CHAPTER 6
“Are you nervous ?”
I shook my head and wiped my sweaty palms over the black jeans I wore.
“It’s ok to be nervous, poppet.” Matt assured me, reaching over to take one of my hands in his.
He ran his thumb over my knuckles and smiled.
It was a great smile.
“I’m not.” I lied, less than magnificently.
Matt chuckled, he wasn’t buying it and that was understandable.
I was silently freaking out.
“Are you nervous, Matt?”
He shook his head and laced his fingers through mine.
“Not at all.”
“Mmm, ok.” I said and let my gaze wander around the inside of the church.
It was a small church and very quiet.
The altar was a mix of cream and white marble.
The pews dark wood and uncomfortable to sit on.
I liked the stained glass windows, the sunlight streaming through them caused a myriad of colours to dance across the floor.
Matt twisted around at the sound of heels clicking sharply.
I turned too and watched his secretary, who had earned the title of superwoman in my eyes.
Rachel had been the one who organized my moving into Matt’s place.
In one day she had people come in, sort out my belongings and delivered them to Matt’s home.
The following two days my home had been redecorated and ready for rental.
My head was still spinning from the speed in which things had been done.
And now she was making her way over to us with a satisfied smirk on her face and a box in one hand, her cell was glued to the other.
Her business suit was hidden under her buttoned up winter coat.
Yes, definitely a modern day superwoman.
“The rings, Mr Bradley.” she said, holding them out to Matt.
“I have spoken to the vicar and he will be ready to perform the ceremony in half an hour. Now concerning your schedule,” Rachel glanced at her smart phone.
“I have cleared everything for the next three weeks as per your instruction.”
“Good.” Matt took the offered box and my eyes were suddenly transfixed to it in a macabre sort of way.
Oh God.
“And the necessary preparations are underway for your departure tomorrow morning. I have requested a maximum of eight staff, excluding the captain, to accompany you when you set sail.”
Matt frowned and Rachel fidgeted in her heels.
He tapped the box against his knee and said, “That’s nine, excluding Madi and I. Nine is too much, Rachel. I would at least like to have the illusion of privacy on my honeymoon.”
Oh God.
Oh God.
My breathing was coming faster now.
“Your yacht is large enough for you to have that illusion, Mr Bradley.” she shot back quickly.
I expected Matt to cut her down to size, but he simply nodded and gave her an amused look.
“I have also planned out an itinerary-”
“Rachel,” Matt was definitely amused.
“You have not planned my honeymoon.”
She blushed prettily.
Ha, bet she would love to have a skin tone that hid those two spots of colour on her cheeks.
“Uh, no, Mr Bradley. I shall leave those details up to you and the captain.”
“Very good.” Matt replied, squeezing my now cold hand.
Oh God.
“I’ve also arranged some clothing for Ms DuMont to change into before the vicar arrives.”
Upon hearing that my nerves went into hyper drive.
“C-clothes? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” My jeans were nice, as were my red ankle boots.
And I loved this vermillion cowl neck top.
My clothes matched my engagement ring.
Plus I had a coat on, there was no need for clothing.
Oh my God.
Matt squeezed my hand again and brushed Rachel’s suggestion aside with a breezy, “Madi’s fine as she is. Have you sorted out the financial aspect with the church?”
She nodded in affirmation then focused on her ringing cell.
“One moment, Mr Bradley. It’s the office.” She turned away as she answered, crisply telling the person on the other line that Matt was unavailable and to forward some reports to her.
I liked Rachel.
She was only a year younger than me and from what Matt implied was very good at her job.
I had always wondered about his executive secretary.
I mean, come on.
Powerful businessmen usually had dalliances with their office staff.
Especially secretaries, be they executive or not.
Hell, powerful businesswomen did the same thing.
But I liked Rachel.
“Poppet,” Matt let go of my hand and gripped my chin, tilting my face towards his.
“Are you sure you want to do this? Today?”
I nodded with less conviction than I had when we drove past this cute little church an hour ago.
Oh shit.
Had it only been an hour ago?
So much had happened since I made that off-hand comment.
‘ I swear if that cute church was open, Matt, I would marry you right now .’
I should have known what would happen from the moment Matt had slammed on the brakes and grinned at me.
I would never forget that grin of his.
It was a mix of determination and growing triumph.
Determination because he was going to do damn near everything in his power to make it happen; triumph because he was going to hold me to that vow.
I had woken up early this morning as he was getting dressed for work.
The bed was lonely without him so using my feminine wiles, i.
e.
kicking off the covers and sticking my ass in the air, I lured him back in bed and convinced him to play hooky for the day.
After a quickie, Matt decided we should take advantage of the forecasted sunny day, even though it was a bitterly cold one.
He wanted to drive to the countryside and asked if I’d ever been to Runnymede in Windsor.
When I said no, the decision was made.
He was going to play tour guide, already chastising me for never visiting the Magna Carta Memorial.
He then proceeded to give me a history lesson about the Great Charter as he swapped his work shirt and tie for a casual shirt and pullover and some sexy ass jeans.
And that was how I ended up here, sat in the cute church and awaiting the vicar who would be marrying us.
I had only moved in to his place a few days ago.
Today was only the 12th of January, a Monday.
Was it weird to get married on a weekday?
“We can still stop this.” Matt advised quietly.
He was staring at the movements of my hands.
I stopped scratching my pinkie and peered at him.
“Cold feet, Mr Bradley?” I asked curiously.
Maybe the enormity of what we were about to do was finally sinking in.
“No,” Matt replied staunchly, putting that thought to bed.
“But I do have one request.”
Rachel was speaking in a low, hard voice on her cell.
She stalked off down the aisle, leaving us alone once more.
“I know you feel very strongly about keeping your maiden name,” Matt’s cheeks were tinged pink.
I doubted it had anything to do with the cold air inside the church.
“Uh hmm?” I fought the urge to fold my arms and sat calmly as Matt edged closer to me on the seat.
“But I was hoping you would,” he stopped to take a deep breath.
“I want you to take my name. I want you to be my wife in every sense of the word.”
My arms were folded now, I couldn’t help it.
“And you don’t have to change everything,” he said earnestly.
It was sort of cute.
“Just on the electoral roll, I don’t expect you to change it for tax purposes…unless you want to-”
“Matt,” I started, but he placed a finger against my lips.
“Just hear me out, poppet.” He wore that single-minded look that usually signified he was intent on getting his own way.
“It would mean the world to me if you took my name.”
“Mwone conwition.” I mumbled.
“Pardon?” Matt removed his finger.
“One condition,” I said, licking my lips.
“Anything.” he agreed immediately.
“I get presidential veto on all future major decisions. I’m talking life-changing decisions. Deal?”
Matt narrowed his eyes at me, instinctively sensing the trap.
Oh yeah, I wanted the power.
“I want to put a clause in,” he negotiated.
“Let’s hear it then,” I drawled.
“But remember you’re the one asking for something, not the other way around.”
“I’ll give you presidential veto, but I retain the right to challenge and overrule said presidential veto whenever you’re being unreasonable.”
“What?” I spluttered, not appreciating the ‘unreasonable’ title.
I wasn’t unreasonable.
Level-headed was my middle name.
“Then what’s the point of me having presidential veto if you can overrule it? Who decides if I’m unreasonable?” Yes, I used air quotations.
“I do, of course,” Matt said matter-of-factly.
“Deal?”
I gave him a dirty look and he smiled at me, blinking those long lashes of his and slinging an arm over my shoulder.
“I’m keeping my da- name.” I stopped the curse in time.
No swearing in church.
“I’ll rub your feet every single night.” Matt propositioned me.
“And your back.”
I rolled my eyes, although the rubbing of the feet offer was making me waver.
“And I promise to keep your interaction with my parents to the absolute bare minimum. Once a year-”
“Deal.” I agreed in an instant.
What’s in a name after all?
In my head I’ll always be Madison DuMont, and if taking his name meant he’d keep his snotty parents away from me…
yeah, I could live with that.
“Deal?” Matt wanted verification it seemed.
“Deal,” I confirmed.
“But I’m only changing it on the electoral roll and by changing it, I really mean hyphenating it. Ok?”
He kissed the tip of my nose before pulling back with a pleased smile on his face, his ‘got my own way’ smile.
I wanted to renege on the deal right then to teach him a lesson, but, and this was crappy having to admit to myself, but a part of me did want to be Mrs Madison Bradley.
Ah, DuMont-Bradley, that is.
A part of me truly wanted to belong to him completely.
Fuck.
I should be ashamed.
It was the 21 st century, not the 19 th .
Matt’s coat pocket rang.
“One moment, poppet.” he said before retrieving his cell and glancing at the screen.
He gave me another quick kiss, this time my cheek.
“I’ll be right back, my driver is outside. He’s brought our documents.”
I watched as he answered the call and stood up, walking off to go meet Dan.
It felt weird not needing to have a license to get married, but it was the Church of England and we held British passports so it was no problem.
I thought banns had to be posted, but it seemed it didn’t matter.
Or maybe Matt’s donation to the church played a part in the vicar’s willingness to marry us on such short notice.
It had been a substantial donation and I wondered what Matt would do if ever there came a time when his money couldn’t solve a problem.
Were we really doing this?
I mean, this wasn’t Vegas!
Or Gretna Green, which is where people went to elope in the olden days over here.
Why was Scotland always popping into my head at the oddest times?
I shook my muddled head and began to reason with myself.
Point 1: we loved each other.
Point 2: we were intending to get married anyway.
Why not today?
Point 3: Bella said planning a wedding was stressful.
I didn’t want that sort of stress.
Point 4: I liked the fact it was just us.
I mean, yes, I had always imagined my family being there on the day.
Uncle David walking me down the aisle while Aunt Cleo cried happy tears.
Jenny would be a bridesmaid and Sol my maid of honour.
Dante and Bret would be groomsmen.
And I actually had a groom now…
in my fantasies the groom had been faceless, or it was Dante as the groom and Bret as best man.
Now I had my very own knight.
And my family didn’t like him, so they wouldn’t have been here anyway.
Point 5: it was good it was only us.
The thought of dealing with Matt’s family, ugh.
Well, his parents mainly, I wouldn’t put it past them to sabotage the wedding.
Point 6: it was great it was only us.
There would be no one to protest when the vicar asked if anyone objected to our union.
No media trying to sneak in and get pictures of my ass.
No hundreds of guests wondering if Matt had lost his mind in the jungle, yeah, a jungle fever reference.
Point 7?
I couldn’t think of another point so I twisted my engagement ring around my finger nervously.
We were doing this.
We were doing this today.
This was a good idea.
A great idea.
This way I wouldn’t have to deal with Matt’s unvoiced recriminations about not setting a date.
This was a fantastic idea.
This was freaking me the hell out.
A dose of calm from my rock was needed.
I pulled my cell out of my bag and called Dante.
It would be 5am in New York, hopefully D wouldn’t cuss me out for waking him.
It rang and rang until finally, “Hello?” It was a groggy hello, a touch annoyed too.
“Hi, Dante, it’s me.”
“Do you know - (I heard a yawn) - what time it is, sweet cheeks?”
“Yeah, ah, sorry to wake you but,” The words got stuck in my throat.
I heard another yawn then a sharp intake of air on Dante’s side.
“But what? Are you ok? Did something happen?” he sounded much more alert now and I could hear the loud creaking of his bed as he moved about.
“I’m fine,” I hastened to reassure him.
“Um, look, don’t freak out, but,” I paused to take a deep breath.
“Matt and I are getting married today.”
There was silence from Dante then a low, “Girl done lost her goddamned mind.” Then he got loud.
“You are kidding me? Right? This is a fucking joke. I’ve only been gone 10 days! What the fuck is going on over there? You’re joking, right?”
I winced at the increasing decibels of his voice.
“I’m not joking. We’re in the church right now-”
“You get your black ass the hell outta there.” he yelled.
“Are you serious right now? This is a wind up. Liam put you up to this? You guys think this is funny?”
“Dante,” I raised my voice a bit to be heard over his curses.
“We’re engaged and-”
“For all of two minutes.” he shouted.
“Was this his idea? That fucker. He’s making you do this, isn’t he?”
“Calm down.” I hissed before standing up to pace in front the pew.
“It was my idea-”
“Your idea? Your idea? Why? Why are you doing this?” His confusion came through loud and clear.
I shouldn’t have called him, this was not calming me down.
“I love him and what’s the point of waiting? I thought you were happy for me? You said you were.” The accusatory note I finished with drew another expletive from my best friend.
“You barely know the man,” Dante said harshly.
“I do.” I retorted, making sure I injected as much scorn as possible into my tone.
“This is bullshit.” Dante growled.
“I’m changing my ticket and flying back today.”
“Dante, stop,” I said in frustration.
“Look, maybe this is for the best. I do love him, truly I do-”
“You’re in love with sex and it’s clouding your judgement. Come on, Madi. Just slow down for a minute here.” Dante inhaled sharply.
“Just listen to me. He’s the first man you’ve ever slept with and that can be a heady feeling-”
“I’m not talking about this with you,” I cut him off, insulted by his inference the only reason I loved Matt was due to him being the first man to show me the pleasures of sex.
What we had was more than sex.
I was also completely embarrassed over the fact Dante knew I had been a virgin before Matt.
We were friends since yay high.
He knew everything about me.
“I’m sorry I called. Goodbye.”
“Madison Beatrix DuMont.” he yelled.
“Do not hang up this call.”
The use of my hated middle name halted me.
Gosh darn it.
Who in their right mind would stick Beatrix in their child’s name?
My parents must have been smoking something.
“Please, please, don’t rush this,” Dante implored.
“I’m sorry I overreacted before, you took me by surprise. Look, you love him, fine, whatever; but there’s no need to do this. Just wait, sweet cheeks.”
“Wait?” I asked.
“We’re getting married, sooner rather than later. I love him. Why must we wait?”
Dante sighed, long and hard.
“I- I don’t know him well enough, sweet cheeks. I don’t know if I can trust him with you. I – God. Please, just wait.”
My head snapped up at the sound of confident footsteps.
Matt was heading in my direction with a brown envelope in his hand and a happy smile on his face.
Matthew Bradley was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, and I wanted him to be mine.
Dante’s disapproval only served to confirm this.
“I have to go, Dante.”
“Madi. Wait-” his words were filled with raw desperation.
I hung up the call, schooling my face into a pleasant mask as Matt drew nearer.
“Who were you talking to?” he asked when he stood in front of me.
He reached for me with his free hand and I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his chest.
The cell phone in my hand was an unwelcome reminder of the conversation with Dante.
I shook my head against him, not wanting to discuss it.
“The vicar should be here soon,” Matt volunteered into the silence.
I nodded against his chest while he slipped his free hand into my coat to rub my back in soothing circles.
“You can still have a proper big wedding if you want, sweetheart. Last chance to back out.”
I leaned back to peer into his eyes.
The grey orbs were mesmerizing, so many times I’d found myself just lost, drowning in his eyes.
“Do you want to, Matt? Back out? I would understand-”
“No,” he cut me off gruffly.
“I’ve wanted you since the first night we met, I started falling in love with you that day in the pub,”
“When I called you a pompous old racist?” The scepticism on my face earned me a tender smile from him.
“When you stormed back in after your hasty departure,” His smile deepened and his eyes glinted with amusement.
“You were so furious and so utterly enchanting. I didn’t stand a chance.” He kissed my temple, the barest of touches.
“And since that day my love has only grown, so no, poppet. I’m not backing out of this. The sooner we’re married, the better.”
The tension in my body flowed away at his declaration and I tilted my head, wanting to seal his words with a kiss.
Matt avoided my lips with an accompanying wink, saying with sham sternness, “Not until we’re married, young lady. I am a gentleman, after all.”
That tore a laugh from my lips.
“Right. You weren’t one this morning.” He shrugged without an ounce of remorse and I laughed even more.
“I love you so much, Matt.” My own declaration was heartfelt as I pushed Dante’s words to the back of my mind.
I did know Matt.
Maybe not every single detail of the man he was, but I knew the most important thing and that was his love for me.
“The vicar has arrived.” Rachel’s voice came from a way behind us and the clicking of her heels paused as she took in our embrace.
Matt and I exchanged a long look, both grinning like kids, then I straightened my shoulders and eased out of his arms.
“Ok. I’m ready. Let’s do this. Let’s get married. This is good. Great, actually. I’m ready. Let’s do this.” Oh why did I sound like some jock trying to pep himself up for a game?
Matt arched one eyebrow at me, the corner of his mouth curled up slightly.
“Just breathe.”
I took a few deep breaths then smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden.
“I’m ready.”
Matt held his hand out to me.
“Let’s go meet the vicar, I’m sure he’ll have a few questions for us before we start and we’ll need to sign the paperwork.”
An hour later the vicar pronounced us man and wife.
Rachel clapped in delight, while Dan, who had been pressganged into being our second witness, beamed brightly.
“You may now kiss your bride.”
Matt and I stared at each other.
I was shocked at the wedding band in the place of my engagement ring and Matt just kept that intense gaze of his on my face.
I looked down at my hand and when I raised my head Matt swooped in, catching my mouth in a soul shattering kiss that robbed me of air and went on for ages.
Until the vicar delicately cleared his throat.
I think it was due to Matt’s wandering hands and my muffled whimpers of lust.
“Hello, wife,” Matt said in a husky tone, his face resonated with joy and I felt my thoroughly kissed lips widen into a smile.
I was a wife.
I was his wife.
“Hi, husband,” I giggled at that, giggled like a silly schoolgirl.
Oh the shame.
I needed to stop giggling at once.
I was a married woman now.
More giggles escaped.
Matt laughed and swept me up in his arms before spinning me around.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and planted kisses all over his face.
He stopped spinning and I grinned at him, hands cupping his cheeks.
“We’re married.” I said in disbelief.
“Yes, Mrs Bradley, we’re married.”
“DuMont-Bradley.” Came my reminder.
“Congratulations, Mr Bradley.” Rachel drew nearer and the flash of her smart phone startled me.
Matt frowned at her and she averted her eyes before saying with slight defiance, “For posterity.” Then she snapped a few more as Matt and I got lost in another kiss.
“I can’t believe we eloped.” I exclaimed when Matt lowered me to the ground.
He kept his arms around my waist, resting his forehead against mine and bestowing one of his killer smiles on me.
“It was your idea,” he teased.
“And I must say it’s the best idea you’ve had to date.”
I tried to scowl at him but my mouth wouldn’t obey.
Instead I grinned and kissed him.
“What do we do now, Matt?” I asked excitedly.
His smile slowly disappeared to be replaced by a look of such open longing that I felt my face heat up rapidly.
“Blushing?” he murmured with naughty thoughts simmering in his eyes.
“Ah, no. Shall we go to the Magna Carta Memorial now? That was the original plan after all and it’s not even midday as yet.”
Matt stepped back, keeping one arm around my waist as he beckoned to Rachel.
She came closer, her previous excitement was immediately replaced with a professional air.
“Rachel, please contact my family members and notify them their presence is requested at my Kensington home. Don’t reveal the reason why, but tell them to arrive,” Matt tilted his head at me.
“Let’s say around six-ish?” I just nodded in agreement.
He turned back to Rachel.
“And call George, tell him to have my chef prepare dinner for us all.”
“Yes, Mr Bradley. Is there anything else you need me to do?”
Matt glanced at me again and I shrugged.
Why was he looking at me?
I was still trying to process being married.
Oh my God.
“Crap.” I said, smacking my hand against my forehead.
I really wanted to use a stronger word but there was the church issue to bear in mind.
“What’s wrong, poppet?”
“People aren’t going to think this is a shotgun wedding, are they? Because I am not having that.”
Rachel laughed then immediately covered her mouth with one hand while her eyes jumped frantically from me to Matt.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs Bradley! I didn-”
“It’s fine.” I tried not to look stun.
Mrs Bradley.
Matt’s mom was going to kill me.
Correction, Mrs DuMont-Bradley, I hadn’t given up my maiden name.
I was still me, right?
Just someone’s wife now, but still me.
Rachel was still stressing and I elbowed Matt lightly.