps thawing. William Bradley, Jr had smiled at me once…I think. Maybe he had gas and it was a grimace, not a smile. Whatever it was, it had been fleeting and possibly a figment of my imagination. They hadn’t spoken much to me, nothing more than a polite “Hello, how do you do?” and a “Goodbye.”

  Matt was crazy if he believed they would eventually come around. Portia Bradley did not like me, and I doubted she ever would. Then there was Medusa; oh, yes, she had been at the engagement party, too, looking like every man’s wet dream and constantly finding herself next to Matt whenever I wasn’t near. He hadn’t given me any cause to be jealous though, maintaining a cool demeanour with his beautiful ex. Another sigh fell from my lips as I chewed my bottom lip. She was a part of his crowd, a long-standing friend. As much as I hated the fact Matt use to sex her up, I couldn’t expect him to give her and her family the cold shoulder. That would be unbecoming.

  “Here you go, Ms DuMont.” Belinda’s voice startled me out of my musings. She took plates and cutlery off the trolley that was laden with fruits, yogurt, French toast, a selection of jams and meat, and runny eggs. I gagged in the back of my throat at the eggs as she efficiently laid out the food.

  “Thank you, Belinda.” I managed a smile which she didn’t return. “Where’s Matt?”

  “Mr Bradley is making a call at the moment. He’ll be with you shortly,” she replied, eyes going towards the back of the plane with the tiniest of smiles.

  My own eyes narrowed. Matt would never—I shoved that thought down. He was a gentleman. Having an illicit encounter with his hot staff while I ate breakfast a few feet away was not only in bad taste, but ridiculous.

  Belinda had a wistful gleam in her eyes though, as she flashed me an empty smile, then started wheeling the trolley to the rear of Matt’s private plane. I half crawled over the seat Matt had vacated and craned my neck around it. Who the hell could maintain a sexy sway like that when they walked down the aisle on an airplane? I couldn’t, and I was a ballerina. She must be a realistic robot. I turned back to the tray of food left on the table and picked up the yogurt. The eggs Matt could have when he came back. I was counting down in my head. Anything longer than five more minutes, and I would be heading for the back of the plane. I wasn’t jealous, but I wasn’t stupid, either. The way Belinda looked at Matt was too intense for the normal employer/employee relationship. Should I ask him? Maybe not. Saying, “Hon, have you boinked Belinda?” would result in a carefree Matt turning into an offended Matt, who would give me a stern talking to. Before my spoon scraped the bottom of the yogurt tub, Matt was reclaiming his seat next to
me. Lucky, lucky man; the five minutes were almost up.

  “Is that all you’re having?” Matt frowned at me as he picked up a plate and started dishing up for himself. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

  I finished my yogurt and reached for another. Matt slid two of those runny eggs on his plate. Eww. No kisses for him.

  “Have some French toast,” he ordered, putting down his plate and grabbing up one for me that he proceeded to heap with toast and salami and—

  “Don’t put that half-cooked egg on my plate,” I warned.

  Matt slid it back and put cheese on instead before placing the plate in front of me. “Eat up, poppet.”

  I opened my second yogurt and ate that up before starting on the plate he’d prepared for me. Only when it was devoid of food did he finally flash me a satisfied smile.

  Belinda came to take our plates and the remaining food away. Matt was the recipient of a sidelong, lusty stare which he ignored. To hell with keeping my suspicions to myself. Knowledge was power, and I needed to be knowledgeable about any boinking that may or may not have taken place. I waited about two minutes, then peeked over the back of my seat to make sure she was out of earshot.

  “Uh, Matthew,” I started.

  Matt’s eyebrows shot up. He knew the use of his full Christian name was a precursor to a little drama.

  “Yes, Madison,” he responded in kind.

  I licked my lips and decided it was best to come straight out with it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Did you, uh, I mean, have you and, um, what I’m trying to say is, well, don’t get offended, but—” So much for being direct and to the point.

  “You’re babbling,” Matt drawled.

  I squinted my eyes at him and asked, “Did you and Belinda do the nasty?”

  He folded his arms across his broad chest. The twin eyebrows of doom were at a low level, indicating he’d accepted the drama invite and was ready to get right into it.

  “It’s just that she keeps looking at you,” I mumbled, glancing over the seat again.