Page 203 of Lovers' Dance

“Mr Bradley is making a call at the moment. He’ll be with you shortly,” she replied, eyes going towards the back of the plane with the tiniest of smiles.

My own eyes narrowed. Matt would never—I shoved that thought down. He was a gentleman. Having an illicit encounter with his hot staff while I ate breakfast a few feet away was not only in bad taste, but ridiculous.

Belinda had a wistful gleam in her eyes though, as she flashed me an empty smile, then started wheeling the trolley to the rear of Matt’s private plane. I half crawled over the seat Matt had vacated and craned my neck around it. Who the hell could maintain a sexy sway like that when they walked down the aisle on an airplane? I couldn’t, and I was a ballerina. She must be a realistic robot. I turned back to the tray of food left on the table and picked up the yogurt. The eggs Matt could have when he came back. I was counting down in my head. Anything longer than five more minutes, and I would be heading for the back of the plane. I wasn’t jealous, but I wasn’t stupid, either. The way Belinda looked at Matt was too intense for the normal employer/employee relationship. Should I ask him? Maybe not. Saying, “Hon, have you boinked Belinda?” would result in a carefree Matt turning into an offended Matt, who would give me a stern talking to. Before my spoon scraped the bottom of the yogurt tub, Matt was reclaiming his seat next to me. Lucky, lucky man; the five minutes were almost up.

“Is that all you’re having?” Matt frowned at me as he picked up a plate and started dishing up for himself. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

I finished my yogurt and reached for another. Matt slid two of those runny eggs on his plate. Eww. No kisses for him.

“Have some French toast,” he ordered, putting down his plate and grabbing up one for me that he proceeded to heap with toast and salami and—

“Don’t put that half-cooked egg on my plate,” I warned.

Matt slid it back and put cheese on instead before placing the plate in front of me. “Eat up, poppet.”

I opened my second yogurt and ate that up before starting on the plate he’d prepared for me. Only when it was devoid of food did he finally flash me a satisfied smile.

Belinda came to take our plates and the remaining food away. Matt was the recipient of a sidelong, lusty stare which he ignored. To hell with keeping my suspicions to myself. Knowledge was power, and I needed to be knowledgeable about any boinking that may or may not have taken place. I waited about two minutes, then peeked over the back of my seat to make sure she was out of earshot.

“Uh, Matthew,” I started.

Matt’s eyebrows shot up. He knew the use of his full Christian name was a precursor to a little drama.

“Yes, Madison,” he responded in kind.

I licked my lips and decided it was best to come straight out with it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Did you, uh, I mean, have you and, um, what I’m trying to say is, well, don’t get offended, but—” So much for being direct and to the point.

“You’re babbling,” Matt drawled.

I squinted my eyes at him and asked, “Did you and Belinda do the nasty?”

He folded his arms across his broad chest. The twin eyebrows of doom were at a low level, indicating he’d accepted the drama invite and was ready to get right into it.

“It’s just that she keeps looking at you,” I mumbled, glancing over the seat again.

Matt unfolded his arms and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

I gulped. Oh, shit. “Yes.”

“Yes,” he said calmly.

I blinked. “Yes, what? Yes, you tapped that ass or, yes, you’ll answer me honestly.”

Matt sighed, loudly. “Yes to both those questions, and stop glaring at me. It was before we knew each other, and I’ve never professed to being a saint.”

“Skank,” I muttered under my breath.

“There’s no need to call her names—”

“I was referring to you,” I clarified tartly. “Why should that definition only be applicable to women? Did you shag the pilot too, Mr I’m-a-sex-fiend-and-need-to-sink-my-junk-in—”

Matt burst out laughing, trying to grab my hand that I was not willing to let get captured. “Bloody hell, poppet. The things you say.”

I couldn’t help the smile tickling the edges of my mouth. I had the knowledge now, and it was his past. Matt was an experienced lover, he had to have gotten that expertise from somewhere. I hoped I didn’t have to deal with a long line of his previous lovers eager to take my place.

I glanced over the seat. “That’s most unprofessional, Matt. Sleeping with your employees. What would your parents say?”

Matt choked on his laughter, observing me from amused eyes. “She’s signed a non-disclosure contract, and you’re cute when you’re jealous,” he teased, finally managing to nab my hand with his strong one. “But you have no need to be.”

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