Page 147 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

“This way.” Matt held her elbow as she answered the call and led her out the drawing room into the adjoining parlour.

He watched her pace as she spoke to Dante. The pitch of her voice grew more aggravated with each sentence. The world of ballet was not as it seemed. The glamour, the beauty; both hid a dark underbelly only those on the inside knew about. Madi was one of the lucky few to have been graced with a true ballet body, which took little work for her to maintain. She had once confided in him about the constant need to educate her students on the dangers of anorexia. Things had changed a lot over the years and the awareness of this terrible issue was being addressed in most companies. But the higher up you were, the more intense the pressure. The rivalry that sowed seeds of jealousy. The sacrifice that went into constantly striving for perfection on the dance floor. The secret use of drugs to push through pain or maintain weight levels. It was a minefield which he quickly had to wrap his head around. Ballet dancers weren’t just the ethereal beings their movements portrayed; they were top-notched athletes. The main distinction between ballet and other athletic sports was the expectation placed on dancers to hold both aesthetic and performance standards; extreme athleticism with minimal body mass. It was bloody hard work being a ballet dancer.

“I can’t do that to her,” Madi said sharply. “Look, once we know for certain how bad the tear is we can decide. If she does need surgery - just shut up and listen!” She inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Six weeks of physio and she could be back to performing, Dante. I’m not going to drop her from the line-up, not if there’s a chance she’ll be well enough to perform. We still have time until August.”

Matt waited, eyes following her every movement.

“Fuck sakes, Dante, you think I don’t know that? An on-site physio would be great but-”

Matt walked over to her and she mouthed ‘five minutes’ to him then resumed her conversation.

“Fine,” she sighed in frustration. “Come over tonight and we’ll crunch the numbers.”

Matt rubbed his chin slightly. He was hoping they could have an in-depth discussion once they got home. If Dante was coming over it would have to wait. Plus now didn’t seem the ideal time to bring uptheir problems.

“Sorry,” She hung up and flashed him an apologetic look.

He waved her apology away, pulling her into a hug that she eagerly reciprocated. They stood silently, holding on to each other, until a sigh left her lips.

“You’re a drama magnet.” Madi rubbed her face across his chest.

“I beg your pardon?” Matt leaned back, eyes narrowed in response to her quip.

“My life was simple before I met you, hon.” she explained. “Now it’s one thing after the other. The only explanation is you, you entered my life and the drama came right on your heels.”

Matt shook his head, fighting a grin at her impertinence. “You’re blaming me for the drama in your life? Are you certain you want to continue down this path, poppet? Your nonsensical babble usually lands you in trouble.”

She opened her mouth and Matt took the opportunity to steal a kiss, circumventing whatever ridiculous comment she was about to make. Her mouth tasted of strawberries and champagne. The subtle overtures of the alcohol enhanced the sweetness of the fruit, a heady combination that had him craving more as he explored the crevices of her mouth with his tongue. He raised a hand to her head, taking a moment to caress her curls before gripping the back of her head and deepening the kiss. The mewling sounds coming from her increased his desire. He had long grown accustomed to his never ending need for her. She was his drug of choice, and he an unrepentant addict chasing the next glorious high. Grinding his evident arousal against her elicited an almost desperate noise from her lips and the sound of her purse and phone hitting the ground came seconds before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She moved in closer, her hands now slipping into his hair as he licked the corner of her lips.

“In actual fact,” he said throatily. “Trouble follows you around.”

She blinked slowly, mouth parted as she dragged a lungful of air in. Matt smiled. He loved her responsiveness to his touch, took immense pride in knowing she was his to pleasure at will. And he had been a bastard these past few weeks.

The lusty glaze cleared from her eyes as she tilted her head to the side, staring at him. “Your nose is flaring.” She started to grin. “As if you’ve smelt something bad.”

Matt grimaced and her soft laughter filled his ears.

“Well,” she needled. “Go on. That only happens when you want to apologize.”

“You need to have your eyes tested,” Matt said smoothly, bending his head into her mass of riotous curls.

Madi snorted and wriggled about in his arms. He held on for a second before releasing her.

“We’ll talk,” Matt flashed her a smile when her expression abruptly changed at his words.

“Good talk or bad talk?” she asked.

“Just a talk, poppet.” Matt bent down to retrieve her discarded purse and phone.

“George told you, didn’t he?” she fretted, hands wringing together.

Matt arched an eyebrow, remaining silent as she became more flustered. What was she on about?

“It’s only a small scratch,” Madi blurted out. “I swear I didn’t see that bin, Matt. You can’t even see it. I mean, you didn’t notice it either, and the dent is miniscule. It’s just a car.”

“Pardon?” He held out her belongings and he could see the wheels turning behind her eyes.

“Ah, what?” Madi snatched her purse and mobile, avoiding his gaze as if her life depended on it. “Did you hear that? I think someone’s calling us.”

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