Page 14 of Duke, Actually

“What can I say? I am the full package. I’m also good in bed.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had good reviews.”

She snorted. “How do you know your reviewers weren’t blinded by your good looks and your castle full of gold? How do you know they weren’tlying?”

Perhaps they were.Max had his faults, but he liked to think self-delusion wasn’t one of them, so he contemplated the prospect. “While I understand the concept of ‘faking it,’ I like to think I’d be able to tell if they wereallfaking.”

She burst out laughing, which was rather a blow to the ego, and he found himself in the rare position of not knowing what to say.

He didn’t have to say anything, though, because she stopped abruptly and looked around. “We overshot,” she declared, and steered him back the way they had come. Half a block later they came to a stop in front of a brick walk-up.

“Allow me to escort you to your apartment,” he said.

“You don’t have to.” She was holding her keys really close to her eyes.

“And yet I do.”

“And yet you don’t.” She tripped over her own feet.

He caught her and gently pried her keys out of her grasp. “Indulge me.”

Chapter Three

When Dani awoke the next morning, it was to a headache and a note from Max.

The note was written on a business card propped up against a bottle of Advil on her nightstand. There was a large glass of water there, too, and her phone, plugged into a charger. She reached for the card, but she forgot to do her usual stealth roll, so Max woke up and started yapping happily.

“Oh, Max,” she moaned, not sure if she was moaning in dismay at Dog Max’s barks piercing her brain or in gratitude at Human Max for putting the Advil within arm’s reach. “Good morning, my love.” That was definitely directed at Dog Max. She kissed his head and tried to get her eyes to focus.

I took your dog out last night before I left, Human Max had scrawled on the card in navy ink that looked like it had come from a fountain pen. His handwriting was tall and angular—like him. He’d drawn an arrow, which prompted her to turn the card over.Thanks for an epic evening. –M.

She turned the card back over. It was a minimalist businesscard, embossed with only his name, and the nickname version at that:Max von Hansburg. No titles of either the occupational or hereditary variety. Then a phone number, which she supposed she already had, since he’d texted her, and an email address that, surprisingly, was a Gmail one.

She grabbed her phone, expecting there might be a text from him, but there wasn’t. She wondered how much longer he was in town.

Yap yap yap!

“Yes, yes, okay, sweetie.” She generally tried to get up stealthily and ingest a coffee before Max woke up, because once he was awake, he would not shut up until he got to go out for a pee.

She rolled herself out of bed. She was wearing pajamas she had no memory of changing into, which wasn’t surprising because she also had no memory of Max being here and leaving her a bedside note. Oh, wait. Hang on. An image flashed into her mind.

She went out to the kitchen, and—nope. It was neat as a pin. Still, she could have sworn... Even though the rest of the evening after their arrival at her place was fuzzy, she had a memory of buttery bread and—

Her phone dinged.

Max:What are you doing tonight?

Dani:Making fruitcake.

That she still had to buy ingredients for. All right. Dog peeing, coffee, fruitcake-ingredient shopping. She shrugged into a coat and stuffed her feet into boots.

Max:Incorrect.

Dani:What do you mean?

A picture came through. She squinted at it as she clipped a leash onto Max. It looked like a ticket of some sort. By the time they were downstairs and he was doing his business, Human Max had sent another text.