Page 104 of Lovers' Dance

“But I need to deal with unexpected developments today.”

I didn’t want to complain, that was nagging. Oh crap. I had a boyfriend. Was I supposed to nag to show how much I cared? I needed to talk to someone about the rules of relationships. If Aunt Cleo didn’t think Matt was a white pervert using her niece for unholy sex, I would’ve called her.

“Okay, Matt. I get how busy you are.”

Matt smiled, leaned forward and ordered his driver to take me back to Greenwich once he’d been dropped off in Central London.

I snuggled up to him and he swung an arm around my shoulders.

“The function starts at seven. I’ll come pick you up for six tomorrow,” he advised. I nodded and chewed my bottom lip. Matt cleared his throat awkwardly and I turned to look at him.

“The press will be there, poppet—”

“I’m not going,” I interrupted at once. “Sorry, but I just remembered I have this thing at the studio. It’s important and I can’t believe I forgot about it.”

“No, you don’t.” Matt had on his ‘older and wiser’ expression. “And never lie to me, Madison. Not even as a joke. I won’t tolerate it.”

I was taken aback by the undercurrent of steel in his voice.Was he for real?He’d done a frigging background check on me and failed to mention it. That was a lie by omission.

“Fine. I’ll stop joking, but I don’t want to go. I’m not going, Matt.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve bought a dress—”

He did have a point there. It was a very expensive dress...

“—and I can’t show up without a date. People would talk.”

That was not helping his case. I was his generic plus one?Should I punch him again?

“I have to attend, and I’m not going without you. So, yes, Madi, you’re going.”

I had one card I could play. It was a good card. “The last time you made me do something, it didn’t turn out well for you, did it?”

An array of emotions flowed across Matt’s handsome face. It finally settled on begrudging embarrassment.

“Please?” he asked, and my stupid heart went pitter-patter at the look in his eyes. I ignored the mushiness and tried to master that superior look he usually wore. I owned that shit.

Ha! I had the upper hand. The great Matthew Bradley supplicant to badass Madison DuMont. I tried to remind myself gloating was not a ladylike trait, but it bubbled inside me.

This was an opportunity that should not be wasted. I leaned over to whisper in his ear, “I’ll go on one condition.” I nipped his earlobe lightly and he let out a soft groan. “After the ball, we go back to mine, or yours. I don’t really care where.” My tongue traced his outer ear and another husky groan fell from his lips. “And get buck wild between the sheets.”

Matt jerked away and frowned at me. His face was flushed and his breathing a bit raspy. Yeah, he knew how this was going down. Check to the fucking mate,mate.

Matt cleared his throat again, running a hand across his chin as he scrutinized my triumphant face. “Ah, I see.”

“Yep, I bet you do.” I grinned smugly. This was good. I felt good. Tomorrow, after the ball, I’d feel even better. Soul-shattering orgasm, here I come.

“Have you considered what the gossip sheets would print when I turn up with someone else on my arm?” he drawled.

“Wha—I’m sorry, what?”

“Of course,” he continued in a smooth voice, “they’ll wonder why a mere week after being photographed with you in Venice, another woman is at my side.”

“Wait a second,” I spluttered.

“They’re like blood hounds, the media. They’ll camp out in front of your studio barraging you and anyone else around about our relationship.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I said with false bravado. How had he turned the tables on me?

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