Page 129 of Lovers' Dance

“I know, but we can’t afford it right now,” he replied in frustration, rubbing a hand over his face.

I blinked slowly, marvelling at the smooth, dark contours of his features. Eye candy, Dante was definitely eye candy. Matt, though, he went beyond candy status. He was dynamite. I shook my head to clear it and sat down behind the desk.

“Right, D, time to start work. Today is going to be a productive day,” I said with surety.

Dante gave me a lack-lustre grin, eyes dropping to my chest area. A worried expression crossed his face, gone in seconds. He widened his smile and sauntered over, pulling out a chair and scooting next to me.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, sweet cheeks. It’s not even seven thirty yet.”

“Today is going to be a good day, D. I’ve got three and a half weeks until my birthday. Every day until then is going to be a good day.”

“You’ll get through it, and I’ll be right there with you,” he murmured, squeezing my hand with his before dropping it.

Three and a half weeks. I needed a plan to keep Matt away. Hell, I needed divine intervention…

FOURTEEN

MATT DROVE AWAY from Madi’s building, resisting the urge to flip off the people taking snaps of him through the windscreen. At least the other windows were tinted. Wankers, every single one of them. Matt shoved thoughts of the media aside to ponder her behaviour this morning. He knew something was bothering her. She’d been unconsciously scratching her pinkie finger over breakfast. Matt disliked what that little action signified, but he was strangely grateful she did it. That involuntary mannerism of hers made him aware when she was feeling stressed.

And something was stressing her. He didn’t know what, as yet…Matt planned to get to the bottom of her worry. A tiny smile battled with the frown on his lips. Last night had been amazing. He had tried to resist the urge to make love to her, but when he’d encountered Dante over at her house, the primal male part of him had demanded something be done about it. The only thing to satisfy his caveman tendencies was to thoroughly dominate every single inch of her sexy body. He claimed what was his and no one else’s.

Dante Palmer. The little git had keys to his poppet’s house. Bollocks to that. If Madi didn’t have those spare keys the next time he saw her, he would get them off Dante himself.

Matt checked the rear view mirror and, sure enough, the van was following him. A loud sigh fell from him. He was never fond of the media. Now with Madi in his life, he completely despised them. He turned his thoughts to the day ahead. He needed Rachel to call the contractors for the work he wanted done to his Kensington home, and he needed George to make sure the furniture from the back rooms was moved and stored properly, at least until he figured out what he was going to do with it. Madi was going to love her birthday present. Matt chewed his lower lip pensively, hating the new feeling of anxious insecurity that he only experienced with her. He was intending to hold a private birthday party for her. It was partly for selfish reasons, also. He wanted to introduce her to his main group of friends, and a birthday party was the perfect guise to do so. Everyone would have to be pleasant to the guest of honour. Making her feel accepted in his world was the first step in his plan to eventually having her as his wife. A wide grin split his face as he hit a bit of traffic. Bloody hell. He wanted to marry her.

“Completely mental,” he murmured to himself, but the thought of slipping a ring on her slender finger filled him with so much emotion it felt almost unbearable. Fantasizing about their future wedding brought another worry to the forefront of his mind. Her parents who wouldn’t be there. Jesus. The anniversary of their deaths was two days after her birthday. How did she deal with it? Matt tapped the steering wheel and eyed the slow moving cars in front of him. She had only spoken of her parents on two occasions since they started seeing each other; the night they became lovers and that night in his car when they’d returned from Venice. Both times she tried to brush past the topic. Matt sighed and analysed the situation. It was almost twenty-one years since their deaths. She would have come to terms with it by now. It was extremely tragic, but his poppet was strong. She would be fine. Matt chewed his lower lip. He would take the day off in case she needed him.

By the time he pulled into the underground parking facilities at his family’s business, Matt was in a relatively good mood despite having to fight his way through Central London’s early morning traffic. The most pressing issue needing to be dealt with today was his ex. When he entered the building via the rear employee entrance, the security on staff waved in greeting. Matt, never one to interact with the lower level staff, found himself smiling in response. Rachel was at her desk when he strode down the hallway leading to his office.

“Morning, Mr Bradley,” she chirped, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Matt arched an eyebrow at her. “Rachel, how is it you’re always here before I am? It doesn’t matter the time I come in, you’re at that desk.”

She smiled briefly before turning her attention back to the screen in front of her. “I anticipate your needs, Mr Bradley. Executive secretaries like myself are always prepared. On that note, I’ve rescheduled your morning meetings after getting your email last night. The one where you said you’ll be in later today,”

Matt fought a smile. He could hear the undertone of annoyance in her voice. Rachel was a gem. Without her, he doubted his working day would run as smoothly.

“I can rearrange your morning to facilitate these meetings if you want, Mr Bradley.”

Matt rubbed his chin slowly. A meeting filled morning? No, he had more pressing matters.

“No, Rachel,” he replied. “Contact Louisa Gilliford immediately and put the call through to my phone. Then I want you to call the building contractors I normally use. There’s some work I need done on my Kensington property.”

Rachel’s head jerked up. “Of course, Mr Bradley.” She started reaching for the phone on her desk.

Matt nodded and walked into his office. He had time to sit at his desk and turn on the computer before his phone rang. Stifling his instant anger, he picked up the handset.

“Mr Bradley, I’m putting her through now,” Rachel advised.

“Good.”

“I’ve also rescheduled your first meeting in the next hour.”

“Rachel.” Matt groaned.

“Putting the call through now, Mr Bradley.” She hurried over her words and, before Matt could say anything, he heard a click.

“Matt?” Louisa’s husky voice sounded down the line.

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