Page 130 of Lovers' Dance

Matt grimaced and leaned back in his chair. “Hello, Louisa. Before we exchange insincere pleasantries, I would like you to explain yourself. Once you’ve done so, I might be willing to consider the apology that you will be making.”

There was a pause on her end and Matt waited impatiently. There were different ways to go about this conversation, but he wanted to get straight to the point.

“Darling, it was an—”

“Accident?” Matt drawled. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

She sighed loudly, then said in a plaintive tone. “All right, I’ll admit it may have been intentional but, darling, I lost my head seeing her with you. Matt, why are you doing this? I thought at your parents’ dinner party we were—”

“Louisa,” Matt interrupted coldly. “What happened that night meant nothing. I’m only going to say this once: Madison DuMont and I are in a committed relationship. I will not tolerate any more of this behaviour. We were lovers, Louisa. Pay attention to what I said: we were lovers. Our past relationship is over and, if you want to maintain any semblance of a friendship between us, I suggest you stop acting like a scorned ex and show some bloody dignity and good breeding.”

A sharp intake of breath was her first response, before she sniffed delicately. Matt rolled his eyes. He was used to Louisa’s manipulations. They had never worked on him in the past and they weren’t going to work now.

“Do we have an understanding?” Matt asked brusquely.

“Yes, darling,” she murmured remorsefully. “I’m sorry for my unseemly behaviour last night. I don’t want this to destroy our special friendship. You know how close our families are.”

Matt snorted in derision at her obvious reminder of their longstanding links.

Louisa continued in her remorseful voice. “Would you like me to personally apologize to Madison? I’m more than willing to pay for her ruined dress. It can’t have cost much anyway.”

Matt had to stifle his anger. “Are you still half-asleep, Louisa? Do you think these little barbed comments of yours will encourage me to maintain a friendship with you? Listen to me very carefully. The next time you see Madison, and trust me there will be a next time, I’ll expect you to be unfailingly polite. If you do anything to hurt her,” Matt paused, then his voice dropped in a menacing threat. “I will do everything in my power to make you regret it. Do you understand me?”

“Matthew,” she exclaimed, her shock apparent. “How can you say such things to me? We’ve known each other for so long—”

“Do you understand me?” Matt asked. He wanted things to be clear between them, so on the off-chance Louisa allowed her scheming nature to get the better of her, she would have no one but herself to blame. If she did anything to his woman, Matt would make her pay.

“Yes,” she agreed in a small, hurt voice. “I understand.”

“Good,” Matt said. “Now when I end this conversation, you will call the most expensive florist you know and order the biggest bouquet of white roses known to man. Dictate a heartfelt apology for the card and have it sent to Madison’s place of work. Rachel will give you the address.”

“Matt, can we talk about us for a moment?” she begged.

“Make sure it’s done before the close of business today, Louisa. I’m putting you back through to Rachel. Goodbye.”

“Matt—”

He pressed the internal button and his secretary picked up immediately.

“Rachel, please give Ms Gilliford the work address of Ms DuMont, and don’t forget to call the contractors.”

“Yes, Mr Bradley.”

Matt hung up the call and scowled at the folders on his desk, his previous good mood gone, chased away by conversing with Louisa. It would be tricky maintaining the status quo between their families. He couldn’t completely shun her, that would be impolite and crass. But she’d been warned. Matt was a man who only gave one warning, any further incidents would result in severe consequences.

Thinking about consequences had Matt reaching for the handset. He needed to speak to the private investigator he’d hired months ago to monitor the shady situation surrounding Kincaid. It killed him inside, not being able to talk to Madi about the potentially dangerous situation she had unknowingly linked herself to. But telling her was inconceivable. Plus, if Kincaid was committing the crimes the Serious Organised Crime Agency suspected…Matt shook his head slightly in annoyance. The National Crime Agency was now the responsible body, SOCA no longer existed. If Kincaid was indeed guilty and he’d involved an innocent Madi in his crimes, Matt was walking a fine line following up his personal investigation. Tipping off was a crime punishable by a fine or five years imprisonment. Or both. The Proceeds of Crime Act was clear on that. And there was also the additional worrying crime of failure to disclose, which too carried a fine or five year sentence. Matt grunted in frustration as he punched out the telephone number. He paid this particular investigator exorbitant amounts of money for work required. Confidentiality with the man was second to none, and Matt knew he was safe on that end. Speaking to Madi about Kincaid though was a different thing. He had to be careful in what he said to her. The thought of her meeting that man for lunch made his head hurt. He couldn’t discuss anything with her, for fear of putting her in a situation where she might unknowingly reveal to Kincaid what was happening. If that occurred, his poppet might herself be found guilty of tipping off Kincaid and face a fine or imprisonment. Or both, goddamn it. The duplicitous feelings he felt whenever pondering this situation swamped him. This morning over breakfast he’d chastised her for keeping secrets. Yet, here he was hiding something from her which had serious potential ramifications. A low growl of frustration slipped past his lips. Matt pushed his guilt aside. He kept this secret for her own good. Telling her would gain them nothing.

When his investigator finally answered the call, Matt was his cool, collected self. There was no new update, and he assured Matt he would call him if that changed at any time. The phone on his desk rang loudly. A quick glance confirmed it was his secretary.

“Yes, Rachel?”

“Mr Walthamstow’s secretary called on his behalf to enquire what time you’ll be in, Mr Bradley. Shall I notify him that you’re on the premises?”

Matt grinned, remembering Nathan’s face when he’d blurted out his intentions to wed Bella. His friend had never looked so flustered and unsure of himself.

“Yes, tell him to come by my office, and find out from my brother if there are any movements on the refineries in Egypt.”

“Of course, Mr Bradley.”

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