Lovers’ Dance, Vol. 2

Chapter 13 #2

“It’s the nature of the beast, Madison , powerful men like him are always a catch, and they enjoy the chase. It makes them feel alive, knowing they can have anything they want, whenever they want. It’s our way of life, of course, you can have your own fun too, darling. Why should they be the only ones to enjoy themselves? Learn to look the other way and when he does divorce you,” Her face had a malicious gleam to it.

“Yes, it will happen; make sure you employ a bloody good solicitor to act in your interests.”

I blinked once.

This was her friendly advice?

To allow infidelity into my marriage?

These people were mad.

I didn’t need this drama.

“I trust Matt.” I said quietly.

“And it’s clear you’re hurt over the fact he married me. You need to move on, Louisa.”

She laughed again, her face expressed true humour this time.

“You trust him? Silly girl! Trust me , someone who has been with him over a period of years, not months. Matthew has an insatiable lust for new things, be they women, experiences or material possessions. I know him and was perfectly willing to allow him his dalliances, you need to adopt the same approach or your stint as Mrs Bradley will be even shorter than you can imagine.”

She was laughing at me.

I exhaled slowly.

“I think the fact you’d entertain the thought of these dalliances says more about you than it does me. I trust Matt, I’m his wife and he loves me. Get over it.”

There were two spots of red forming on her perfect cheekbones.

Someone was getting mad.

I really didn’t want the drama.

“Look,” I would be the bigger person.

“I don’t want to be your enemy. I understand you and Matt share a past, but if you want to be in his future,” My gaze flickered to where Matt stood holding court.

“As a friend, please let this go. Your families are friends, you know the same people, frequent the same places; don’t make it awkward for either one of us. I may be younger than you, but I’m not stupid, and I refuse to get drawn into a war with you. Good grief. You’re mind-bogglingly beautiful, you can have any man you want…just not mine.”

She looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.

What?

Was she expecting me to act all ghetto?

“He isn’t yours though,” she replied in a low voice.

“You think you’ve tamed him but you haven’t. I was his lover for years, and take it from me, he won’t allow himself to be caged. Your marriage is a cage that he’ll eventually yearn to escape. I’ll give you credit, actually getting him to marry you in the first place was no mean feat.” Louisa flicked her golden hair over one shoulder.

“But he’ll tire of you, and it would be remiss of me not to warn you of that; considering we have something in common.”

“We have nothing in common,” I tried not to hiss, but my tone came out sharp anyway.

Louisa smirked.

I hated that frigging smirk of hers.

Her blue eyes slid in Matt’s direction.

“He’s an exceptional lover. The things I’ve experienced in his bed.”

Right.

It was time for me to go.

Nothing quite like having your husband’s ex rub their past relationship in your face.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, Louisa,” I said emptily.

“If you ever want to have a proper conversation let me know. I’m sure we’ll see each other around.” It bugged me, hell, it pissed me off Matt used to boink her.

I couldn’t let it slide.

“By the way, I am a ballerina , my body’s a pretzel, a very limber pretzel.”

We shared nasty smiles with each other.

Yeah, bitch.

Matt was shagging a human slinky now.

Someone called her name.

Two women were coming over to where we stood.

Louisa leaned forward, a picture of friendliness as she gave me an air kiss.

I was too surprised to move.

“Lovely catch up, darling,” she said loudly.

Ah yes, appearances must be maintained.

“Tell Bella we must arrange a lunch date soon.” And she turned to her friends, moving away without a backward glance.

Inside my head I repeated my new mantra: these people would not drive me insane.

I fiddled with my wedding band and engagement ring, twisting them around my finger.

Louisa was a sad, jealous soul; I would not let her get into my head.

Yet I couldn’t help watching Matt’s interaction with the other guests in a different light.

The women did flock to him, and he wore his charming smile that usually melted me down to my toes.

It had the same effect on anyone he bestowed it upon.

I sighed to myself.

Would I ever get used to the way women openly lusted after Matt?

Damn it.

I thought I already was.

Another sigh whispered past my glossy lips and I let my gaze wander around while I waited for Bella to return.

Going to Matt’s side right now held little appeal, he was probably chatting about numbers and profits and boring stuff I didn’t understand.

A group of boisterous party-goers entered the room.

There was one who looked- Dougie!

My mouth widened into a grin as I watched Dougie saunter into the room behind the group.

His head was on swivel, as if searching for someone.

Our eyes locked and he grinned, muttering something to the guy next to him before crossing the large room with a skill I admired.

He dodged glasses, elbows and backs like a pro.

“Hi,” I managed to get out as his arms surrounded me.

“I knew ye’d be here tonight,” Dougie said into my curls as he gave me a tight hug.

“Christ, lassie, ye look stunning.”

“Hi,” I repeated when he stopped squeezing me.

“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were back in London.”

Dougie tweaked my nose.

I swatted his hand away with mock ire.

“You’ll smudge my powder. How are you?” I laughed in delight.

The night had definitely taken a turn for the better.

“Are you gate-crashing?”

Dougie scowled at me, trying for an offended look but he couldn’t keep it up for long.

He chuckled himself and shook his head.

“Karen’s cousin is an old mate of mine. I’ve been coming to Franklin’s parties for a few years now. Complete mayhem these do’s.”

I instinctively glanced upwards.

When I looked back at Dougie his mouth parted in shock and his hazel eyes shone with speculation.

“Have ye been upstairs, my wee wild cat?”

“No.” I said much louder than expected.

A few heads turned in our direction so I lowered my voice.

“I have not been upstairs. Uh, what actually goes on upstairs?”

Dougie tapped his nose as he replied.

“Och lass, I cannae tell ye that. Ye have to go up if ye want to find out. Do ye want me to take ye?”

“Fuck off,” I said tartly, gently punching him on the arm.

“Matt told me not to go upstairs.”

“Aye, he’s right.” Dougie mused.

“And he should know, I’ve heard tales about Bradley and that friend of his.”

I arched an eyebrow at Dougie, about to ask what he meant when I spotted Bella approaching us.

“Where is Bradley?” Dougie drawled.

“He must be stark raving mad to leave ye alone when ye look like Hogmanay in heaven, if there ever was such a thing.”

“Somewhere about,” I replied, searching the crowds for his tall frame.

He was in my sights a moment ago.

Bella arrived at my side.

She assessed Dougie and recognition dawned on her face.

“Dougal, yes?” she asked politely.

Dougie nodded, immediately taking her offered hand and bringing it to his lips.

He winked at me as he kissed the air above her hand.

“I’ll be the envy of every man here tonight,” he teased.

“Standing next to both of ye. I expect at least one dance from each of ye.”

Bella shook her head, an amused smile tickled the edges of her mouth as she asked, “How old are you, young man?”

I snickered at Dougie’s flushed face.

He squinted at me and released Bella’s hand.

“A couple of years older than Madi and she will speak on my behalf I’m sure.”

Bella’s gaze jumped between us.

“Oh, I didn’t think you knew each other that well.”

Dougie flicked imaginary lint off the sleeve of his dinner jacket.

“Quite well, aye Madi?”

I rolled my eyes at Dougie and turned to Bella.

“He’s been a pest in my side since the night of that crazy auction when I outbid him.”

Bella nodded, a small clap of delight came from her hands.

“Yes! That’s right. We had such a lovely time that night.” She slipped her arm through mine and started moving us forward.

“Matt arranged that boat ride on the Thames and the four of us had such fun. Good night, Dougal.” Tossed carelessly over her shoulder as she marched me away.

I glanced back to a perplexed Dougie, shrugging my own shoulders in the process.

Bella had shut the conversation down.

Hard, fast, but so polite.

“What’s up, Bella?” I asked under my breath.

“Nothing,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I just noticed Matt’s face when he saw you and Dougal chatting. He’s coming over here right now actually.”

What?

Where?

My head jerked around looking for my husband.

Ah.

Yes, he was heading in our direction.

“And how close are you to Dougal?” she pressed.

“He doesn’t really run in our inner circle. I keep forgetting you’re younger than us by a few years. Why was he watching you like a buffet? You’re not too close to him, I hope.”

Before a response could be made Matt was upon us.

“Having fun?” I dropped Bella’s arm, stepping into his personal space to kiss him lightly on the lips.

“Yes, why don’t you two ladies join us?” He took my hand in his and offered an arm to Bella.

“Was that McGregor I spotted chatting to you a moment ago?”

“Mhmm,” I confirmed breezily.

Matt didn’t seem annoyed.

Bella must have read his expression incorrectly.

“I’d forgotten he usually attends these parties,” Matt tilted his head, grey eyes scrutinizing me.

“And how is he?”

“Fine, I guess,” I mumbled.

“We didn’t chat for long. Are they serving anything other than those yucky hors d’oeuvres? I still can’t get how you scoffed that caviar down. Eww. Fish eggs, you ate fish eggs.”

Bella burst into musical laughter, throwing her head back and all.

Matt waggled his eyebrows at me.

“Not just any caviar, poppet, it was Almas.”

I snorted and squeezed his hand.

“That name means nothing to me. Fish egg is fish egg, Matt.”

“You should take her to the Caviar House to…

I was stuck on the jealousy.

Hopefully I’d roll on into pity soon.

Everyone was having a good time and I caught glimpses of Dougie with his own friends but they disappeared quite often.

At least they looked like they were having fun.

Suddenly I heard a loud crack, or a boom, and I say I because no one else seemed to notice it.

Ok, maybe I imagined – there it was again!

Another followed in quick succession.

I peeked at Matt.

He was mid-discussion with Franklin about the on-going bad rep investment bankers were tarred with.

I had kept my opinions about that to myself.

I mean, what was Franklin bitching about?

Bankers did deserve the flack they’d been getting, they almost irreparably destroyed the banking system by their risky investments in sub-prime lending a few years ago.

Hell, the UK government had to step in and bail out a few banks, all at a cost to the tax payer.

I jerked as the loud noise happened again.

What the hell was that?

I cast my gaze upwards.

Twice more the sound seem to explode and no one reacted.

Was it coming from upstairs?

It came in a few more short bursts and I realized it was the sound of gunshots.

Gunshots?

No, it couldn’t be.

I glanced at Matt, stepping closer to the safety of his side.

He sent me an absent-minded smile and slipped an arm around my waist before continuing his conversation.

Then it happened again and I was starting to freak.

Why was everyone so placid?

All the other guests seemed fine; laughing, drinking, and generally enjoying themselves.

Was I hearing things?

I was certain it was gunshots.

Once more I looked towards the ceiling.

There was another round of shots and it sounded as if it came from outside not upstairs.

I tried to remain calm, tried to reason with myself.

This was Knightsbridge, a private mansion in Knightsbridge, not an inner-city council estate.

There were no gunshots.

The noise started coming in steady bursts of sound now.

Oh God, oh my God.

Either someone was getting shot upstairs or there were terrorists outside, getting ready to storm inside.

Why was everyone so fucking calm?

They had to hear it too.

“Matt?” I called in a tiny voice, scanning the visible exits.

Were we under siege?

I should check my cell, bring the news up and see if there were riots in this area.

Again and again the noise came and I could feel the sweat beading at the back of my neck under my loose curls.

Sweet Jesus.

What was that noise?

Why wasn’t anyone else reacting to it?

My eyes were stretched wide as I tried to see past the bunch of people by the double doors.

“Madi?” Bella was regarding me closely.

“Are you ok?”

The loud bang that followed her words made me jump this time, my head darted side to side as my hand clutched the edge of Matt’s dinner jacket.

“What is that?” I cried.

“What is that noise?”

Nathan took one look at my terrified face and gestured towards the doors that would take you down a hallway and out back.

“That noise?”

“Yes,” I was gripping Matt now.

“The gunshots, poppet?” Matt asked as if it was unimportant.

Nathan began to smile.

“Gunshots?” I looked around wildly.

I had been right!

“What’s happening? Who’s shooting? Why are we all just standing here?”

Nathan chuckled, exchanging a look with Franklin who was trying his best to maintain a stoic expression.

Karen had a hand over her mouth, but her shoulders were shaking.

The fuck was wrong with these people?

Crazy ass white folks.

“Matt.” I was trembling.

Matt tightened his hold around me.

“There’s nothing to be alarmed about, poppet. Bloody hell, you’re shaking like a leaf. It’s just pigeons. They’re shooting pigeons.”

My mouth fell open for a second.

“At night? Why? Who would shoot birds at night?”

Nathan roared with laughter, literally bent over clutching his stomach and laughed.

“Hush, darling,” Bella choked out, giving me a sympathetic smile as she rapped Nathan across the back.

The others were sniggering and staring at me.

“Poppet,” Matt rasped out, biting his lower lip for a second.

“Ah, you may have misunderstood-”

“What?” I growled, not appreciating Nathan’s behaviour or the others.

“Who the hell shoots birds at night? Pigeons sleep at night. What sort of messed up shit is that? Why would…unless they’re infected? Is it Avian flu? I thought pigeons couldn’t spread it? Have you called the RSPCC?”

“Poppet,” Matt gasped for breath.

Franklin was leaning against his wife, tears leaked from his eyes as he said, “Bird Flu! Christ! Pi-pigeons!”

“Stop,” Nathan wheezed.

“God, make her stop, Matt. I can’t – I just can’t-”

“What the hell is your problem, Nathan?” I was getting mad.

“It’s inhumane to shoot sleeping birds. The RSPCC can sort it out properly. Why are you laughing? Stop laughing.”

“Poppet,” Matt was wheezing now.

I glanced up at him.

His face was red.

I swear if someone didn’t tell me what the hell was going on-

“Clay,” Matt got out.

“Clay pigeons, sweetheart.”

My face fell.

“Clay pigeons? As in the sport? That kind of shooting?”

Bella nodded with lips pressed tightly together.

At least she attempted to keep her laughter at bay.

The others had no problem letting theirs out.

My face burned with embarrassment, and Matt, my own bloody husband was chuckling away.

“It’s not funny,” I said sharply.

“How was I to know we weren’t under attack? These are serious times we live in. It’s not funny, Nathan.”

“No,” Nathan straightened up.

“It’s hilarious. Blimey, Madi. You-” He had another attack of laughter.

His blonde hair was in disarray as Bella smacked his arm.

I glared at Matt.

His shoulders were shaking.

I glared even harder.

“Absolutely adorable,” Karen said dabbing the corner of her eyes.

“She’s adorable, Matthew.”

Louisa, who’d been enjoying my humiliation, observed the way Karen and Franklin grinned at me.

Her humour abruptly disappeared.

Matt bent his head, grabbed my chin and planted a nice big wet one on my lips.

He didn’t care in the slightest everyone was staring at us.

“I love you to bits,” he said, running his index finger down my nose.

It was hard to keep scowling at him after that.

I relaxed against him, inhaling his scent deeply.

Franklin coughed then cleared his throat as he wiped his eyes.

“Definitely a keeper, Matt.”

Matt kept his gaze locked on mine, the amusement in his eyes faded away to leave something pure and real.

And I was helpless to stop myself from falling into the pull of his piercing grey eyes.

“They do that all the time,” Nathan warned.

“Like bloody teenagers. Bella, darling, grab that waiter,” Nathan thumped his chest.

“I need a drink.”

“Let’s go get something suitable for you to eat.” Matt said softly.

I nodded and Matt inclined his head at his friends before leading me away.

“That was embarrassing.” I admitted ten minutes later in a kitchen filled with staff bustling around.

Matt seemed completely at ease here and I wondered how close he was to Franklin and Karen.

He had waltzed up to one of the chefs and demanded a dish of my choosing to be made.

I’d been secretly appalled at his arrogance so asked for a simple sandwich.

When the chef offered fresh salmon, I gagged a bit.

Don’t get me wrong, I love fish, just not salmon.

Too rich for me.

The chef ended up making me a chicken salad, his secondary offer of venison Carpaccio elicited another gag in my throat.

Why did so many people enjoy raw meat?

Matt was watching me chew my food.

I watched him watching me.

We really did make googly eyes at each other quite a lot.

“Are you having fun, poppet?” he asked, moving close enough to rest a hand over my waist.

“It’s ok,” I replied after swallowing, “Um, what goes on upstairs?”

Matt suddenly averted his gaze, pointed out the impressive Aga and asked if we should have both kitchens in the Surrey estate redone.

Hmm.

Avoidance.

My curiosity increased, but I definitely would not be heading up there.

Not now I knew there were also guns on the property.

“Is it,” I glanced around, ensuring we were out of anyone’s earshot.

I realised members of staff for rich people constantly had their ears open.

Matt’s Surrey staff were always lurking around corners.

It freaked me out whenever we stayed there.

“Kinky stuff?”

Matt raised one eyebrow.

I popped some salad in my mouth and waited.

“Are you in the studio tomorrow, poppet?” he queried.

“Adam wants me to meet him at the club for lunch.”

I swallowed quickly.

Ouch.

“Which one? I can slip away for a bit if you want me to tag along.”

Matt shook his head.

“We’re heading to White’s, poppet.”

Oh.

Matt held numerous memberships to exclusive clubs, he’d gotten me memberships at a couple; but White’s was the oldest and most exclusive club in London.

A proper gentleman’s club…

that still wouldn’t allow women to join.

From what Matt told me, the only exception was a visit made by the Queen.

They were getting some flak now though, equal rights and all that jazz.

I chewed my bottom lip and handed him my half-eaten fancy bowl of salad, which he placed on a counter.

“Will I see you at all tomorrow?” I was pouting.

Sue me.

Knowing Adam, he’d keep Matt out for the whole day and night.

“What time are you planning on leaving work?” Matt’s hand was busy.

It had travelled from the curve of my waist to the side of my butt.

Nice.

“I’m not sure, if you’ll be out all day I’ll probably stay late.”

We both sighed unhappily.

Then Matt slipped his hand over my butt cheek, palming it in a very proprietary manner.

“Be home for nine, at the latest,” he ordered before jerking me up against the hard lines of his body.

His grip on my ass got tighter and I could feel the heat of his arousal pressing into me.

It was happening again, the world around us faded away into nothing.

“Bossy,” I whispered, unconsciously angling my mouth into prime snogging position.

Matt’s eyes darkened as I licked my lips.

“Mmm, I am, and I know you enjoy it,” he drawled right before taking a nip at my lips.

I groaned, meant to yelp but it came out as a breathless groan.

What was it with the teeth and me?

Since we’d gotten married I’d been getting extra bity between the sheets, Matt had done this to me.

He had gotten me hooked on his bites and had turned me into a biter too.

“Come on,” I cleared the lust out of my throat.

“We should go socialize.”

Matt held me tighter, reluctant it seemed to relinquish his hold on me, and that hand of his was engaged in some serious ass rubbing.

“When things quieten down for us,” He kissed the juncture where my neck met shoulder.

“We’ll go away for a few days. Just the two of us.”

I liked the sound of that and nodded in agreement.

We left the kitchen and re-joined another group of Matt’s friends.

They were all polite, but there was only so much I could offer to the conversation and when they started talking about the upcoming Royal Ascot in June I tuned them out.

Matt was a tad grouchy, his grumbles of having missed the Clarence House Chase in January and the Ascot Chase in February gave me a new understanding of how much he enjoyed these things.

“Matt,” Nathan waltzed up to us, sans his pregnant wife.

“Up for a spot of,” he smirked in my direction.

“Bird homicide?”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” I retorted while the others attempted to draw him into the group.

Nathan waved them off, giving Matt a look of open challenge.

“Shall we?”

Matt surveyed his best friend clinically.

“Why not? Care to put a wager on?”

Oh, this was interesting.

I stood between them and observed their interaction.

Nathan’s chest puffed out as he nodded in determination.

The others wandered away, leaving the three of us alone.

“You know what I want.” Nathan stuffed one hand in his trouser pocket.

Matt laughed in his face.

“And I’ve told you already, no.”

This was very interesting.

I had to ask.

“What does he want, Matt?”

“Rachel.” they replied in unison.

I blinked a few times.

“Excuse me? Matt’s secretary? You can’t wager a person. That’s…” I gave Matt the weight of my gaze.

“Wrong.”

Matt chucked me under the chin, it felt rather patronizing.

“Yes, wife.” He turned back to Nathan, blatantly ignoring my slight displeasure.

“Choose something else, not that it matters. Your skills are somewhat subpar.”

Nathan’s shoulders stiffened.

He looked pissed.

Was Matt trying to rile him on purpose?

“Subpar?” Nathan cocked his blonde head at my husband.

“Right then. Let’s wager that new vehicle of yours.”

Matt rubbed his chin.

“Done. What are you bringing to the table?”

Say what?

Matt did not just bet his Bugatti.

What on earth was wrong with these men?

“You’ve always admired my Caravaggio,” Nathan’s words trailed off.

A speculative glimmer entered Matt’s eyes.

“Yes.” He turned, grinning at me.

“Would you like a Caravaggio added to our art collection, poppet?”

Nathan scoffed in derision.

“You haven’t won yet, mate, and I’m not planning to lose anyway. Bella loves that painting, it was a gift from my father.” Nathan started to grin.

Matt chuckled and shrugged at his friend.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

I grabbed his arm.

“Can I come too? I’ve only seen clay shooting on tv.”

“Of course,” Nathan answered before Matt could.

“It’s about time you saw Matt taken down a peg or two. He struts around as if he’s king of the manor.”

“Yes,” I nodded in agreement as we started towards the back of the property.

“He does, but I bet he’ll win. I worry about you, Nathan. What sort of bet is this? Matt’s car isn’t worth as much as a Caravaggio. Is this a joke to you? Ha, you’re going to lose and Bella is going to kill you.”

Nathan snorted under his breath then asked, “Care to place a side wager, Madi?”

“No.” Matt said a touch sharply.

“Don’t drag my wife into our games, Nathan.”

Nathan hid his roll of eyes.

I did too.

Why couldn’t I get in on the action?

I could bet my designer shoes.

When we got outside I was impressed by the set up.

There were floodlights stationed around the immense grounds, enabling the shooters to see their targets.

A couple of guests were enjoying themselves as members of staff handled the numerous traps, and it was very loud.

“What’s that, Matt?” I asked, fascinated at the object but hesitating behind Matt.

Guns were dangerous, there were a lot of guns on show.

I’d never seen a real gun this close before.

“An automatic thrower, poppet.” Matt’s tall frame was vibrating with caged energy.

He was definitely up for this, as was Nathan who strode over with purpose to a table laden with shotguns.

“That model holds up to 600 targets,” Matt went on to explain as he urged me forward.

I resisted.

“That chap there uses a remote to release the target and it’s pneumatically operated so the speeds and trajectories can be modified with ease. Would you like my dinner jacket? It’s chilly.”

I glanced at my boobs, only because Matt’s eyes were fixated there.

Yeah, it was a bit chilly, my nipples were poking out against the material of my dress.

“I’m fine.”

Matt was already shrugging off his jacket.

“I’d rather you not get cold.”

Before I could reply he held it out with an expectant frown on his face.

Huh.

Taking the jacket I shook my head and slipped it on.

I was immediately swamped by the size of it.

“Happy?” I mocked my possessive husband.

“Much better.” he shot back.

Nathan was beckoning him over.

Matt tucked my curls behind my ears.

“Stay behind us.”

I nodded and we walked over to the table.

It was always fun observing Matt and Nathan interact.

The way they ribbed each other brought a grin to my face.

Good-natured insults only close friends could make with impunity flew between them.

When Matt picked up a shotgun, my eyes grew wide.

He handled it with confidence, and caution.

I’d seen him and Nathan giving hard stares at a couple of men who had come over to get some guns.

Matt had gently pushed me aside while they geared up and Nathan had commented harshly that the bolts on those types of guns should be drawn back when carrying them.

The two men were put out, mumbling under their breaths until Nathan had point-blank told them to get back inside if they didn’t follow safety protocol.

Under the glare of my husband and his friend, the two men simmered down, sheepishly gathering ammunition and slinking away.

“Tossers,” Nathan said, loud enough for it to reach their retreating backs.

“Indeed,” Matt agreed, deciding on a shotgun.

I was carefully observing the people shooting.

There was a woman handling her business while her companion cheered on.

Dressed to the nines and meticulously blowing the targets to smithereens.

Damn!

I wanted to bust a cap in some clay’s ass too.

See how easy it was to get sucked into this world.

I was picturing myself as a female Rambo, firing shots off like a pro.

“Poppet,” Matt broke me from my fantasy as he tucked some ear plugs in.

Where were mine?

Didn’t I need some too?

He kissed me, fleetingly, and pointed to a spot a ways behind us.

“Stay right there. Ok?”

I nodded.

“Ok?” he repeated again with a warning look on his face.

He’d probably seen me eyeing the woman.

“Yes, yes,” I waved him away.

“Go shoot something.”

Only when I walked over and stood in my allocated spot did he turn around and face off Nathan.

They grinned at each other before heading towards that automatic thrower contraption, jokingly needling each other about their skill sets and who was going to emerge victorious.

I stood clutching my purse to my chest and tried not to wince over the crack of every shot.

It was very loud.

Soon enough I got bored of Matt and Nathan firing shots off.

At first I was impressed, hell, I got kind of turned on the way Matt expertly held the shotgun and blasted some clay pigeons into pieces.

The concentration on his features, the way he held himself as round after round hit its target…

I got turned on.

Men and guns, who knew it could be an aphrodisiac?

I always thought if faced with a man holding a gun I would pee myself before handing over my cash and whatever else I carried while sobbing for my life to be spared.

“Would you like a go?”

I twisted around, surprised to see a strange man standing behind me.

His approach had been silent.

My gaze went back to Matt and Nathan, they were busy competing with each other.

“Um,” I hesitated.

Matt had been serious when ordering me to stand right here.

Did I need a license or something?

A couple of the guests who had passed by me were talking about their shotgun certificates.

I didn’t need one of those, did I?

This was private property.

The tuxedo clad man gestured to a free spot along the edges of the lawn.

“Everyone’s taking a turn at it, you shouldn’t miss out. I’m Greg, by the way.”

“Hi, Greg,” I held a hand up which he shook firmly.

“Madison DuMont-Bradley.”

“Ah, you’re Matthew’s wife.” He nodded slowly.

“I attended Cambridge with him and Nathan.”

I smiled politely.

“So,” Greg drawled.

“Are you up for it?”

I glanced at Matt, he was chortling away; making snarky comments at Nathan in an attempt to throw him off his game.

Nathan kept hitting each target.

Damn.

If Matt lost the Bugatti before I had a chance to take it out for a sneaky spin I would be pissed.

“Uh, I guess,” Boredom had pushed me to say it, plus I still had the Rambo version of myself on the mind.

Greg went to get a shotgun and some ammunition.

Wow.

I was going to do this.

Again I looked over in Matt’s direction.

He was completely focused.

I was sure I’d be back before he noticed I was gone.

And I had been paying attention.

It sucked watching everyone else having fun blasting away while I stood here like a Billy no mates.

Why hadn’t Matt shown me how to shoot?

If I was supposed to fit in he should be showing me these things.

Selfish man.

“Over and Under.” I gestured to the shotgun.

I only knew what it was because Matt had told me, but I didn’t want to risk looking completely ignorant.

“Nice choice.”

Greg murmured his agreement as we headed over to where a staff member stood next to one of the normal devices.

“Here you go,” He held out two ear plugs as I shrugged off Matt’s dinner jacket and put my clutch down.

Once our ear plugs were in, Greg offered me the gun, giving me the first go.

Oo rah!

I was going to shoot something.

I had been watching everyone else and I awkwardly tried to mimic the way they held the shotgun.

It was huge, heavy and cumbersome against my right shoulder.

“Ah,” Greg suddenly looked uncomfortable.

He was regarding me closely, apprehension quickly seeping into his features.

“You have done this before, right?”

“Ready?” the member of staff asked.

“I think so, yes, I’m ready.” I said.

It looked so easy.

I had the gun pointing up towards the night sky, ready to shoot up some clay.

“You have done this before?” Greg looked alarmed when I slipped my finger on the trigger and bit my lower lip in concentration.

This was how Matt had done it.

What had the others been shouting out?

Oh, yes.

In a loud voice I yelled, “Pull.”

The clay pigeon ejected like the missile it was and I narrowed my eyes while pressing down on the trigger.

“Jesus Christ.” someone exclaimed from above.

Above, because I was on my ass, dazed and feeling intense pain.

Oh my fuck.

The member of staff suddenly appeared next to me, carefully taking the shotgun from where it lay haphazardly across my lap.

Greg was bending down, and I felt tears pooling in my eyes.

I dared not turn my head to the right.

Besides the fact my right cheek hurt like a son of a bitch, I was dead certain there had been a back-fire and I had shot my right arm off from the shoulder.

The thought of seeing my mangled arm lying a few feet away made me sick to the stomach.

It hurt.

It fucking hurt.

Why the hell had I done this?

I needed to risk a glance.

Best to face it.

Of course, I would scream hysterically, probably pass out immediately after.

My career, ruined.

My life, unquestionably changed.

This was why guns were dangerous.

Stupid me pretending to belong.

What the hell did I know about clay shooting?

“ Madison ?”

I heard Matt’s terrified shout as I looked at my shoulder.

It was still there, perfectly attached, not a drop of blood.

But God!

The pain.

I blinked, staring at my shoulder and arm.

Maybe I was imagining it whole.

Honestly, this much pain must mean a serious injury.

My brain must still be unable to accept the loss of limb, it must be a figment of my traumatized mind.

There was a flurry of movement and seconds later Matt was at my side, brushing the hair off my face.

“What happened?” Nathan yelled.

“Is it gone?” I asked.

My voice sounded faint.

“I assumed she knew how to shoot.” Greg said.

He was the devil.

Seducing me into a dangerous situation.

“Is it gone?” I asked again.

Matt kept touching my face, touching my neck, touching my shoulders.

I groaned in pain.

He needed to stop touching me.

The pain radiating from my shoulder made everywhere else feel sensitive.

“You imbecile.” Nathan raged.

“Are you blind, Greg? Look at the size of her. That shotgun is far too big for her. You didn’t even use a recoil pad? Bloody fool.”

Matt gently skimmed my right cheek and I winced, even wincing hurt.

His grey eyes were wide with concern as he took my ear plugs out.

“Is my arm gone, Matt?” The pain was making me nauseous.

My eyelids fluttered.

“I can’t dance without my arm.” The tears were about to fall.

“No, poppet,” he said, slowly helping me up.