Lovers' Dance (19 page)

“Arrivederci,” the man called with a vigorous wave as he started the boat’s engine.

Matt slipped an arm around my waist and waved goodbye. We stood there until the boat sailed out of the iron gates. Matt turned and I got a face-full of yummy chest. I tilted my head back to look up at him. Damn. It never failed to take my breath away, his handsomeness.

“So,” he drawled, leaning down to run his tongue lightly over my parted lips. The bag slipped from my hand and I wrapped my arms around his waist.

“What shall we do first?” he asked with a decidedly devilish quirk to his mouth.

I grinned. He grinned. In a movement so quick it had happened before I could react, he tossed me over his shoulder.

“Matt,” I shrieked, upside down and clinging to him like a monkey. “Put me down, you oaf.”

He ignored my shouts to be released and headed for the door.

“Our bags,” I yelled, head bouncing over his back. “Matt, put me down this instant.”

“
Salve, Signor Bradley, e bene avere qui.
”

I jerked at the sound of a strange male voice, then frantically tried to maintain an upside down one-armed hold on Matt while tugging my dress down tight.

“Good morning, Antonio. Our bags are back there. I trust everything is prepared as to my specifications?”

“
Si, si, Signor Bradley
.”

“Capital,” Matt replied as he adjusted my weight on his shoulder. “Have lunch prepared for around one. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

My head bounced as Matt strode to the open door and entered the house. The upside down view I had probably didn’t do it justice, but I did like the marble flooring.

“I’m going to be sick,” I warned, hoping the threat would cause him to release me from the undignified position I was currently being held in. The rush of blood to my head, the bumping into his back as he easily took the stairs, the champagne I had imbibed during our trip here…it would serve him right if I hurled all over his ass.

“Here we are, poppet.”

“Oof.” The air hissed out of me as I was unceremoniously dumped on top of a huge bed. The room spun crazily for a second while I began to berate him. “You are the most insufferable man—” My words were cut off as he climbed on top of me and devoured my lips with his own.

“Is that any way to talk to your knight?” he teased. Matt was pulling his shirt off, while I lay dazed beneath him. It was embarrassing the way his kisses left me speechless. “Oh, poppet, we’re going to have fun this week.”

He stopped talking, finding something else far more enjoyable to do with his mouth, and I forgot why I was mad with him moments later…

<><><>

“I’m going to crash your boat, Matt,” I called in warning, glancing over my shoulder to where he lounged reading papers. His wind-tousled head rose up for a moment, calculating the distance between us and the oncoming boat.

“You’re fine, Madi. Keep your heading straight.” He resumed his reading.

I grimaced behind my shades and spat curls out of my mouth. The wind was picking up even though the early morning skies were bright blue without a cloud in sight. I had no idea what I was doing, so I maintained my death grip on the wheel and hoped to God we didn’t crash. Matthew Bradley was the craziest man I’d ever encountered. And the sweetest, I mentally added, while marvelling at the sparkling ocean and the other boats around. A girl could get used to this lifestyle. It was day three into our holiday and I was having the time of my life. Matt’s whole demeanour had undergone a startling transformation. He was so relaxed one would be forgiven for thinking narcotics had played a part. I took another look over my shoulder, experiencing a spurt of girlish delight at the man who had whisked me away from the mounting stress in England. He had picked up a golden tan over his muscular body, and the dark-blue swimming shorts he wore seemed to make it more apparent. The wind blew through his black hair, playfully whipping the silky locks around his head. A memory of his strong arms wrapped around me had me squirming in my bikini bottoms. The realization that I was stupidly falling for him had dawned yesterday morning when we’d been having breakfast. Matt had plucked a flower from the vase in the centre of the table and tucked it behind my ear before finishing his cup of tea and disappearing with Antonio to discuss the water levels under the house. It wasn’t really a house, more like a palatial abode for a rock star. I was afraid to touch anything for fear of breakage. Matt thought it was cute the way I minced around his vacation home. Antonio wasn’t the only member of staff at our disposal. There was a woman, Rosa, whose job was chef maid; how she did it all, I had no idea. And an old man, Franco, whose job I hadn’t guessed, was always hovering around and reminded me of an Italian version of George.

“Eyes front, Madi,” Matt murmured, peering at me from over his shades. I stuck my tongue out at him, but resumed staring frontward at the open waters, death grip in place. The approaching boat was almost upon us, and I let out a high-pitched squeal which had Matt tossing down his newspapers and hurrying over.

“Relax, poppet.” he said, coming behind me and resting his hands over mine on the wheel. I exhaled in relief as the boat went past without collision, letting my body melt against Matt’s and thoroughly enjoying his breath fluttering over my ear. “You’re a natural.”

I scoffed in disbelief, then asked, “What are we doing after sailing?”

“Mmm, I can think of a few things,” Matt murmured, while dropping one hand to my hip.

“Nuh uh, mister. All we’ve done for the past three days is laze around in that palace of yours and eat pasta.”

His touch on my hip became insistent. “Best three days of my life so far.”

I laughed at that, got a mouthful of hair and spluttered unattractively. Matt fiddled with the ties on my bikini bottoms, and I promptly smacked his hand away. He sighed loudly before putting it back on the wheel, taking control of the boat with me standing in the circle of his arms.

“We’ll go into the city today, if you want,” he said in a long-suffering tone.

“I want,” I replied, turning around to  face him. The reflection staring from his shades surprised me. That couldn’t be me. I looked damned happy.

Heartache, heartache, a shitload of heartache
, my mind chanted mercilessly.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you shopping in Milan. Would you like that, poppet?”

I reached up to slide my shades down my nose. “Which woman wouldn’t? But I’m not spending a ridiculous amount of money—”

“You won’t have to spend a penny,” he interrupted.

The shades were off completely as I chewed my lower lip in discomfort. The money issue had reared its head. Awkward.

“Thanks for the offer but, no, I don’t want you spending money on me.”

Matt shrugged, attention on the water and not on my uneasy expression. He was deliberately ignoring me. Impressive considering I was literally centimetres away. “I’ll do whatever I want. No sense getting worked up over it. Are you hungry? We left before breakfast this morning and Rosa has made us a basketful of goodies.”

“Did you gloss over my last comment?” I asked, bare feet tapping the deck.

“Yes, I did,” Matt confirmed, without a sliver of remorse as he shut off the engine. “We’ll drop anchor here and have something to eat. Then I’ll show you how to handle the boat in open water.”

My mouth was hanging open. Matt laughed, raising a hand to shut my jaw and moving his shades so they nestled atop his head.

“You are, without a doubt,” he said cheerfully, “the most delightful woman I’ve ever met.”

“Delightful, my ass,” I muttered.

Matt gripped my chin, intense grey eyes roving over my face. “That’s delightful, too, poppet, but I’m serious. You are fast becoming a fixture in my life, and we need to have a frank discussion about that.”

I stilled, unsure where he was going with this. He didn’t seem relaxed anymore; tense was a better description for the vibes he was giving off. I ducked my head, not wanting to have the talk with him. The ‘what do you think is happening between us’ talk. The talk where he verbally clarifies that fun things must come to an end, or worse, one where he wants to keep me as a secret bit on the side. I couldn’t bear that, even though that was exactly what I was right now. Knowing it and having it spelt out were two completely different things.

“I’m hungry, Matt. Let’s go eat,” I said brightly and ducked under his arms before heading to the stairs leading to the lower deck.

<><><>

Matt couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was absolutely stunning in her dress and earning more than a fair share of appreciative male glances as she tossed her head back, laughing in delight at whatever the grey-haired Italian man had whispered in her ear. Matt sauntered over, drinks in hand and wearing his usual aloof smile. The dirty, old man was hitting on her, not that he could blame him. The strapless green gown fitted her perfectly, cinching at her waist to reveal the enticing lines of her figure, and the contrast against her smooth, chocolate skin was mouth-watering. Matt stifled a laugh, remembering the look of horror on her face when he dragged her into the Valentino store, intent on seeing that dress in the window on her instead of the mannequin. She had flat out refused to let him purchase anything, only relenting when he threatened to leave her stranded in the city. When they’d entered the next store, her eyes lit up in shameless delight. He felt no reservations in spending his money on three pairs of what he thought were ridiculously over-priced Manolo Blahnik shoes. The child-like giddiness on her face was worth it. The amount he’d spent in the shops was a drop in the ocean where his finances were concerned.

Matt had made the decision to cut short their early morning sail and take the train into Milan. During breakfast, she had seemed unusually withdrawn and it didn’t sit well with him that his dark beauty wasn’t smiling. So, wanting her bubbly demeanour to return, he notified her of the change in plans, hoping it would improve her mood. It worked. They donned baseball caps and shades, and she’d joked they were incognito. Matt had toyed with the idea of broaching the topic of their secret relationship, but was unwilling to risk spoiling her mood. He could wait a while longer, wait for the right moment to present itself, then demand—no, not demand—ask her to consider being in an open relationship with him. It was a lot to ask. Being with him would mean her life would be open to public scrutiny, and Madi didn’t seem the type to adapt to the sort of publicity he’d faced over the years. If she said no…Matt shoved that thought away. She wouldn’t say no.

“Here’s your drink, poppet,” he murmured on arriving at her side. He arched an eyebrow at the man old enough to be his father as she took her glass with a grateful smile. Matt asked the stranger in fluent Italian whether he thought he could steal his woman away from right under his nose. When the old man burst into raucous laughter and slapped Matt good-naturedly on the back, Madi’s gaze swung suspiciously between them.

“Forgive me,” the grey-haired man gushed. He’d obviously had one drink too many. “But she is
una bella giovane donna
.” He lapsed into his native Italian and clobbered Matt on his back. The man turned to Madi, hands flying up to grab her shoulders before either her or Matt could react, and kissed both her cheeks with flourish. “
Bella.
”

“Enough of that,” Matt warned with a friendly smile, but he did step closer to her and slipped a proprietary arm around her waist. Old or young, Matt didn’t want any other man touching his poppet. Ever.             

“Making friends?” he asked after the man stumbled away. She turned into his body, face raised and grinning impishly at him. So damn beautiful, he thought to himself.

“What did you say to him?” she asked, brown eyes alit with curiosity.

“To sod off before I kicked his arse.”

“You didn’t.” She glanced in the direction where the man had headed, then looked at him.

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I should have. Bloody man taking liberties with you. I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night.”

Madi pressed herself closer to him, and Matt suddenly didn’t want to spend another minute here. The party had been suggested by Franco. Matt wanted to take her dancing, but somewhere he wouldn’t run the risk of running into anyone he knew. When people found out about them, it would be on their terms, not due to someone spotting him, then gossiping about it.

He tightened his arm around her and tossed back his non-alcoholic drink. “Do you want to go?”

She leaned back in surprise, forehead furrowing as she observed him closely. Matt winked at her and watched the realization dawn on her face.

“Let’s go.”

“Good,” he muttered, relieving her of the untasted drink and propping it on the low wall where they stood. “I’ve got a raging you-know-what and it’s entirely your fault.”

“Matt,” She gasped, head darting around to check if he’d been overheard. “You can’t say those things in public.”

“I just did, poppet. Let’s find the fastest gondola in Venice and call it a night.”

She huffed for a moment, then beamed at him, slipping her hand into his as they left the jovial crowd behind. They walked about five minutes before she let out a sharp cry of alarm and stumbled against him. Matt instinctively righted her movements before she fell.