Page 214 of Lovers' Dance

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt,” Aunt Cleo said as they shook hands. I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding, relief blossoming inside me. So far so good.

“And those two are my cousins.” I finished the introductions. “Jamal and Jenny.”

“Hello,” Matt said in their direction. They both murmured hello back, eyeing my man with open curiosity. There was a pregnant pause between the six of us, and I was not about to let that shit fester.

“I’ve started on lunch, Auntie Cleo,” I gushed, drawing her attention from Matt back to me.

She smiled at me, beckoning me closer. “Let me have a look at you. Your uncle’s right. You’re nothing but skin and bones,” she chastised.

I gave her a feeble smile. Did no one appreciate the slender frame that was a requisite of my career? I couldn’t help my naturally slim body. God knows Aunt Cleo had tried to feed me up over the years.

Matt was wearing that pleasant smile of his as he watched me within the circle of my family.

“Dad,” Jenny said, wandering over to the large windows. “Those shifty looking people are still in that Escalade. Do you want me to call the cops? Why are they parked in front of the Johnsons’s anyway? I’m sure they don’t know them.”

Uncle David followed his daughter, frowning out the window. “Give it some time. If they don’t move, I’ll go have a word.”

Jamal rolled his eyes at Uncle David’s back and started heading for the kitchen. I exchanged a sheepish look with Matt. He looked embarrassed. I opened my mouth to explain and he mouthed “Don’t” to me.

“It’s good to be home,” I said, hugging Aunt Cleo. “I’ve missed you guys so much.”

She laughed, the throaty sound making me laugh, too. “Let’s go see what mess you’ve made in my kitchen.”

I grinned at Matt. This would be a great Thanksgiving…

Matt tried his best to keep the friendly smile on his face, but it was difficult. Madi’s family was different to what he was used to, and her cousins lacked the usual reserve he expected from someone who barely knew him. Jenny had asked him, without an iota of shame, why he couldn’t find someone his own age and whether he was Madi’s sugar daddy. A sharp look from Cleo had stopped her dead with that line of questioning though. She was only twenty-four but, still, such questions were frowned upon in his social circle. Matt looked across the table at Madi’s aunt. The woman who’d raised his poppet made him uneasy. The hard stares she’d been sending his way when Madi and her cousins weren’t looking made him uncomfortable. It didn’t help her husband was fully aware of it and seemed to be silently amused at his wife’s behaviour. The family resemblance between Madi’s cousins and their parents was strong. Jamal, a couple of inches shorter than Matt, had the same bulky build of his father. The same broad nose that flared a bit at the end. The same suspicious shine to their eyes whenever Madi turned his way with a tender smile, or when she touched his arm while speaking. Matt couldn’t hold it against them. As the men of this household, it was expected. Matt himself pitied the poor lads who would face the Bradley men when Terror and Trouble brought them home to meet the family. Of course, those lads would be from suitable families so the suspicious looks would not be as fierce as the ones he was currently getting. Bloody hell. You would think he was some evil corrupter of the innocent. His smile wavered as his conscience mocked him. He had in a strange way corrupted Madi’s innocence by taking her virginity. Bollocks. Did they know she had been a virgin?

“I can’t believe you said that to Mr Brown, Jenny,” Madi exclaimed, rolling her eyes at her younger cousin before looking at her aunt. “I hope you made her apologize, Auntie Cleo.”

“She did, and I made her volunteer at the nursing home two blocks over for good measure. No child of mine is going to shame our name.”

Madi laughed at Jenny’s petulant scowl, and Matt took a moment to peruse the young woman. She was a touch taller than his poppet, but in possession of a body like her mother. Bigger breasts and wider hips, with an arse that had Matt looking away when she had come back downstairs after changing into skin-tight jeans and t-shirt. Matt wasn’t quite sure what to think of her as yet. She was more outspoken than Madi and fully aware of her good looks, unlike Madi, whose unassuming nature seemed to magnify the sheer beauty that she was and made her all the more enticing. Jenny’s hair, like her mother’s, was different too, he noted. The texture much coarser, but worn natural with pride. Matt was definitely learning to appreciate the allure of a black’s woman hair. But, the way she smirked at him as she ate left him feeling slightly uncertain as to how friendly he should be with her.

Then there was Cleo. Aunt Cleo. Matt knew without a doubt the older woman did not like him. It was the manner in which she would phrase her comments when addressing him. It was subtle but Matt was used to picking up on hidden nuances in conversations. Endless board meetings with cutthroat businessmen had honed this talent over the years.

No, Cleo currently didn’t like him one bit, but that was irrelevant. By the time they flew back to England, she would be wrapped around his finger and praising her niece on her choice of men.

The other issue that was putting a strain on his smile was the interaction around the table. It seemed whenever the conversation dwelled on Madi’s life for too long, either one of her cousins would turn the topic in their direction. Madi simply went along with it. Matt realised she didn’t skip a beat; she would become interested in whatever they were saying, letting the focus fall on them and happy to shower them with supportive compliments. It irked him. She was the owner of a ballet company, in a foreign country, and bloody successful at it. Why was that being treated like nothing more than a passing fancy?

And the understated teasing the two siblings tossed her way. She would laugh with them and make a witty retort, but Matt didn’t like it.

It didn’t matter if he was uncomfortable with it though, all that mattered was the way Madi would smile at them, eager for unspoken approval as she constantly kept him involved in the conversation around the table.

“I betcha this is the first time Matt’s ever been seated on his own at a table with five black people having lunch,” Jamal said baldly. “As you can see, we don’t all have guns and try to mug you.”

Jenny covered her mouth with her hand, stifling her laugh.

“Jamal.” Madi glared at her older cousin, then swung a pleading gaze to her aunt. “Auntie Cleo.”

“Jamal,” Cleo warned. “That was rude. I didn’t raise you to act that way. It doesn’t matter if he’s probably never been around black folks, he’s here now and our guest. Behave yourself.”

Matt deliberately widened his grin, not overlooking the fact Cleo confirmed her son’s comment in a roundabout way. He touched Madi’s hand that rested lightly on the table before looking at them. “And I’m sure this is a first for you, too. Having lunch with an Englishman, that is. As you can see, we don’t all have horrendous teeth and constantly harp on about the weather; that being said, it’s unseasonably warm in New York for this time of year, don’t you think?” Flashing his perfectly straight white teeth, Matt eyed Jamal with amusement.

David’s booming laughter immediately rang out and Madi started to choke. At first, Matt thought she was trying to control her laughter but, after a quick sideways glance at her, it became apparent she was actually choking.

“Bloody hell, poppet.” Matt thumped her on the back as she grabbed her glass of water. “Are you okay?”

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