Page 82 of Duke, Actually

She’d missed Max these recent days. They’d seen each other only in passing, and though they’d been texting up a storm, it wasn’t the same. She had gotten used to the rhythms of him. Of banter and silence, of attention and retreat. In fact,attention and retreatpretty much summed up their entire relationship. Max could talk her ear off and make her never want to stop talking, but he could also create attic garrets and give her long stretches of time alone so she could work. She tried to tell herself that when she went back to New York, it would merely be a longer episode ofretreat. She would see him again. Probably when he next decided to pop into town for a party—be it one of hers or one of his.

She didn’t like thinking about his parties, the places he picked up artists or met potential brides.

He tilted his head, and his smile changed. It didn’t go away, not entirely, but it grew kind of... wistful?

Damn, she was going to miss him.

“So how’s the online ‘dating’ going?” Leo asked, startling her. Dani withdrew her attention from Max—it was harder than it should have been—and turned to Leo. Apparently, the lovebirds were done with whatever it was they’d been whispering about.

“It’s on hold. I’ve decided to wait until I’m officially divorced.”

Leo frowned. “Why?”

She sighed. She didn’t really want to get into it.

“It’s okay if you aren’t ready,” Leo said.

Dani tamped down a flash of annoyance. Now they were going to have to talk about her too-high standards, or her uncharacteristic prudishness, or whatever spin Leo was going to put on it. She was going to have to trot out her line about how she was planning to jump the first man she laid eyes on after the divorce was final, ha ha ha.

“Honestly,” Max said brightly, “I have to endorse Daniela’s method—from experience, alas. Did I ever tell you about the time when I was at Cambridge and I developed a bit of rapport with one of the librarians there? Well. She was not quite divorced, and let me tell you, that was a mistake.”

Off he went with his story. He knew she didn’t want to talk about her dating life, or lack thereof, so he was distracting everyone. Drawing their attention with tales of his own misdeeds, just as he had done for his brother throughout their childhood.

It struck her as funny that Max knew the real reason she was hesitating on the online-dating front—fear of getting her heart broken again—and Leo, her supposed best friend, did not.

Chapter Seventeen

The morning of the wedding dawned clear and sunny. Dani had breakfast with Leo and Gabby, and they went on a long hike in the woods surrounding the castle. She had to hand it to Mr. Benz: he had everything planned and running so smoothly, there wasn’t anything to do besides show up for hair and makeup at one o’clock.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Gabby exclaimed, stopping as they emerged from the woods and the palace came into view. It was an impressive structure to begin with, made of pale stone, studded with fairy-tale turrets, and perched on the snow-covered hill next to the village. But decked out as it was for the wedding, with gold banners flowing from nearly every window, it was breathtaking. “I can’t believe Ilivehere.”

“You and me both, kiddo,” Leo said.

“Don’t call me kiddo,” Gabby said, and something twisted in Dani’s chest. Gabby always used to say that, but unlike before, the admonishment didn’t seem to have any real heat behind it. Gabby had settled in well. She was working with a tutor until herGerman was good enough for her to attend the village school, but she seemed integrated into the social life of the village and was a particular friend of Imogen’s nieces.

Leo and Gabby had a whole new life, and it suited them. Dani was going to miss them when she went home. She thought she’d gotten used to being without them, but seeing them now, here, was like reopening a wound that hadn’t quite healed.

She had to get off this schmoopy line of thinking about how she was going to miss everyone when she was back in New York.

Back at the palace, the wedding preparations were rolling out as planned, thanks to the presence of a small army being commanded by Mr. Benz.

The only snag in the proceedings was that Dani managed to break the heel off one of her shoes. Mr. Benz whisked away both the shoe and Dani’s apologies, and Verene got to work making some last-minute adjustments on Dani’s dress.

“Knock, knock.” Max stuck his head into the dressing room. “Is everyone decent?”

“Yes, come in, Max,” Marie called from the chair where she was having her makeup done.

Dani smiled. She’d been wondering when Max would turn up. And wow, was he ever . . . something. She had told him once that she tended to forget that he was a baron. That had been true in New York. And even on the estate in Riems, when they’d been tucked away in his cottage or tromping around on the mountain. But here, now, he was every inch the baron. His outfit made him look like a freaking Disney prince. He had once threatened to wear a “frock coat complete with ceremonial sword” to her departmental party, and this must be that. He wore plain blackpants, but the top was a deep blue jacket that made his eyes pop, but it was longer than a normal jacket and was covered with pins and bobbles and topped with a yellow sash.

“Well,” he said, making eye contact with Dani first as he came farther into the room, “doesn’t everyone look...” His eyes traveled down her body in a way that made her heart kick up, but oddly he looked almost angry. “Amazing,” he finished in a deadpan tone, although he had yet to lay eyes on anyone else.

He held her gaze for too long, and she had the sudden notion that she might burst into flame. Damn Max. How did he do this to her? And he wasn’t even touching her, like the other times he had inspired the sex feelings, with the snow angels or in the ocean. He was justlookingat her.

Leo cleared his throat. Crap. Whatever had been happening hadn’t escaped Leo’s notice.

“I wasn’t expecting a crowd,” Max said, seemingly unaffected by their stare-off. He looked between Marie and Leo. “I thought you weren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding.”

“We do what we want,” said Leo, who was wearing a plain, formal black suit over the objections of Mr. Benz and the king. In another display of “I do what I want,” he had refused the ceremonial titles that would normally be bestowed upon him as the husband of the monarch-to-be.