Page 49 of Duke, Actually

“So?” he said, sticking his hand into the bag of potato chips she had open. “Tell me everything again.”

“Okay, give that back now,” Dani said a couple of hours later, holding her hand out for her phone, which Max had commandeered to pass judgment on her Tinder prospects. He was a little taken aback at how many messaging threads she had going. She couldn’t findanyonedecent in this large a pool? “You’ve done enough damage,” she said laughingly as she pried the phone out of his grip.

“I’m not sure I’d call it damage,” he said, but he gave the phone back. He had done some trawling on her behalf, and he was pretty sure he’d found a few diamonds in the rough, a few princes among the bad grammar and ill-advised tattoos. He still wasn’t convinced that any of them were actually worthy of her, but heconsidered this an exercise in harm reduction. “I’m hot. I’m going back in the water.”

They had spent the day cycling between swimming and sitting on the beach talking. Dani was always easy to talk to, but in person it was even easier. He told her the latest on the mine project and how it was bringing him and his brother closer than they’d been for years. She told him a highly amusing story about her current renter, who was in the city to attend an intensive miming workshop. He had mining; she had miming. The hours had flown by.

She got up with him and brushed sand off her legs. He’d tried not to be too obvious about checking her out, but he was only human. Every time he did, his previous conclusion that she was too good for the men of Tinder was ratified anew. To begin with, she was gorgeous in a sleek, black one-piece swimsuit, tall and lean and gently curved. But what grated on him was that the most gorgeous thing about her was her brain. Her brain was going to be wasted on the Mr. Carnivores and HarlemHipsters of the world.

“Ahh! It’s so cold!” she said, as she had every time they’d ventured into the water.

“If you think this is cold, you should try an Alpine lake.”

“Ooh, do you have a lake?” She took another step and made a face as if she were being tortured.

“I do. Well, the estate does. It’s small but deep—and cold. It’ll freeze your nuts off.”

“I don’t have nuts, Max.”

“I am aware.” Was he ever. “I’m trying to speak American.”

She snorted.

“We also have a natural hot spring.”

“Wow, I can see why you love it there.” Another step, another tortured grimace. “What I would give to be in a hot spring right now.”

“The trick with cold water is to plunge in and get your body moving.” He came back toward her and stopped when the water was at his mid-thigh, as it was on her. Since he was taller, it put them a meter or so from each other. He pointed to a red umbrella on the beach about a hundred feet off. “I’ll race you to that umbrella. Not literally, but to that spot at this depth.”

He took off, leaving her shrieking and splashing behind him. He beat her and turned. She was laughing as she slogged through the water, but she slowed to a stop well before the finish line.

“That’s it? You’re giving up?” he teased.

“I sure am.”

The idea popped into his head fully formed and fully absurd. He splashed back toward her, then out deeper, until the water was mid-chest on him. He raised his arm and beckoned her with a “bring it” gesture.

“What?”

“Come here.”

“Why?” she asked, but she started coming.

“Let’s do theDirty Dancinglift.”

Her mouth fell open as she stopped walking. “Are you insane?”

“Come on. The iconic lake lift.” He gestured again. “You know you want to.”

She grinned but quickly slammed her mouth shut like she wastrying not to appear delighted by his idea. Too late. And more critically, she started moving again.

When she arrived, she raised her eyebrows incredulously. “We can’t do theDirty Dancinglift.”

“On the contrary. We can do whatever we want.”

“But why? Why would we do this?”

“Why would we make snow angels in Central Park?” he countered. “Because it’s fun.”

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