Page 199 of Lovers' Dance

“And you don’t?” he shot back with a teasing glint in his piercing eyes.

“It’s different,” I said quietly, and he snorted under his breath. I could already see it: Matt on some hospital bed, hooked up to machines. “I don’t want you to have a stroke,” I blurted out, then looked away immediately. A few charged seconds followed my outburst before Matt started chuckling. I twisted my head back to glare at him.

“It’s not funny.”

He laughed harder.

“Stop laughing at me. I’m worried about you and all you can do is laugh. You’re so immature.”

He fell back against the pillows, clutching his washboard stomach, and his deep laughter continued to fill the room, while I steadied the tray to avoid a mess. After another five minutes of him laughing his ass off and me fuming, he took a few deep breaths and rubbed his eyes.

“Oh, poppet. I do love you so,” he choked out. “I’m not going to have a stroke.”

I gave him a sceptical stare and his mouth quivered.

“I promise not to have a stroke for at least twenty years,” he assured me with a wink. “By then, you’ll probably be glad to get rid of me.”

I huffed at him, secretly pleased he thought we would be together in twenty years and, at the same time, worried he was working himself into an early grave. I couldn’t imagine my life without my crazy gazillionaire.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” I warned, before picking up a croissant and nibbling the edge. Matt’s eyes zoned in on my lips, and I knew from the gleam in them he was thinking naughty things.

He rubbed his chin, then rubbed it a bit harder with an irritated expression on his features. My new, rugged Matt wouldn’t last the day. I was certain the moment I left for work he would shave it off.

“Are we okay?” he asked abruptly.

I stopped chewing and swallowed, unsure of what he was referring to. Matt saw the confusion on my face and gave me a twisted smile.

“We’ve not discussed last Tuesday,” he said.

The Skype tiff. I shrugged my shoulders, forcing a lightness to my voice that I didn’t feel. “We’re fine, Matt. Forget about it.”

Matt scrutinized my face for a full minute. It felt like the longest minute of my life. I resented when he did this. Resented it immensely because he always seemed to figure out exactly how I felt. I couldn’t win against this calculating stare of his. If I broke the shared gaze, he would know something was up. If I held his gaze, like I was doing now, he would still know something was up.

I couldn’t win.

“Don’t do that,” he said softly. “No secrets. Remember? Let’s clear the air over what happened.”

Damned mind reader. I sighed and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“Honestly?”

Matt nodded at my question.

I pulled my knees up and rested my arms over them. “I was annoyed, Matt. Really annoyed but, like I told you, if you don’t want me speaking to Dougie,” I narrowed my eyes at him, “who, by the way, is a nice person, I won’t do it.”

“I’m glad we’re now in agreement,” he said with a forgiving smile.

My blood started to boil. This was why I had pushed our heated argument to the back of my mind. Now he was looking at me like that. Like some great lord who had granted clemency to a misbehaving subject.

“Are you?” I asked casually. “You’re glad?”

Matt nodded slowly, eyes searching my face. He chewed his lower lip and sat up a bit straighter. Obviously he’d picked up on the simmering vibes I was giving off, and he was getting ready, going into battle mode. He was an ace at reading me.

“Poppet,” he began, but I held a hand up, silencing him.

“Matt.” I took a deep breath. “Have you realized that bar Nathan and Bella, none of your friends truly have any interest in getting to know me?”

---