Page 2 of Lovers' Dance

“You’re not some crazy person are you?” I asked as he held the door open for me.

He arched an eyebrow at me. “Which part of the States are you from? Your accent is quite prominent.”

I blinked, leaning against the car. “New York. Why? You got something against Americans?”

He gestured to the open car door. “Not at all. What are you doing in London? Besides getting attacked in alleyways, that is.”

I peered at him, the beginnings of a frown curling my bruised mouth downward. “Stuff.” My face ached, my whole body ached. I wanted to go home to have a shower before calling my best friend.

“Stuff?” he queried, gently pushing me into the car. He closed the door and hurried around to the driver’s side as I took in the sleek interior of the car.

“I’m Matt, by the way,” he said, once he’d gotten in and buckled up. His gym bag and my purse had been tossed on the backseat and he waited to start the engine. I caught him staring pointedly at the seatbelt. I buckled up. The engine purred into life.

“I’m Madison, but everyone calls me Madi.” I shifted uncomfortably in the seat. My back ached something fierce and I was shaking. “Look, Matt, I don’t want to go to the hospital. Can you take me to London Bridge station and I can make my way home from there?”

I could see he wasn’t happy with that suggestion. His side profile tightened as we pulled away from the curb. I felt sick to the stomach as the reality of what had almost happened to me started to sink in. Oh, God. My head fell forward, chin resting on my chest and a warm line of moisture snaked down my cheek.

“Okay, Madi,” Matt said softly, gaze jumping between me and the road. “If you’re certain that’s what you want. Although I think you should—”

“It is.” I cut him off quickly. “Thank you.”

He fell silent. I closed my eyes and tried not to dwell on how close I’d come to a serious assault, or worse, tonight. I was seriously starting to hate this country. I wriggled about until it felt comfortable and felt myself slipping into sleep. I would rest my eyes until we got into Central London, then I would get the next tube home and forget this night had happened.

A tired groan left my lips, reluctant alertness seeping in while I opened my eyes to encounter an intense stare. A frightened yelp left my mouth as I flung myself back against the car door.

“Madi,” he said soothingly. “I’m Matt. Remember?”

I inhaled and exhaled loudly a few times and nodded while glancing outside the car. This was not Central London.

“Where are we?” I asked in alarm, unbuckling myself and reaching back for my purse. Oh, God. He was a psycho.Have to stay calm…get out his car…and run like hell.

Matt eyed me for a second, seeing the way I clutched my purse to my chest and my free hand searching frantically for the damned door handle.

“Outside my home—” he managed to get out before I opened the door. Matt grabbed my right wrist, and I swung back to punch him in the eye, purse and all. He winced and swore under his breath.

“That’s the second time you’ve done that tonight,” he ground out, then tried to calm me down as I pulled against his hold. “You fell asleep. I couldn’t wake you. I couldn’t dump you out of the car, and I have no idea where you live. You refused to go to the hospital, and I’m covered in dried vomit. What was I to do?”

“Not bring me back to your home,” I almost yelled at him, then burst into tears. It was the darned shock. I didn’t cry. I was tough, not a snivelling girl crying over being roughed up in that stupid alley. Nothing really bad had happened besides me getting beaten up. They hadn’t even tried to steal my purse. And Matt had appeared like some knight, he’d chased them off. Yet, here I was acting crazy when all he’d done was save my bacon.Shit.Way to go representing my people. Blubbering like an inane idiot in front of the white man.

“Sorry,” I said, in between my sobs. “It’s been a long night.”

Matt let go off my wrist, but only to lift my chin up so he could observe my face solemnly. “I promise I won’t hurt you, Madi. I’ll take you home, but I need to get changed. You can wait in the car if you want.”

I swallowed nervously and shook my head. “No. I trust you. You saved me from those jerks. I trust you, Matt.”

He smiled at me, and I swear he looked like an angel. A dark angel in a vomit and perspiration-stained sweatshirt, with either blue or grey eyes, and tender hands.

“Good, let’s go inside.” He reached for his door. We both got out and I looked up at his place. Oh, crap. It looked fancy.

“Where are we?” I asked, while he grabbed his gym bag from the back.

“Kensington,” he replied, motioning me forward. I gripped my purse and walked over to him. He helped me up the steps and opened the door before herding me in. I stood in a wide foyer as he turned on the lights, turned off the alarm and dropped his bag on the floor.

“This is nice,” I mumbled, a bit taken aback at the expensive décor, and we were only in the foyer.

“Mmm,” he muttered, distracted as he kicked off his sneakers and plucked at his shirt with that semi-disgusted look on his face.

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