Page 26 of Duke, Actually
“I’m sorry, Max,” Marie said quietly. “I really have left you in the lurch, haven’t I?”
“No, no. It’s quite all right. One of us might as well be married to someone they actually fancy.” He truly was happy for Marie and Leo. “But now that you’ve thrown me over”—he winked to show he was teasing—“I’m committed to my bachelorhood.”
“But you have to marry someone.”
“Ah, but I don’t.”
“What about the lineage?”
“What do I care about the lineage? If Sebastien’s children areanything like him, the estate will be better off in his branch of the family. I’ll do my best when my father dies, but you know I’ll make a perfectly awful duke.” He was trying to keep his tone light, but as always when he contemplated the prospect of inheriting, his chest started to feel heavy, which made his voice start to sound labored. “And as for my parents, all that matters is that they think I’m trying. I can string out the prospect of a match with Lavinia for at least a year or two.”
In his parents’ eyes, Lavinia von Bachenheim was perfect. Well, Marie, as a princess, had been perfect, but Mother and Father had rallied and were currently championing Lavinia. She was the younger sister of a wealthy and powerful Austrian family. She was studying at Yale but like her sister would no doubt make a “career” as a socialite. Everything about her met with his parents’ approval.
“And how was it meeting her?”
He shrugged. “It was fine.” In truth, he and Lavinia had had only a brief conversation, but it was enough to tell she had no sense of fun. She’d seemed both distracted and overly serious, which wasn’t a winning combination in Max’s eyes. He wasn’t looking for a wife, but had he been, a sense of humor, perhaps even of adventure, would have been a requirement. Even if he were on the market in earnest, Lavinia would not make the cut.
Lavinia would never make snow angels in Central Park.
When Leo called Dani early in the morning on Christmas Eve, she got right to the point. “Hi,” she said. “I think I need to get on an app.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too. What kind of app?”
“Sorry—Merry Christmas. A sex app.” She’d finished her grading a week ago, and in recent days she’d been experiencing . . . urges. Dani had spent the year and a half since Vince had left genuinely not interested in sex, or at least not sex with other people. She wasn’t totally dead inside—she did sometimes turn on old Patrick Swayze movies and, well . . . Now, though, she was suddenly contemplating the idea of having sex with an actual human male. How did a person make that happen?
“I think you’re supposed to call themdatingapps,” Leo said.
“I don’t want to date, though.”
“Oh, I’m aware. You should get the phrase ‘post-men’ tattooed on your forehead.”
She winced. Leo had been around when things were really bad, when Vince was moving his stuff out and Dani was fighting back tears. “Right. I’m still post-men. I just want to have sex.Withoutdating.”
“For real?” He sounded skeptical.
“What do you mean? Of course for real.”
“Last time you expressed interested in hooking up with someone, you only wanted to do it to get even with Vince.”
She laughed. “Right. No, I’m not talking about revenge sex.”
“Did Max do this to you?”
“What? No.”
Yes.It had been almost two weeks since the Central Park hug-with-a-side-order-of-calf-touching, and Dani was pretty sure that was what had started this. Incidental physical contact with an attractive man. But the origin of her newfound horniness was immaterial. Even though Max was apparently a master at the kindof no-strings encounter she was looking for, she wasn’t banging the baron. Heh.Banging the Baron.It sounded like a porno. “Why would you think this had anything to do with Max?”
“He’s here. He’s been here since he got back from New York. He told us you guys went toThe Nutcracker.” Left unsaid was that Danihadn’ttold him, and historically, Dani and Leo talked about everything. Though she’d told Leo about Max being her plus-one to the departmental party, she hadn’t told him about their outing the next day. She wasn’t sure why, just that Leo knew about her list, and to be honest, she didn’t like to think of herself as the kind of person who dropped everything when a baron dangled ballet tickets. She steered Leo back to the topic at hand. “Which app do I use? Tinder? Or one of those ones where they only let girls make the first move? Stumble? What is it called?”
“You’re asking me?Youwere the one who was always tellingmeto get on an app.”
“That advice was theoretical. I didn’t know which app.” She’d wanted to tip Leo out of his grief, to get him to live a little, to do more than work and take care of his sister. And then he met a goddamn princess and moved to Europe. Talk about overachieving. “But you’re right. WhyamI asking you?” There must be someone she could ask. There was Sinéad, but—
Hang on. There was the Baron She Would Never Bang. Ha. From porno to anti-porno. Hehadinvited her to be in touch if he could ever be of service. She stifled a laugh and forced herself to tune in to the rest of the conversation. After she and Leo had caught up and made a plan for a bigger chat tomorrow, including her family and Gabby and Marie, Dani hung up and consideredhow to broach the subject. Should she open with some kind of pleasantry? Thank Max again forThe Nutcracker? Nah, too deferential. Wish him a merry Christmas? Why bother? He hated Christmas. Better to get right to the point.
Dani:Hi. It’s Dani Martinez. Which app do you use for your man-whore activities?
Max:And a good day to you, too. Merry Christmas. Christ is risen, hallelujah, et cetera.