Page 18 of Lovers' Dance

Matt clicked the link, the beat of a song he’d never heard pumping out of the laptop. His eyes widened as he watched the movements of the dancers on the screen. He watched her, and his body instinctively reacted to her dancing. She was limber, hips shaking in a manner that made him want to… He cleared his throat, there was something lodged in it. Who knew a person could choke on lust? Matt shifted in his seat, hunching over slightly to hide the growing bulge in his khaki pants. He cleared his throat again before clicking on the website’s blog page. Better not to watch her dancing like that; later, when he was alone. Yes, later.

“It says here there’s an upcoming snap dance? What’s snap dance?” Matt queried, feeling old. “Is this a new craze or something?”

“I thought so, too, but, if you scroll down to past blogs and click the link—wait, click that one—no, the one before it. Snap dance in Euston.”

Matt clicked the link. A video of the busy station popped up. He looked over his shoulder at Nathan. “It’s a video of inside Euston station.”

“Wait for it. Watch the crowds, see how the camera’s focusing on the entrance to the Underground.”

Matt turned his attention back to the screen. He didn’t have to wait long. A masked group of ladies in ballet costumes came running out, startling the surrounding crowds who started gaping at them in curiosity. They began to dance in the middle of the station, much to the enjoyment of the crowd. It went on for about ten minutes before security began to appear. The surrounding people were clapping loudly as the tutu-wearing women dispersed, darting through the crowds as they made their escape. A policeman gave chase to one, but she leaped over someone’s suitcase and nimbly evaded capture. The picture faded out with the words: ‘Bringing dance to the people.’

“How delightfully interesting.” Matt decided he was intrigued by this woman he’d saved. “It says here there’s an upcoming snap dance this Friday. What an unusual name to call it—”

“I thought so myself,” Nathan agreed as he moved back to his seat. “I know what you’re thinking, Matt.”

“What am I thinking?” Matt asked lightly, scrolling through the website. He made a mental note of their opening hours. It would come in useful in the future.

“You’re planning on seeing her again.”

“So what if I am? I don’t see how that concerns you, especially since you’re the one responsible for this mountain of information I’m looking at.”

Nathan’s face twisted into a scowl. “I wouldn’t have looked for her if I had known she was—”

“Was what, Nathan?” Matt asked in that same relaxed tone.

Nathan wasn’t fooled for a second. He noticed the flash of temper in Matt’s eyes and amended his answer. “So young.”

“She’s twenty-six, not sixteen,” Matt shot back. And his sweet virgin, he added mentally. He flicked through the file again, finding that picture of her. He was going to make her his. Madison DuMont was his, she just didn’t know it yet.

“Matt,” Nathan warned. “I know that look on your face.”

Matt smiled. “Don’t worry, Nathan. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“Huh.” Nathan snorted, shaking his head. “Just to be clear, you’re going to shag her, buy her something nice and ridiculously expensive, then get on with your life. Right? You’re not going to deviate from the usual modus operandi.”

Matt laughed, nodding to his friend. “Yes, Nathan, I’m going to shag her and buy her something nice before continuing on with my unbearably boring life.”

“Make sure she signs a non-disclosure clause, too,” he added. “Heaven forbid this gets out. Matthew Bradley suffering from a dose of jungle fever.”

Matt lowered his brows in distaste. “Did you actually just say that?”

Nathan nodded. “That’s nothing in comparison to what the press will write if they find out. Remember the headlines nine years ago when the media found out about you and that Norwegian model? That was the reason your solicitors convinced you to draw up the clause.”

“They won’t find out,” Matt said, gaze drawn to the picture of her. “Stop worrying.”

Nathan shook his head and stood up. “I’m leaving. Bella’s parents invited us over for supper. Her father has been dropping hints about a possible engagement, future grandkids.” Nathan sighed out loud, fixing a tired blue-eyed stare on his closest friend. “We’re getting old, mate.”

Matt laughed. “Yes, we are. Thankfully, I don’t look it. You should marry Bella, she’s good for you.”

Nathan smiled. Never had truer words been spoken. His smile wavered at the talk of marriage. “What about you? Your parents are eager to see you wedded to Louisa. Portia called me last week, said it was my responsibility as your friend to make sure you did the right thing, the expected thing.” Nathan shuddered. “Your mother scares the living daylights out of me. Always has.”

Matt squashed the immediate spurt of resentment as he thought about his parents. They were getting overbearingly insistent, to the point where he’d deliberately missed the last two family functions. He knew what was expected of him. Both his father and grandfather had ambushed him at the twins’ birthday party a few months ago, droning on about their family heritage and the responsibility each male Bradley had to ensuring their family prospered. Then they had started talking about the next generation of Bradleys and Matt had stopped paying attention. He was thirty-six, not ninety-six; he had time before settling down.

“Screen her calls,” he replied dryly. Nathan gave him a dirty look and Matt shrugged. “Change your mobile number then.”

“Why don’t you talk to them? Tell them you’re not sure Louisa is the one for you.”

It was Matt’s turn to shoot Nathan a dirty stare. “And risk being ostracized? They’ve only started speaking to Adam this past year. Look, Louisa and I are going to happen, though I’m loathe to have Jack Gilliford as my father-in-law. She’s the most suitable woman to carry the Bradley name and give my parents the next grandchild they’re so eager for. Plus, I’m certain merging our fortunes will make her so happy she’ll be more than willing to overlook any of my future indiscretions.”

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