Lovers' Dance

Chapter 21.5

>>>

I couldn’t stop crying. The cab driver had stopped the meter at a 7-11, gotten out his cab, went inside the store, and come back with a box of tissues. Getting to Central Park West was murder. It was Thanksgiving, after all. Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade had started at nine am from 77th Street and Central Park West. The route was usually closed until three pm, then reopened after clean up.

It was almost five and the streets leading towards the building where Matt was had just been opened. Clean up had taken longer than usual and, of course, there was a backup of traffic with people trying to get home for dinner. We hadn’t eaten. Matt would be hungry. I should cook something for him.

Dabbing at my leaking eyes, I had a moment of fright. What if he’d left? What if he was on his way to his private jet? What if he hated me for not leaving with him? So many damned what ifs.

“Here we are, Miss,” the cabbie said. “This sure is a nice building. Let me get your cases.”

I tried to say thank you, but could only blubber incoherently. Mr Nice got my cases out of the trunk while I pulled cash out to pay my fare. It took me longer than expected. I kept pulling pounds out instead of dollars. I was finally able to pay my fees and the cabbie got behind the wheel. He looked out his window and said, “Put a smile on that face. Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be crying.”

He drove away. The doorman recognized me, thank God. He got one of the building’s bellhops to put my cases on a trolley and take them to the elevators. I held my wooden box in my arms. It was large enough to put a strain on my arms, but I couldn’t let it go.

The bellhop looked at me. “Miss, you need to use your key to activate the elevator.”

Key? Oh, yes. On Tuesday I had seen Matt use a key when we got in the elevator. It was added security measures for the wealthy people who resided here, and I didn’t have a key. My tears came harder.

“If you hand that box over, you can get your key out,” he advised, trying to act as if he didn’t have a bawling black woman in front of him.

“I—key—” Nonsense came out my mouth and he was looking at me suspiciously.

“Which floor are you heading to, miss?” he asked.

“Top—” I wiped my cheek on my shoulder.

His eyes narrowed further. “The penthouse?” There was an undertone of disbelief in his voice as he let his gaze travel over me.

“Yes—please.”

“You need your key,” he repeated. “I’m going to need you to step out of the elevator, miss,” he warned, pulling my cases out. “Without a key, I can’t allow you upstairs. Our residents are particular about their privacy—”

“Boyfriend,” I sobbed out, hoping it was true. Matt’s face when he said he was ashamed of me… “Matthew—Bradley—is—my—boyfriend,” I said between gulps of air.

The man narrowed his eyes, then, “Oh, yes, I remember you. You were here on Tuesday with Mr Bradley.” His cheeks got flushed, probably remembering the sight of us making out like teenagers before the elevator doors had slid shut.

I nodded and he brought my cases back in the elevator and the doors slid shut as he used a master key. “I shouldn’t be doing this, but you look upset.”

I nodded. Upset? I was past upset. I was a mess. A snivelling mess of a person who had just…oh God. I couldn’t go back home. Even though the tears rolled down my face, indicative of my inner pain, a numbness was stealing over me. It was like being in that hospital bed, being told my parents were dead, it was like that all over again. My family was gone, and I was alone.

“Miss? Do you need assistance?” The man asked, obviously getting concerned over my wracking sobs. “Do you need the police?”

I shook my head slowly. I needed to stop crying, but my eyes were broken it seemed. My arms ached from clutching the wooden box. It was dusty, the flower stickers Auntie Cleo and I had plastered over the top all those years ago were faded, the plastic lock and key I had bought from the ninety-nine cent store on the latch keeping my memories safe was brittle.

I couldn’t go home and the tears continued to fall.

The elevator doors finally slid apart, revealing two suit-clad Rambos, like Cerberus guarding the entrance to Hades. They were the Escalade Rambos. Ryan the Hulk was further down the private hallway, outside the doors that opened into the luxurious condo. He saw me and started walking towards the elevator. The Escalade Rambos were not letting me get out.

“Ms DuMont,” His face was set in a professional mask. “We were not told to expect you. Mr Bradley left strict orders that he’s not to be disturbed.”

I cried harder at those words. Hulk exchanged a look with the Escalade Rambos, then rubbed his forehead. He jerked his head in the direction of my cases and they each took one, while Hulk held his hand out, gesturing down the hallway. I stepped out of the elevator and started towards the doors. Two minutes later, my cases had been deposited inside the condo. Hulk had extricated my box from my arms and placed it on the Onice Verde marble floor.

My heels echoed loudly as I walked further into the condo. Matt wasn’t in the living space or the kitchen so I headed for the next likely place, the master bedroom. The sounds of the shower coming from the opened door of the ensuite confirmed his whereabouts. I deliberated over going in there, but decided against it. I would be annoyed if someone unexpectedly walked in on my shower. Maybe I should order food. I was certain there were old take-out menus in one of the drawers in the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later an empty, “Why are you here, Madison?” came from behind me. I hadn’t heard Matt’s approach, too immersed in my despair.

I spun around, wiping away the tears. The expression on his face was a bland one. There was no anger, no pleasant surprise; there was no emotion on his achingly handsome face and my eyes leaked more.

“Because you are,” I managed to get past the lump in my throat, running a trembling hand over my curls. He watched me as if I was a stranger. Why was he looking at me like that?

Matt tightened his robe and walked over to the fridge. His hair was damp, a bit wild from being towel dried. I watched as he took out an energy drink before closing the fridge door and turning in my direction. Matt kept his gaze on me as he cracked the bottle and took a drink before putting it down.

“Because I am?” he repeated in that emotionless voice. “And that matters why?”

“I—because—I thought—” The words couldn’t get past the lump and, the longer he regarded me with that lack of emotion, the harder it was to breathe.

“You thought what, Madison?” he asked, then his eyes darkened in anger. The first indication of his feelings. Why couldn’t it be a joyous welcoming look? Why did it have to be anger? “You refused to leave with me.”

“I’m here now,” I said.

“Why?” Matt queried, his tone now dark like the look in his eyes. “Is it because you remembered it was my plane that flew you here? You need a lift back home? Is that why, Madison?”

“What? No. That’s not—” I stopped, realization dawning. He didn’t care that I had sought him out. It was clear from the barely hidden derision creeping into his face. By not leaving with him, I had injured his pride, and Matt was a proud man. Quite unforgiving, too.

“This—” I held the back of my hand against my nose, hoping to staunch the flow. The tears I couldn’t stop and there were no more tissues left in the box from Mr Nice. “This was a bad idea. I’ll just—just go.”

Now I was completely numb. I had walked out on my family, thinking Matt would receive me with open arms. Man. I was stupid. I should have known better. Under his piercing gaze, I swallowed my sobs and made my way out of the kitchen. My family didn’t want me. Matt didn’t want me. I would figure this out. I needed to call a taxi, find a hotel somewhere, then call the airlines to book a flight back to England. Wait, I could call Sol, but no. What was I thinking? They were away. Her father was unwell and they had flown to California a day after Matt and I had arrived in New York. Hotel it was. Had I used all my dollars to pay the cab? I needed to find a currency exchange, unless I could find a hotel that accepted British pounds. Where was my cell? Google search would find one for me.

I was almost back at my suitcases when my wrist got grabbed from behind. I jerked in surprise, twisting around to see Matt right behind me. Damn. He was quiet. I yanked against his hold and got nowhere as he tightened his grip.

“Why are you here, Madison?”

I yanked again. “I told you. But it doesn’t matter because I’m leaving now. Let go.”

“Not until you tell me the real reason why you’re here,” he said in a raised voice.

“I can’t go home,” I yelled up at him. Stupid, tall man. Towering over me like that. “I chose you and I can’t go home. Are you happy? I walked out on my family. I left. And I can’t go home ever again.”

The grip he had on my wrist was suddenly gone. I rubbed my wrist and turned away from him, planning on getting my stuff and getting the hell out of here.

“Why?” he asked.

I swiped at the tears coursing down my face. How much more moisture could leak from my eyes? I would need to rehydrate or something.

“Why, Madison?” he pressed.

“Stop asking me questions,” I cried, wanting to flee this place. I wouldn’t humiliate myself any further, and I wasn’t sure which stage of grief I was in at the moment. Denial; no, there was no state of denial. I knew exactly what I had done, what had occurred in the house I grew up in.

Anger, yes. I was angry at…myself maybe. Matt, too, for being so damned cold with me. I was here, wasn’t I? Aunt Cleo…my chest tightened as I pictured her face when I left. Wait, isolation went hand in hand with denial. I did feel isolated. So I felt isolated, but wasn’t in denial. Great.

There was no bargaining to be had. Aunt Cleo had been clear.

Depression, oh depression. My leaking eyes and streaming nose were signs that I would be heading down that road soon.

And acceptance. I was numb so that might be a while in coming.

“Answer me, Madison,” Matt ordered.

“Stop calling me that.” It was the last straw. The impersonal way he called me by my first name. “I’m Poppet. I’m your poppet, and I chose you. I’m here because I love you. I chose you, Matt. Do you understand what I’m saying? I did something I never believed was possible. I chose someone else over my family. Over my family. What sort of person does that? I’ll tell you. Someone who’s disloyal, someone who’s selfish, someone who’s—” It was hard to breathe. Speaking and crying at the same time was making it hard for me to breathe.

“Why didn’t you leave with me?” he asked quietly. “Why would you make me leave alone if you were going to choose me? I could’ve supported you, been there for you. Why would you put me through this? Why would you make me feel like nothing in front your family—”

I smacked his chest before I knew what I was doing. Matt’s jaw clenched, and I took a few steps back then stopped. Fuck it. “Do you hear yourself, Matt? This isn’t about you. How you felt. I walked out on the only family I have left. They took me in when I had no one and now I’m alone again.” I burst into a fresh bout of tears.

Matt swallowed hard, then said, “I could have supported you during—”

“No,” I shouted. Why couldn’t he understand? “No. I had to do this myself. This couldn’t be about you, even though in a way it was. This was between me and my family, things that had nothing to do with our relationship and everything to do with the way I was made to feel growing up. It’s not all about you, Matthew Bradley. Get over yourself. I am having a bad day, a really bad day, and I don’t have the strength left to deal with your hurt feelings. I have to go.”

Matt closed the distance between us. “No. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Excuse me?”

He took me by the arm and herded me into the living room where he sat me down on the huge sofa. On my forced descent to the sofa I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a huge ornate mirror above the mantle. Crap. I was definitely an ugly crier. I watched him hurry away, leaving me alone for a few minutes before he came back with a box of tissues.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, then added softly, “Poppet.”

Good thing I had tissues now, hearing him confirm I was still his poppet made my eyes leak some more. I blew my runny nose and tried to compose myself. After a short while, Matt came back and took a seat next to me. In the space between us he placed a little box. I blinked tears away. What the?

“Open it,” he commanded before saying, “Please.”

I raised my gaze to his. “What’s in it?”

Matt gave me a small smile. “Open it and see.”

It was a plain black, velvet box, no markings; just a little black box. “Why don’t you tell me what’s in it?”

“Open it,” he urged.

I shook my head, trying not to stare at the box as if it was plutonium.

“Okay.” Matt picked the box up. “I’ll open it.”

And he did.

“Do you like it, poppet?” he asked, barely above a whisper. “I had it made for you. Do you like the colour? It’s a natural red diamond and quite rare. Here, let’s put it on you and we can see how lovely it looks against your skin.”

Matt was holding my left hand with one hand and this oh-my-God-amazing ring with the other.

I finally broke out of my stupor and snatched my left hand away, putting it to my chest and covering it with my right hand. Matt looked shocked.

“Is that a sorry-you’re-having-a-bad-day sort of ring—” I started, and Matt cut me off with an arched eyebrow.

“Does this look like that sort of ring, poppet?” he asked dryly, a glint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. He was smiling at me, a real smile.

I shook my head slowly. “No, it doesn’t, Matt.”

He reached for my hand and I jerked away.

“Madison.” His eyebrows furrowed at my reluctance to let him take my hand.

“Wait,” I said.

“What?” He exhaled loudly, leaning back a bit.

I took a deep breath and asked, “If it’s not a sorry-you’re-having-a-bad-day ring, what sort of ring is it?”

Matt gave me an exasperated look before saying dryly, “It’s an engagement ring, of course.”

He reached for my hand again and I pulled back even further.

“Madi,” he hissed. “Stop pulling away.”

“You haven’t asked me yet,” I said. Matt grinned at me. And I was grinning back. If this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up. “You have to say ‘Poppet, I love you.’” I paused, looking expectantly at him.

“Poppet, I love you,” he said with raw emotion.

I scrunched my face up. “No, say ‘I love you, poppet.’ That sounds better.”

Matt growled at me and my grin widened as he repeated, “I love you, poppet.”

“And I want you to be my wife,” I stated, but my voice ended on a questioning lilt. This couldn’t be happening…it was happening.

Matt’s grey eyes glistened. “I don’t want you to be my wife, poppet.”

Sorry, what? He didn’t want…what sort of—

“I need you to be my wife. There’s a difference,” he said huskily. “I need you in my life, every day of my life. I need you to be mine, completely.”

Matt eased my left hand free and was about to put that exquisite ring on my hand when I yanked it back.

“Bloody hell, poppet,” he exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“I haven’t said yes,” I replied with a pounding heart. Matt asked me to marry him. Well, I asked Matt to ask me to—who said what didn’t matter. Oh my God. Matt wanted to marry me.

Matt nabbed my hand and slipped the ring on. It fit perfectly. “I already know your answer,” he murmured. “You’re here, aren’t you? That’s my answer.”

I blinked at him. At least I was too shocked from this startling turn of events to cry. “What?”

Matt raised my left hand to his lips and kissed my bejewelled finger. “You came after me. You left your family, and I’m sorry because I know it must hurt you, but you chose me, poppet. You’re here, not there. That’s all the answer I need. I’m going to kiss you now.”

And he did. It was the sweetest kiss I’d had from him to date.

“Is your day improving?” he asked moments later, while I tried to catch my breath.

“I don’t know,” I replied, looking at the glinting ring on my left hand. “I’m waiting for you to tell me the requirements that go with being your fiancée. This ring does have a return period, doesn’t it?” I was trying to be humorous, seeing as my world had crashed around me earlier and was now slowly being rebuilt. One massive red diamond at a time. Jesus. How much had it cost? And could I convince him to exchange it for something less expensive? But he’d said it was made for me, and it did look fantastic on my hand. It was the most bittersweet moment of my adult life. The man I love had asked me to marry him, and I had no family left to share the news with. At least none that were willing to speak to me. That bridge had been razed, the earth beneath it salted. There was no going back for me.

Matt, regarding me closely, must have seen the sadness in my eyes because he said, “I’ll always be here for you, poppet. Whatever the future holds for us, know that I’ll be right here”—he linked his hand with mine—“holding on to you. Reminding you that you are not alone.”

I looked at our entwined hands and nodded slowly. Who would have thought that night he’d saved me we would end up here?

“I was right about you,” I said with conviction, as Matt wrapped his arms around me and pulled me on top of his lap.

“In what sense?” he asked, beginning to kiss the side of my face.

“You are a crazy gazillionaire,” I explained. He had to be, that was the only logical reason behind him proposing.

Matt laughed, a deep masculine laugh that lightened my underlying sadness. “I’ve told you before, gazillionaire isn’t an actual word, poppet.”

>>>

Matt quietly finished getting dressed, conscious of the tiny snores coming from the bed. The covers were halfway off the bed, and the morning light streaming through the open drapes danced playfully over her sleeping form. His eyes rested on her hand, flung haphazardly over his pillow and in possession of the ring he had given her. Amusement curled his mouth up. She always did that. Whenever he left their bed, she would immediately roll into the spot he’d vacated. It was endearing. His amusement withered away as he remembered their conversation over dinner the night before. Her dismay that she bravely tried to hide even though her eyes flinched at every mention of her family. It had been a shock finding her here yesterday afternoon. It had taken everything inside him to fight the instinctive urge of wrapping his arms around her and wiping those tears away. He never liked seeing her cry.

But his pride had been dealt a hard blow. A cruel blow. Making him painfully aware of the place she held in his heart and the gut-wrenching emptiness of potentially losing her, even if it was only for a few hours. Matt never wanted to experience those feelings again. His eyes rested on the ring gracing her dainty hand and he smiled. It hadn’t gone exactly the way he planned, but his ring was on her finger and those were the results he’d prayed for. She was his. Like the male of any species, he felt satisfaction at laying claim to his female, marking her so others would know she was off limits. She was spoken for, she was his. The flawless red diamond she wore was a bold and suitable notification to all that she was his intended.

Matt made his way over to the bed and bent down, brushing her wild curls off her face to reveal the smoothness of her cheek.

“Poppet,” he murmured after pressing the lightest of kisses across her skin.

“Mmm.” She snuggled further into the pillows.

“I’m heading out for a bit,” Matt said in a soft voice.

“Mhmm.”

“I’ll be a few hours,” he advised as he reached over to tug the covers over her nakedness lest she get chilled. “Ryan will be outside. If you need anything, let him know.”

One brown eye opened as she squinted at him and asked in a sleep-laced voice, “Is that one of the requirements, hon?”

“Pardon?”

“Of being your fiancée? The”—she stifled a yawn—“bodyguard thing.”

“Yes,” Matt confirmed as she closed her eye.

“Mmm, we’ll see. Love you.” She turned on her side and moments later resumed snoring.

Matt toyed with her curls before moving away. If he stayed any longer, he would not leave at all and there were things he needed to do. Pulling the bedroom door closed he made his way out the condo, pausing to pick up the brown envelope, his wallet, mobile and keys. He instructed Ryan to ensure Madi had everything she needed while he was away, then he and the remaining two guards took the lift down to the waiting limo. Matt fingered the envelope as the limo pulled away from the curb. His poppet’s capacity for love had floored him. She had told him everything that had transpired after he left her aunt and uncle’s house. The things Jenny had said to her; those hurtful things. Yet, she had no malice in her heart for her younger cousin. Instead, she had written another cheque and, on a piece of paper, she had written a few words: ‘I’m sorry I made you cry, Jenny-penny. I love you all.’

She was a better person than he, and being with her made him a better man. That was why he was now on his way to Queens. He was furious—livid would be an apt description of his thoughts on their treatment of Madi. But, if there was any way to fix the breach between her and her family, he would do it. Just to make her smile.

“We’re here, Mr. Bradley.” The chauffeur’s voice came over the internal intercom and Matt raised his head. He’d been lost in his thoughts for the whole journey.

Matt exited the limo before the chauffeur had a chance to get out and open his door. A minute later, his finger pressed the doorbell. It wasn’t a long wait until the door cracked open and Madi’s uncle peered out at him. The man’s eyes widened as he opened the door fully, then darted eagerly to the limo parked on the street.

“Is Madi—”

“She’s not with me,” Matt interrupted, and hastened to add she was at his place when he saw the worry flood her uncle’s face.

“Who is it, David?” came from inside the house.

Matt stiffened and asked, “May I come in?”

David stepped back to allow him entrance. When Matt walked in, it was to come face to face with Cleo. The look she gave him said it all.

“Why are you here?” She got straight to the point, but her eyes jumped to the front door. Like her husband, it held the embers of eager hope that died when David closed the door.

Cleo held a hand out gesturing for him to take a seat. Matt did so, all the while silently promising to maintain his cool reserve.

“Madi wanted to have this mailed, but I thought it best to deliver it by hand,” he said, handing the envelope over to her uncle. David handed it over to Cleo as he took a seat opposite Matt.

“I’ve asked her to marry me,” Matt stated without aplomb. “And she’s accepted my proposal.”

Cleo’s face when he said he had asked Madi to marry him was a picture. It became more shocked when he advised her niece had accepted. Her aunt took a seat next to her husband, wearing a dazed expression. They stared at him in silence.

“It was not the way I intended to ask,” Matt said, glancing at her uncle. “I would have preferred to discuss such matters with you first. Unfortunately, things did not work out that way.”

“No,” David finally responded. “They didn’t.”

Cleo looked away from Matt’s gaze and her jaw clenched, whether in anger or despair Matt could not tell. She hid her eyes from him.

“It’s a cheque.” Matt gestured to the envelope in Cleo’s hand. “From Madi for your daughter’s tuition.”

Cleo’s bottom lip quivered for a second before she inhaled softly and straightened her shoulders, lifting her head to stare at Matt.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked coldly. “What do you want from us?”

“Nothing,” Matt said quietly. “In fact, I would like to thank you.”

They exchanged confused looks before turning their attention back to him.

“Madison is beautiful, inside and out,” Matt said in a voice full of sincerity and pride. “She is sweet and fiercely protective of those she loves. She is determined, stubborn and makes me laugh in a way no one has ever done before. She sees the good in everyone.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “And ignores the bad. She wants the best for everyone in her life, even if sometimes it makes her uncomfortable or goes against her own personal beliefs. She loves without conditions, without boundaries, and she loves me. So, I owe you thanks, for having a hand in raising such a wonderful person. Thank you.”

Cleo looked away. Matt could see her throat bobbing up and down frantically, but he couldn’t see her eyes.

“And I love her,” he said as he got to his feet. “More than life itself, and it’s a shame you refuse to acknowledge that.”

“I don’t know you.” Cleo’s head snapped around, dark brown eyes flashing. “I don’t trust you. Lord knows I’m not perfect and I’ve made mistakes, but she’s my brother’s baby and I did the best I could for her. Kept all those boys with their promises of the moon they couldn’t deliver far away from her, because I knew she had something special. I may have made mistakes along the way, been too strict, kept a distance between us…but I kept her on the straight and narrow.” Cleo stood up now. “And you, with your money and fancy life, you’ve come into her world and no one sees her. They paint her as some sort of gold-digging whore when she’s not. Oh I know, I read the things they say about her on the Internet. Being with you has done this. I don’t know you, but I see what being with you has done and I don’t want that for her. I don’t want her facing a life of always having to deal with people looking down their noses at her because of her race, or where she’s from, or how much money she has.”

“I love her, and I will protect her,” Matt said.

“And your family?” she shot back. “Tell me, what are their views on your relationship?”

Matt’s aloof mask was on as he answered, “My siblings are becoming quite fond of her.”

“Your parents?” Cleo asked. “Are they becoming fond of her, too?”

Matt wondered whether Madi had told her aunt about his parents’ continued frigidness with her. He wondered if she’d confided the hateful things Grumps had said to her. “They will come around soon enough.”

Cleo snorted, her gaze looking over him with something close to righteous disgust. “They don’t accept her, yet you expect us to accept you? Judging us for not doing so, when your own family don’t like her?”

“I’ve proposed to Madi, and she’s accepted,” he repeated. “We will be married and, whoever disagrees, well, that is not my concern. I love your niece, and I will protect her.”

“She’s a black woman,” Cleo replied in a hard voice. “She was raised knowing she doesn’t need a man to protect her. She can protect herself. I’m not going to lie, I can’t pretend to be happy about this because I’m not.” She held her head high, a haughty demeanour that reminded him of Madi. “I will say this though, my niece may be angry with me, she may never forgive me…I hurt—we hurt each other something bad yesterday. But God as my witness, you break her heart and there is nowhere you can hide from me. I don’t care how much money you have. Something you should know about black women: You do not hurt our kin, not if you value your life.”

Matt watched the bristling woman in front of him. He could see the shine of tears in her eyes even though she maintained a hard glare in his direction.

He sighed, knowing there was nothing he could say to assure her that he would never cause Madi pain, but he tried anyway. “I would never hurt her. I’m going to marry her and, you may not believe it, but she means everything to me.”

“I don’t trust you, Matthew Bradley,” Cleo said with a finality that echoed around the room.

Matt nodded. “She’ll be waiting for you, whenever you’re ready. Madi will be waiting, because that’s the type of person she is.”

Cleo looked at her husband, then back at Matt. The tiniest of smiles rippled over her mouth as she shook her head slowly. “You still have a lot to learn about my Madi. You’re right, she loves without conditions and boundaries. This cheque in my hand here is a prime example of that, but her forgiveness is not limitless. You ever hurt her deep and you’ll see what I mean. You don’t know my Madi.”

“I know what matters,” Matt countered.

Cleo stared at him for a moment, then walked out of the sitting room without a further word. Matt sighed as David got up and walked towards the door, holding it open for him.

“They’re both hurting,” David said as Matt headed for the door.

“I hoped I could fix it,” Matt said dryly.

David peered at him and shrugged. “A man doesn’t have the necessary tools to fix something like this. It’s up to them.” David paused and stepped back so Matt could walk out of the house. Then he called, “Hurt her and I will send my Cleo after you. Trust me, you don’t want that.”

Matt snorted in disbelief before turning on his heels and heading for the waiting limo. At least he had tried.

He spent the next few hours shopping, an absolute chore, but he knew the twins would never forgive him if he returned home empty handed. When he walked into the condo, he directed his two shadows to leave the numerous bags in the foyer. He was about to dismiss them when he heard a muffled grunt followed by a shouted, “Ai-yah!”

They all moved as one unit towards the living space. Matt outpaced the men paid to protect him, but his only concern was Madison. The sight that met his eyes had him forcibly swallowing his laughter as he plastered a unamused expression on his face.

“Ya!” Madi yelled, pretending to slam a fist in Ryan’s chest. She hadn’t noticed the return of Matt and his shadows. Ryan looked over at Matt, his weary expression making Matt think this had been going on for a while.

“Ai-yah!” She stood on one leg, the other raised in a high kick. “See? I’ve got ninja skills, Hulk.”

“Yes, Ms DuMont,” Ryan replied politely.

“Poppet,” Matt called and she spun around with wide eyes. “Stop play fighting with Ryan. I’m not paying him enough to deal with this.”

“Ah, yes,” she mumbled. “I was showing Hulk here my moves.”

Matt could see she was embarrassed at being caught messing around. She was blushing but, if he called her on it she would deny it, using her mantra of ‘Black girls don’t blush.’ He observed her for a minute, eyes running over her white t-shirt and matching yoga pants, hair pulled back in a high ponytail which put emphasis on her striking features. She was beautiful. There was no need for her to dress up or wear makeup. None of those things women did to make themselves appealing to the opposite sex was necessary with her. She was simply beautiful just as she was.

Matt realized he’d been staring at her for longer than was polite in the presence of company. The knowing male glances being exchanged between the guards had Matt adjusting the open look of longing on his face.

He cleared his throat and turned to Ryan. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning at six am. That will be all.” He gestured to the front door, dismissing the men. Once he was alone with Madi, his hands started tugging his shirt out of his pants. She arched an eyebrow at him and took a few steps back.

“Did you have breakfast, poppet?” Matt asked, undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“Yes,” she confirmed, eyeing him. “Ryan brought me food.”

“That’s good.” Matt discarded his shirt and was tugging his under-vest over his head. “Shall we go out for lunch later?”

“Maybe.” She took a couple more steps backwards. “Have you moved my envelope, Matt? It was on the table last night, and I wanted to get it in the mail today.”

Matt started unbuckling his belt. “It’s been delivered. Don’t worry about it.” He pulled the belt through its loops and grinned at her. “Why are you still dressed?”

“Why are you getting undressed?” she asked. “Last night was—”

“Was last night,” he said throatily as the memories of her naked body beneath his flooded his mind. He didn’t want old memories; he wanted to make new ones. “You know I can never get enough of you, poppet. Come here.”

“Your bodyguards are right outside, Matt.” She hedged, and Matt paused in slipping off his pants, observing her intently. He had to remind himself that, although she wasn’t body conscious, she was shy about certain things. Wearing leotards that left nothing to the imagination while twirling around a dance floor with another man as others watched on didn’t faze her. Making love with people nearby did. Never mind they were behind closed doors.

“They won’t hear a thing,” he cajoled, stripping off the rest of his clothing.

Madi stared at his nakedness, eyes lingering on his obvious state of arousal. Matt sauntered over to the large leather sofa and sat down, patting his thighs firmly so she understood his intention. He watched from half-closed eyes as she began to undress slowly. When she glided over to stand in front him, he was almost crazed with the need to be inside her moist tightness. He held her by the hips as she straddled him and rested her hands over his shoulders. With their gaze locked on each other, she slid down his hardness, enveloping him in the heated folds of her flesh.

“Poppet.” Matt gasped at the feel of their flesh becoming one. Her luscious lips were parted, eyes widening as her body accommodated his pulsing manhood. He held her tightly when he was fully inside her, savouring the moment. It felt like coming home. Her body was home…she was his home.

“I’ve got my own requirements, you know,” she murmured, raising herself up slightly before sliding back over him.

Matt arched his hips upwards and her fingers dug into his shoulders as a low moan fell from her lips.

“Requirements?” He bent his head, kissing his way over her breasts while relinquishing his hold on her hips to instead grip her arse.

“Yes,” she exclaimed with a shudder. “You can’t…oh God…work as hard.”

Matt thrust upwards and the sound she made had his chest tightening. He wanted her to make that particular sound again.

“Mmm,” he agreed, getting drunk off her scent, the sounds of their coupling, the sensation of her body moving on top of his.

“A-and you—have to stop being—oh, don’t stop that, Matt.” Her head fell into his neck. “So bossy. S-stop being so bossy.”

“Mhmm.” His eyes closed as he focused on controlling his thrusts while guiding her movements above him.

“And—”

“Hush, poppet,” he growled into her ear before nibbling it. She did as ordered, the only noises to be heard were their intensifying groans of mutual pleasure.

Until she screamed for him and, hearing his name torn from her lips as they exploded into ecstasy, made his orgasm more potent deep inside her body.

“Love you,” she gasped, collapsing against him, a light sheen of sweat glistening over her dark skin. Matt ran his shaking hands over her back as he fought to catch his breath. He buried his face in her neck wanting to immerse himself in her scent. She was his drug of choice, his dark beauty.

“I love you too,” he finally replied once he got his breathing under control. “We’re not finished yet,” he added when her breathing started evening out. Madi laughed and sat up, drawing a tortured groan from him at her movement.

“You have the libido of a twenty-year-old, Matt,” she teased.

He winked at her before slanting his lips across hers and twisting their bodies into a horizontal position over the sofa. “The blame lies entirely at your feet. Now, shall we continue?”

She grinned at him, running her hands through his hair as she nodded. “We shall.”

Hours later in bed, Matt kept one eye on her and the other on the telly as he caught up on the news. She was replying to her emails and, every so often, a tiny frown would tug at her mouth.

“Poppet, are you okay?” he asked suddenly, muting the TV.

She was laying on her stomach, lower legs up and crossed at the ankles, wearing nothing more than knickers.

“Um hmm,” she murmured distractedly, not sparing him a glance where he reclined against the pillows. Matt caught her feet—they were lying in opposite directions—and tickled her arches. She jerked away.

“I’m asking you a serious question. Pay attention,” he reprimanded.

She immediately sat up and folded her arms across her bare chest. Matt couldn’t stop himself from an appreciative glance that turned into a stare, then the expected response of his body’s urgent request to claim his woman surged to the front of his thoughts.

“Matt,” she called to him, and he dragged his gaze back to her face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “This current estrangement from your family, I don’t want it—”

“I’m fine.” She cut him off. “It is what it is.”

Matt sighed and crooked a finger at her. Reluctantly, she crawled up the bed to where he was.

“You’re upset. Don’t act like you’re not, poppet,” he said. “You shouldn’t bottle your feelings up inside.” Matt frowned at her. “I would hate for this to have an adverse effect on you.”

“I’m not going to have a nervous breakdown,” she replied wryly. “My sessions with Dr Brown have—look, I’m dealing with it. I need some time.”

Matt nodded. “Of course, just know I’m here if you want to talk.”

She regarded him for a few seconds, a guarded look seeping into her brown eyes as she said, “Why is it I’m the one doing all the talking? You never confide your problems to me.”

“Because I don’t have any problems,” he teased. “Haven’t you noticed how perfect I am, poppet?”

Madi shook her head, then bent forward to grab her iPad as Matt put the volume back on the telly. He secretly observed her. He was worried about her, knowing full well the enormity of what had transpired over Thanksgiving hadn’t set in as yet. She loved her family.

“Stop it, Matt,” she muttered, head down and eyes trained on the screen in her lap. “I can feel you staring at me. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

A low chuckle came from him. “I’m looking forward to our return home, poppet.”

She turned with a grimace on her face, holding her left hand up. “I’m not. Do you have any idea of how busy I’ll be with work? In a few weeks the production will be on and I don’t want you complaining about me not spending time with you, Matt.” she warned. “And I don’t even want to think of your parents’ reaction—”

“They’ll come around,” he interjected smoothly. “Everything will be fine as long as you adhere to my requirements.”

Madi narrowed her eyes at him. “Let’s hear them then. What do you expect of me, Mr Bradley?”

Matt slung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer. “Only two absolutes, poppet, the rest we can negotiate on. The first is you must love me, always.” He smiled when her grimace disappeared. “The second is to allow me free reign to do whatever necessary to keep you happy.”

She smiled at him. It started small but blossomed into a wide smile that made Matt feel as if he was the luckiest man alive.

“Oh,” he added as an afterthought. “And when we’re married, you’ll be taking my name. I don’t believe in all that dross where a woman retains her maiden name.”

Madi gave him a look and he chewed his lower lip. It was a fierce look.

“We’ll negotiate on that issue,” he said, and she nodded with a snort. Matt grinned and laid his head against hers, blowing wisps of her hair from his nose. He had asked and she had said yes. His life was complete.