Page 133 of Lovers' Dance

I resumed my conversation with Matt, pressing the mute icon. The line was silent. My eyes widened and I pressed the screen again.

“Uh…hello?” I asked.

“Poppet,” Matt started dryly. “You shouldn’t open your door at this time of night, especially if you’re supposedly naked.”

I gulped. “You heard all of that?”

Matt laughed, a deep sultry laugh that made me smile. “I did, and you’ve ruined my fantasy. You’re probably in sweats with your hair all wild and a face mask on.”

I jerked halfway off the couch, peering around my living room suspiciously. “Matthew Bradley, have you installed surveillance cameras in my house? I swear, if I find a hidden camera in here I will sue you for an invasion of my privacy.”

Matt laughed again, this time full of pure amusement. “So American, always with this quest for legal compensation. No, poppet, I have not installed cameras in your living room, although you have me thinking now. Maybe the bedroom so I can watch you—”

“Oh, stop it. Listen, you need to get off your cell and finish whatever it is you’re doing in that office of yours, then go home and get some rest.”

“Mobile, poppet, the word is mobile, and I’m locking my desk as we speak. Is it too late for me to stop by?”

I inhaled sharply, lust exploding inside me like an atom bomb. “Yes, Matt. Go home and get some rest.”

“But I miss you terribly,” he cajoled.

I fought the lust raging through me. Darned thing was threatening to overwhelm me. “We saw each other this morning, and have you forgotten what we got up to last night?”

“Poppet, the memory of what we did is the only thing that got me through today, but you’re right, it is late. Dinner date tomorrow then, no sex this time.”

I fiddled with the edge of my t-shirt. Once again it was an order, not a request. Matt would never change.

“I can’t, Matt. We have all our temporary dancers and will be showing them the choreography from tomorrow. I’ll be at the studio late.”

Matt sighed unhappily down the phone. I could picture the scowl on his face.

“Wednesday, then,” he said firmly.

“Matt.” I kept my tone even. Any uncertainty he would exploit to get his own way. “This is a busy time for me, I doubt I’ll have any free time until late next week.”

There was silence on his end, then a stern, “Madison, I’m not waiting until late next week to see you. Either you pick a day or I will, and itisgoing to be this week.”

When he sounded that strict it was pointless arguing, he always won in the end.

“I’ll see what I can do, Matt,” I said grumpily.

“No, poppet, don’t see, just do,” he warned, then he changed the topic quickly. “How was your lunch meeting?”

“Fine. Hey, I forgot to tell you before, I got a bouquet of roses from your ex. There was a card apologizing for last night. Can you believe that?”

“Really?” Matt didn’t sound as surprised as I expected. “Well, at least she apologized. Forget about her, poppet. I was thinking we should have my parents over for dinner this weekend. We can go to my place in Surrey and they’ll have a proper chance at getting to know you better.”

I mimed shooting myself in the head, then froze, glancing around warily. Had the clock on the mantle place been moved? I was certain its previous position was closer to the edge. It now sat in the middle, aimed perfectly at my living room.

“Uh,” I said getting up and going over to check for surveillance devices in my clock. “Can I get back to you on that?”

“Humph.” He snorted. “I’m walking out my office, poppet. Look, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay, bye,” I said, hefting the clock in one hand. It didn’t feel heavier, then, again, they made tiny surveillance cameras these days.

“Okay, bye?” Matt repeated tartly. “First you walk off without kissing me this morning, now you’re ending the call without a mention of how much you’ll miss me. I’m not amused.”

“You know how I feel about you, Matt,” I said with a touch of sadness.

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