Page 10 of Lovers' Dance

“Ms DuMont, if you would but—”

“Nine.” I pressed the screen. “I’ve pressed the first number, George. You better let me pass or the cops will be here in minutes. Minutes. I’ll tell them you’re keeping me here against my will. You’ll do serious time. Think about it. A man your age—ha—you wouldn’t last a day in prison. And I’m an American citizen. That’s an international mess waiting to happen.”

“Ms DuMont.” George was trying for authoritarian now. “I suggest we go into the kitchen where I can make you a calming cup of tea and we can have a pleasant discussion—”

“First ‘one’, George,” I warned after pressing my screen again. He was acting as if I was the crazy one. “All I have to do is press number one once more and the cops will be here. How are you going to explain this? If you step away from that door right now, I won’t press charges.”

He tilted his head sideways and surveyed me closely, before saying with the barest hint of amusement, “Seeing as we are in the United Kingdom and not the United States, I’d suggest you hang up and re-key 999, Ms DuMont.”

Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten that. I chewed my bottom lip. “Thanks for the reminder, but don’t think I won’t do it if you continue to hinder my escape from this madhouse.”

“I will call you a taxi if I must, Ms DuMont,” he cajoled, his whole demeanour changing into a ‘hail well met fellow’ sort of vibe. “But what would you have me tell Mr Bradley about your departure? I fear he would be most disappointed in me for failing to ensure you were here when he returns. I’ve worked for the Bradley family all my life and never once failed to carry out my duties,”

Oh my God.He was trying to play me.

“So, it would be a great help to me if you would but return upstairs while I procure proper clothing for you and you await Mr Bradley’s return.”

I knew he was trying to manipulate me, but on the off chance Matt did get angry with him…

“Do you have a pen and paper I can use?” I asked nicely. George didn’t look like he trusted me not to escape as soon as he went looking for pen and paper. Then, he beamed at me.

“Of course, Ms DuMont, right here.” He skipped—it looked exactly like a triumphant skip—over to the table in the hallway where he opened a drawer. “Pen and paper as per your request.” He rested a pad of lovely stationery and pen on top of the table, with him between me and the door.

“George, here’s the deal. I’m going to write Matt a nice, long letter, stating that you are in no way, shape or form responsible for my leaving before he returns. I do have to get to work.” I ended on a pleading note.

George glanced at me from head to toe. “Then I shall call you a cab at once, Ms DuMont.”

“Thank you, George. You’re a nice man after all, and I don’t really think you’re a century old.” I flashed him my brightest smile and he looked startled for a second, then a small smile spread across his face.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms DuMont,” he said quietly. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him. His face seemed sincere, so I accepted it for what it was and picked my shoes back up before heading to the table and writing Matt a brief letter thanking him for rescuing me last night, apologizing for putting him in an uncomfortable position by practically forcing myself on him, and mainly for taking care of me when he didn’t have to. I felt horrible for leaving without seeing him, but I couldn’t bear facing him. Not after everything that had happened. I folded the letter, put lipstick on and left a perfect imprint of my lips over the two edges. A kiss goodbye for my unexpected knight. I propped the letter up on the table, kissy-side up.

“Your taxi is here, Ms DuMont.” George was as quiet as a church mouse. I hadn’t heard him approaching. He swept past me to open the door and inclined his head in my direction.

“Goodbye, George. Sorry about the mess and the drama at the door.” I grinned at him as I walked out of Matt’s place, heels in hand and purse tucked tightly under my arm. “Just think, every time you walk towards this door, you’ll remember me.”

George’s lips compressed in a thin line. Was he trying not to laugh or annoyed at my lack of class in his eyes?

“Ms DuMont,” he said in a strict tone that matched the sternness on his face. “I sincerely doubt I’ll ever be able to forget you.”

I waved, then hurried down the stairs to my waiting taxi. I was going to chalk this up to life’s experience. When I got home I would freak out over how close I’d come to being killed in a back alley Croydon-side.

THREE

MATT PULLED UP outside his Kensington home and eagerly alighted from his car. It was gone one in the afternoon, and he hoped Madi was still curled up in his bed where he’d left her early this morning. His morning had been a busy, filled with board meetings and a complete chore, not to mention uncomfortable due to the raging hard on he’d been sporting throughout. The thought of her sexy, lithe body under his had been forefront in his mind; in fact, it had been the only thing on his mind. Some of the board members had commented on his obvious distraction at the last meeting and, when he’d ordered his secretary to cancel his afternoon meetings, she had looked at him in alarm before asking if he was unwell. Matt was a workaholic, it was a well-known fact, but he played hard, too. He was going to enjoy showing Madison DuMont how much fun he could be between the sheets. He jogged up the steps to his front door, a grin on his face as he swapped his briefcase over in order to open up.

“Good day, sir.” George greeted him with his usual unruffled calm, coming into the foyer to take his briefcase.

“Hello, George.” Matt started tugging on his tie. “Is she awake yet?” Matt had advised George on his return early this morning about their unexpected house guest. George, accustomed to Matt’s hectic love life, had asked whether to have Matt’s driver take the lady home or to call public transportation. When Matt had said neither, George had fallen silent for a few minutes before querying as to what did Matt expect of him. George had known Matt since he was a baby, had worked for his family for as long as he could remember. The usual routine when it came to Matt’s conquests was to ensure they were long gone before he returned home. The strange request to make sure she ate and to let her rest until Matt returned had George feeling uneasy. Who was this unknown woman capable of changing a longstanding ritual when it came to his employer? George had met her and, because he was very fond of the young man in front of him, it was a fatherly, but stern, voice in which he replied, “She was awake when she left this morning, sir.”

“What?” Matt turned to his live-in butler. He didn’t view George as a butler, more like family, but that was his official title. “What do you mean she left? What did you say to her?”

George was taken aback by Matt’s anger. Gone was his usual aloof reserve, replaced by a cold fury filling his face. George felt more unease at his employer’s strange behaviour.

“Nothing, sir.”

“Nothing. Then why the hell did she leave?” Matt exploded, not wanting to believe his dark beauty had left without saying goodbye. Not after spending the past few hours craving the taste of her on his lips. Not after everything that had occurred between them from the moment they’d first met.

George clasped his hands behind his back, posture military straight, and observed Matt’s demeanour as he began to stalk towards him.

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