Chapter 6 #3
He assessed my face closely then gave me a curt nod.
“Right then. Make sure you have everything. I need to speak to the captain.”
I smiled again as he gave me a fleeting kiss before leaving the room.
A sigh left my lips while I stared at the rumpled sheets on the bed.
At least it was still in one piece, there had been instances when I thought the bed would break under our heated lovemaking.
A shiver of inappropriate desire went through me and I averted my gaze from the bed.
Married.
Good grief.
Had I lost my mind?
What if-
“Stop it.” I muttered to myself and began to wander around the room, checking to make sure I had indeed packed all my stuff.
A passing glance in the mirror confirmed my hair was a hot mess.
Damn.
Running out of leave-in conditioner half-way into our trip had not done my ends any favours.
Why was my gut twisting this way?
Maybe it was the fear of the media.
I dreaded the thought of what they would print once they found out.
Had they found out already?
Oh God!
What if that psycho resumed sending me malicious emails?
It had stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
Those emails had secretly made me afraid, but outwardly I had given the impression of nonchalance to Dante.
Then they had just stopped coming right after the New Year.
I pushed that to the back of my mind and attempted to run worst case scenarios in my head.
Ok, if the paps were waiting for us I would just have to deal.
How bad could the headlines in those gossip sheets be?
I peered at my hair again in the mirror and shuddered.
Jungle hair for jungle girl .
Shit!
Eccentric tycoon unable to tame wild bride .
Oh shit.
Bradley weds -
I stopped imagining the headlines and rifled through my bag until I found a brush.
Ten minutes of vigorous brushing and my hair looked even worse.
I hurried to the bathroom, wetting my hair before trying to arrange my curls.
Eventually I held my head under the tap and drenched it into submission.
After blotting out the excess water I pulled it up into a high ponytail, a few curls escaped as I heard movement back in the room.
“Madi?”
“Be right there, hon.” I called and grabbed my brush.
I stared at my reflection, stuck my tongue out while making an ugly face, before plastering a tight smile in place.
When I walked into the room Matt was overseeing the removal of our bags.
He glanced at me, eyebrows arched at my change in hairstyle, then beckoned me over.
“Let’s go,” Matt held a hand out to me.
“The car’s waiting.”
I picked up my handbag, quickly shoving the brush in and took his hand.
“Are the press out there, Matt?”
Understanding dawned on his face and he gave me a sweet smile.
“No, poppet.” A gentle squeeze of his hand on mine as we headed for the door.
“The news of our marriage was leaked while we were on our honeymoon, but Nathan’s father used his contacts to keep the media frenzy to a minimum. I don’t want you worrying about that. Ok?”
I nodded and returned the squeeze.
Matt brought my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss across my knuckles.
Saying goodbye to the crew was not something Matt had planned to do.
Trying and failing to hide his impatience, he tapped his foot while I hugged everyone then hurried me off his yacht to the waiting car.
“Home please, Dan.”
“Right away, Mr Bradley.”
The drive to Matt’s home…
our home, was very quiet.
I stared out the window at the dark sky.
It was only the 2nd of February and it still got dark early.
Matt placed his left hand on my thigh while his attention went to his phone in his right hand.
The wedding band on his finger matched mine.
My gaze jumped from his hand to his side profile, taking in the lines of his face.
Sometimes I felt like pinching myself, he truly was stunning.
I studied him under my lashes, curious about the tiny smile curling up the corners of his mouth as he fiddled with his cell.
Must be an amusing text, or something.
Once again my eyes fell to his wedding ring.
What sort of husband would he be?
Matt had been a great boyfriend, a supportive fiancé.
That wouldn’t change now we were married.
At least I hoped not.
There were still some traits of his that drove me up the wall.
I chewed my lower lip in contemplation.
He could probably say the same about me.
Crap.
Would I be a good wife?
I had faded memories of the way my dad used to look at mom.
The way they used to look at each other.
I wanted that for Matt and me.
Aunt Cleo, she was a great wife.
Uncle David loved her completely.
He would always tell us that she was his angel and without her he would be a shadow of himself.
Could I be a good wife?
A slight increase of pressure on my thigh from Matt’s hand had me tearing my gaze from his ring to his eyes.
It seemed he’d been watching me too.
“Smile for me.” he ordered softly.
I did and he leaned over to kiss the tip of my nose.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Did we do the right thing?” I asked, needing reassurance, like a chicken shit punk.
The hell was wrong with me?
It was done, I had to live with this now.
“Am I a man that makes mistakes, Mrs Bradley?” Matt queried without a trace of teasing.
He massaged my leg through the material of my jeans.
“Everyone makes mistakes, Matt.” I replied.
“And it’s Mrs DuMont-Bradley.”
“True,” he agreed as his hand inched higher.
“But we haven’t.”
“How can you be so certain?” I pressed.
Matt sighed before sending a pointed look to the front of the car.
“We’ll discuss this at home, poppet.”
Oh, yeah.
Dan was in earshot, even though he was focused on the road.
“Ok,” I turned my face towards the window.
Matt sighed again, the soft sound held so many unspoken words.
I rested my hand over his, lacing my fingers through his own.
“Trust me, poppet,” Matt murmured.
“Trust us.”
I continued to stare out the window.
My husband really didn’t give a fuck about anyone who might disagree with our whirlwind relationship and wedding.
If only I could talk to my Aunt.
Her no-nonsense advice about marriage would be welcomed.
Traffic wasn’t too bad getting into London, considering it was late afternoon on a Monday.
The almost two hour long drive it took to arrive at Matt’s - our home, gave me time to think.
Thinking had its ups and downs.
“What in the bloody hell-” Matt’s words trailed off as we neared the house.
“What?” I asked, peering at him then out his window as he was doing.
“What is it, Matt?”
He sat back against the upholstery and exhaled loudly with closed eyes.
I tapped his leg impatiently.
“What?” If he didn’t answer me in five seconds I would…
make a mess in his closet.
Matt was anal about the walk-in closet being immaculate.
“Adam’s car.”
“What about Adam’s car?” I nudged him again.
“It’s parked back there,” Matt groused.
“Right in front of Nathan’s.”
I spun around, trying to see out the back window.
I didn’t know what type of car Adam drove but I did spot Nathan’s.
“And Hannah’s is there also.” Matt finished emptily.
He gave me a look.
“It seems we have guests, poppet.”
“Did you tell them we were returning today?” I asked, feeling his frustration.
All I wanted was a nice long soak in the tub, preferably in Matt’s arms.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Matt replied with self-recrimination.
He looked out the window again as Dan parked up behind my Cayenne.
“Bollocks. I recognize a few other cars.”
Chewing the insides of my cheeks, I unbuckled the seat belt and leaned closer to Matt.
His intoxicating scent filled my nostrils.
What was it?
Not his cologne for sure, but something else.
It was just him, and it always made my stomach do flip-flops.
“Bugger.” Matt mumbled, eliciting a tiny chuckle from me.
He so rarely said that word and when he did, in that posh voice of his, well, it made me laugh.
“I find nothing amusing about this, poppet,” he reprimanded as he undid his seatbelt.
“It’s quite obvious someone has planned a welcome home party for us, a party that I certainly don’t want to endure, a party in our home, a party that-”
I placed my index finger on his mouth, shushing his tirade.
“It’s fine, Matt, kind of sweet actually.”
Matt jerked his head away.
“We’ll see how sweet you think it is if my parents are there.” The grimness of his tone had my back stiffening up immediately.
His parents, the last thing I wanted was to deal with that drama.
“Yes,” Matt said dryly, noting the dread creeping into my face.
“My point exactly.”
“Ah, we don’t have to go in,” I suggested feebly.
“Maybe we could go to my place?”
Matt cocked his head to the side and the twin eyebrows of doom were slowly lowering, until they were set at scowl level.
“Your place is here. Have you forgotten that already?”
“Focus, Matt,” I peered out the window and bit my lip.
“What are we going to do?”
“There’s nothing for it,” Matt said in resignation.
“We go in, smile and accept their well wishes, then we chase them out our home.”
I grinned at that.
He was dead serious.
“How long?”
Matt was staring at my lips.
“Mmm, maybe half an hour, an hour at the most. Can you bear that long, poppet?”
“If you can, I can.” I said in support.
Matt finally dragged his gaze to my eyes.
“Fine then, let’s go.”
We got out the car.
Dan got our luggage while Matt opened the front door.
“Will there be balloons?” I wondered.
“Streamers and banners?”
Matt’s expression said it all.
Then he voiced his thoughts on it.
“Don’t be silly. That would be tacky.”
Well, excuse me.
I tried not to huff under my breath.
There was nothing wrong with party decorations.
The front door swung open and I was about to stride in when Matt stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“Wha-hey!” I shrieked as he suddenly swooped me up in his arms.
“Matt, what are you doing?”
“Carrying you over the threshold.” he replied blandly.
The glint of humour in his eyes made me smile.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, marvelling at how effortlessly he held me, not even a hint of strain showed on his face.
“We did this already.” I kissed his cheek.
“Remember? When we came back from the church three weeks ago.”
“Mhmm,” he said as he carried me inside.
“You fit perfectly in my arms, poppet.”
I bounced around a bit, testing his grip on me.
It didn’t falter so I kissed him again, this time square on the lips.
It only took seconds for us to get lost in the kiss.
Matt’s tongue caressed mine, unhurriedly and very thorough.
It had to be some sort of spell.
No way could a simple kiss cause such heat to course through my body.
Matt had bewitched me from day one and now I would spend the rest of my life in thrall to him.
“Welcome home, Mr and Mrs Bradley.” George’s greeting intruded on our kiss.
With a lingering pace, Matt and I broke the kiss.
His grey eyes had darkened to chrome silver and his low sigh of frustration fanned across my aching lips.
“One hour,” he muttered before flashing a smile in George’s direction.
“It’s good to be home, George.”
“Hi, George,” I gushed, wriggling in Matt’s arms so he got the hint.
Reluctantly he let me down and I noticed poor Dan stood right outside the front door with our bags.
I brushed past Matt to reach for one of the bags.
“Leave those, poppet,” Matt said, absent-mindedly walking further into the foyer.
“Dan will handle it.”
My nose wrinkled in slight disgust as I grabbed a bag.
Dan tried to take it back and we had a few moments playing tug-of-war.
“Let go, Dan,” I ordered.
“I can handle a few bags.”
“But Mr Bradley said-”
The look on my face silenced him and he allowed me to take a suitcase and tote bag.
I observed Matt’s startled expression, while George just smiled knowingly.
Wheeling the suitcase pass my speechless husband I threw over one shoulder.
“It is the working man who is the happy man. It is the idle man who is the miserable man.”
Matt’s mouth hung open for a second before he asked in disbelief, “Did you just quote Thomas Jefferson to me? A quote about idleness?”
It should not have been a surprise to me Matt was knowledgeable about that quote.
In fact, if I was honest, Matt was probably the smartest person I knew.
I winked at him and smiled prettily while depositing the luggage against the wall.
“Cheeky girl,” he muttered with a shake of head as Dan brought the rest of bags in.
Matt glanced at his driver.
“Thank you, Dan. I’ll take it from here.”
“Good hubby.” I quipped.
“Will you be needing anything more from me, Mr Bradley?” Dan asked.
“No, you’re free to go.” Matt replied quickly.
I waved goodbye to Dan as Matt shut the front door, then shrugged off my coat and hung it up.
Oh, it was toasty warm inside the house.
“I saw the cars out front, George,” Matt eyed his butler.
“How many people are in the house?”
“Eighteen, Mr Bradley.” George said.
“They are in the salon awaiting your entrance.”
Matt grumbled while shoving the remainder of our bags against the wall.
I checked out his ass on the sly.
Nice.
“There are three members of your staff serving drinks,” George brought his employer up to speed.
“And a selection of canapés prepared by your chef.”
“Are my parents here?” Matt did nothing to hide the brusqueness of his tone.
I tensed, waiting for the answer.
“No, Mr Bradley.”
The relief I felt was mirrored by Matt and I bit my lip to stop the sound of glee.
“Fine. Let our guests know we’ll be there in a short while.” Matt ordered before taking my hand in his.
“Yes, Mr Bradley.” George nodded once then turned on his heel.
“Damn it,” Matt tugged me closer.
“Is it too much to ask for some time alone with my new wife?”
I chuckled and went up on tip-toe to kiss him.
“I promise to rock your world later, hon.”
“Mmm,” Matt claimed my lips again.
“I’ll hold you to that, poppet.”
“Here they are.”
We turned in unison to see Nathan coming down the hallway.
George sidestepped him with a polite nod of head and continued on his way.
“You little blighter!” Nathan exclaimed, quickly closing the distance between him and Matt.
I stepped behind my husband of three weeks, not quite sure if Nathan’s expression was one of warm welcome or dangerous disbelief.
He did have an obsession with weapons.
What if he stabbed me for marrying his best friend?
And was he calling me a blighter?
I couldn’t remember the exact definition of the British slang but I was semi-certain it was used for guys not girls.
“Do I have you to blame for this invasion of my home?” Matt asked with a grin as they exchange boisterous man hugs.
“Speak to your sister,” Nathan replied.
“It was her idea. Hello, Madi.”
I smiled my hello as Nathan reached for me, enveloping me in an awkward hug.
Awkward because he was squeezing just a touch too tight and the kiss he pressed on my cheek was a tad too forceful.
“Get your grubby hands off my wife.” Matt grumbled while extricating me from Nathan’s grip.
I exhaled in relief when free.
Nathan chuckled and slapped Matt across the back good-naturedly.
“Honestly, Matt. Must you always try to out-do me? Trying to upstage my upcoming nuptials this month, weren’t you?”
Matt shrugged as he slipped off his coat.
Starting my wifely duties, I took his coat and hung it up.
There.
I’d filled that quota.
“Eloping?” Nathan continued with a smirk.
“How utterly provincial.”
Matt simply grinned, then the look in his eyes softened as he caught my gaze.
“Although,” Nathan mused, scratching his chin.
“There are benefits to avoiding the whole song and dance that a wedding entails.”
I edged back to Matt’s side.
The way he was staring at me, all amorous, it generated a swell of similar emotions inside me.
“I must say that I’m very brassed off with you,” Nathan continued and although he was smiling, his eyes narrowed slightly at Matt.
A hint of temper flashed in their blue depths.
“I’m your closest confidante and you got married without me. What does that say about our friendship, you tosser?”
“Nothing at all,” Matt joked.
“Unlike you, I prefer to lay claim to my woman instead of leaving the field open for someone else, perhaps a Philippe, to swoop in and steal her away.”
Nathan’s mouth fell open, wide open, and Matt chuckled under his breath.
The name Philippe seemed to rub Nathan the wrong way.
I thought it sounded dashing.
“Right,” Nathan said with a begrudging smile and shake of head.
“Point taken. Congratulations by the way. Everyone’s eager to see you both so don’t dally in the foyer.” And to bring his point home, Nathan grabbed my arm and propelled me forward, leaving a suddenly un-amused Matt behind us.
I was getting fed up with these manly types using their larger stature to dominate me.
Unless you were a male dancer manoeuvring me across a stage; keep your damned hands off.
I jerked free and scowled at Nathan.
“Grabbing a black woman like that is just asking for a smack, Nathan,” Came my warning.
“Grabbing any woman like that deserves a smack.”
“Rightly said, poppet,” Matt gently took my arm and I smiled sweetly at him as he threatened serious pain with his eyes in Nathan’s direction.
“Remind me to tell Nathan what happened to the guard who grabbed your Aunt when we in the States.”
“He got smacked,” I recounted with an arched eyebrow and Nathan’s face filled with disbelief.
“More than once.”
“Well,” he said in a haughty tone.
“I shall refrain from-”
“Too right you will. She’s my wife, get your own.” Matt interrupted.
I could hear the barely restrained laughter in his voice over Nathan’s affront.
“Did you miss us, Nathan?” I asked with a mischievous grin, linking my free arm with his.
Nathan looked down at our entwined arms and snorted.
Then he patted my arm with a smile.
“Miss is too strong a word. I resented Matt leaving on such short notice, things are hectic at the office.”
“You guys are always busy.” I mumbled under my breath.
Both men ignored me so I repeated myself.
“I said, you guys are-”
“We heard you, poppet.” Matt said in a soothing tone then peered intently at Nathan.
“What is it? I can tell something is up so spit it out, Nathan.”
“Louisa is here with a date.” Nathan said with a wry grin.
“Your sister’s warped sense of humour was on show when she decided on the guest list for this small soiree. Hannah is practically oozing malicious joy at the prospect of flaunting Madi as her sister-in-law in front of Louisa, and Bella has already made a few comments. Honestly, Matt, I knew they weren’t overly fond her but this gloating is hard to witness.”
My head swivelled side to side before finally settling in my husband’s direction.
I gave him a look, just a look.
Matt returned my look with a sheepish grin and a nonchalant shrug of his broad shoulders.
“One hour, Matt,” I decreed, dropping both their arms and moving forward with the fakest smile plastered across my face.
“One hour then I’m going to bed,” I glanced over my shoulder, eyebrows raised slightly.
“With or without you.”
“Poppet,” Matt beckoned me back with a crook of finger.
I snorted loudly and took a few more steps forward.
Bloody Louisa.
Stupid blondie.
Argh!
Nothing quite like seeing the bombshell my new husband had once been sexing.
She had better not start anything tonight.
“Aren’t you planning on changing your attire?” Matt called from behind.
I stopped, inhaled then turned around slowly with a bland expression on my face.
“Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Even Nathan heard the dangerous undertone in my voice.
He shot Matt a quick sympathetic glance and softly hummed under his breath.
Matt bit his lip.
“Not at all. Ah, it’s fine.”
I nodded my head.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Nathan nudged Matt with his elbow and murmured something too low for me to hear.
Matt tried to hide his amused grin but failed.
They both got some mean eyes from me before I spun around and resumed my journey forward.
“One hour.” I called in warning over my shoulder to my husband of three weeks.
This was going to be one of the longest hours of my life, and the first course of action was to get a drink, a strong one.
I was certain there was a bottle of Absinthe in the house.
Was it in Matt’s office or one of the kitchen cupboards?
Damned Medusa.
Driving me to drink…
yeah, I wasn’t an alcoholic; I was a situational drinker and this situation definitely deserved it.
She had better not start something.
The quick trip to the kitchen was a fruitful one, the Absinthe stood nestled between two bottles of aged whiskey.
I found the ornate spoon, got me some crumbly sugar cubes, a suitable glass and some water.
Forget the fire shit, as pretty as that looked, I was doing this the proper way.
Then I thought about the beautiful Louisa again and I grimly, but bravely, drank it neat.
Oo rah.
Valerie was busy with food, some pastry to be precise, but our greetings had been cordial.
She politely ignored my downing of liquor while I politely hid my irritation over her rough use of my rolling pin.
A shot of Absinthe, followed by two shots of whiskey had my eyes streaming, but the burn was acceptable, and the buzz wouldn’t take long now.
I blotted the moisture from my eyes with a kitchen towel, tossed it, then washed my hands before inhaling and exhaling deeply.
My chi was now centred.
When I exited the kitchen, Matt was waiting for me with a small frown on his face.
“What were you doing?” He held an arm out for me.
I took his arm and shrugged.
“Did you just have a drink?” he asked, leaning in close enough to sniff around my mouth.
“Madison!”
I kissed him, swapping my boozy saliva for his non-boozy one.
“One hour.”
Matt tucked my arm tighter in the crook of his and led us down the hallways without replying.
When we entered the salon, a loud cheer of congratulations came our way.
Moments before our unexpected guests swarmed us, my new hubby whispered in my ear, “Maybe less, stop scowling.”
I grinned like a fool and readied myself as Hannah reached us first.
“Hi,” I gushed as we hugged, but my gaze was trained on Medusa who was heading towards us with a man on her arm.
Her blue eyes connected with my brown eyes over Hannah’s shoulder.
The alcohol buzz was tentatively taking root and my chi tilted, no longer centred.
Louisa looked like a delicacy in that dress.
Damn.
Maybe I should have changed after all.
She looked munch-able and I couldn’t forget Matt used to dine on everything she had to offer.
A whole hour?
Definitely less…