Page 140 of Lovers' Dance

I leaned back, eyes narrowed warily. Matt had that mushy look on his face and my heart went into overdrive.

“I would try my best to leave you out of it.” I glanced over at the group. “You and Bella. Nathan’s getting told on.”

Matt straightened up and an aloof mask slid over his face as he slipped his large hand over mine. The group of people were in front of us.

“Matt Bradley.” A tall, thin man dressed in tweed—seriously, tweed—held a hand out as his eyes travelled over me. “Glad you could make it tonight.”

“Richard.” Matt pumped the man’s hand up and down a few times. “I wouldn’t miss any of your auction nights. This is my date, Madison DuMont.”

Richard, tweedy Richard, turned to me and held his hand out. I shook his unnaturally soft hand with a distracted smile on my face.

Date?I was just a date?Why hadn’t Matt introduce me as his girlfriend?

“Charmed,” Richard said as I dropped his hand. He motioned to Matt and stepped closer to my date. What was that about? Had I been demoted for tonight? Matt and his stupid dating rules. The man made no sense, no sense at all.

“I’ve managed to find the items you were interested in, Matt.”

Matt arched an eyebrow at Richard. His thumb had begun a slow caress over the skin on my hand. Nice.

“And instead of arranging a private sale for me, you decided to put it up for auction?” Matt’s arched eyebrow indicated annoyance, but his tone was amused.

Richard must have heard the amusement in Matt’s voice, and he must have known him well, because he shrugged with a devilish look on his face and said, “Not me, personally, but the seller.”

Matt didn’t laugh, even though I knew he wanted to. I knew him pretty well.But why was I only a date?Maybe I didn’t know the inner workings of Matt’s mind as well as I thought I did.

“Ah, of course,” Matt agreed with a smirk. “The fault lies with the seller.”

Richard nodded, a deadpan expression on his features, but his eyes screamed slyness. “The best price is being sought, Matt, and you are well-known for your impressive negotiation skills. If the seller knew you were interested, I’m sure no matter what figure was agreed for the item, they would’ve felt as if you got one over on them.”

“True,” Matt mused, eyes scanning the crowds, while I fidgeted by his side. I should’ve wrapped bandages around my toes. Throbbing with pain was a good explanation of what was currently taking place in my heels.

“Looks like things are about to kick off.” Matt tilted his head at me. “Shall we find seats?”

“Yes, we shall.” I nodded arrogantly, as if the decision laid with me. Hell, I was only along for the ride. This was Matt’s world, not mine, but a girl has to maintain certain impressions. We women were in charge. Our men, willingly submissive to our needs and wants. And that’s not a black thing, it’s a woman thing.

Matt directed that arched eyebrow at me. He’d picked up on my tone of voice. Uh oh. I hoped that well-defined eyebrow of his went back to its normal position, otherwise, I would be in for a reprimand. So much for being in charge, I mocked myself.

Richard and his group of followers started to move along the platform, like everyone else. Nathan and Bella came back to fall into step with us. Matt’s thumb was caressing the skin of my hand. I was certain he did it on purpose. Seductive little touches that made me tingle and left me wanting more. The man was driving me insane. As we got closer to the seating area, a woman dressed in a tuxedo handed out bidding paddles. I didn’t take one. What was the point?

There were about fifty guests, if my rough estimation was on point, chattering excitedly as they took their seats. Matt led us to the front row. I didn’t want to sit in the front and was conscious of the slits in my dress that flashed glimpses of my legs as I walked. I didn’t have time to worry about the backless style. I was worried about my nipples poking out. Matt’s touch was lethal, even if we were just holding hands.

“Excited, poppet?” Matt murmured as Nathan and Bella moved to take the seats next to us.

Matt and I sat down. He slung an arm over the back off my chair and resumed his sensual stroking. My shoulder was now being electrified.

“A bit,” I murmured, then fell silent as Richard and his tweed outfit took to the structurally sound constructed stage. How on earth had they remodelled inside here? It was the tube, for crying out loud, not some fancy auditorium. What had they done with the old tracks? Who owned this place? If I hadn’t promised Matt to keep the location secret, I would’ve written a sternly worded letter to Transport for London.

Richard welcomed everyone, then started talking about tonight’s event, and yada yada yada… I tried not to let my curiosity win out and kept my head facing forward. I wanted to turn in my seat and check out the other people who came here tonight.

In no time at all, there were people on stage bringing out the first item up for auction. A beautiful painting by Chagall. I had a thing with art when I was younger. I knew a thing or two.

I tugged on the arm of Matt’s jacket, and he leaned down so I could whisper in his ear, “It better not be stolen, Matt.”

He shushed me and the bidding began. Richard wasn’t the one conducting the auction. A young, ash-blonde man with bushy eyebrows and a tweed jacket—what was up with the tweed?—was tonight’s auctioneer. He was good at it. I was swept along with the crowd as the bids kept getting higher and higher for the painting. Oh, crap. This was exciting.

When the auctioneer finally brought his hammer down, I exhaled breathlessly, practically quivering in my seat as I spun around to catch a glimpse of the successful bidder. It was over. Ten minutes of frenzied bidding and an unmentionable monetary figure pledged. It was over, and I wanted to witness more of this madness.

Matt was watching me intently. His grey eyes caught mine and I grinned widely at him, unable to hide my exhilaration.

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