Page 70 of Duke, Actually

And here came the sex feelings. She felt a bit shaky, like a damsel in distress in need of a fainting couch, even as a kind of steady warmth bloomed inside her.

She took a deep breath to try to right herself. The air smelled piney. Like Max had the few times she’d gotten close enough to pick up his cologne. He smelled like his favorite place.

He had been wearing swim trunks under the pants he was shedding, and Dani was wearing her swimsuit under her clothes, so she took off her boots and struggled out of her clothing. “Oh, oh, it’s cold!” She hopped up and down on the freezing rock. At least the shock of cold jarred her out of her swoony weakness of a moment ago.

“Careful,” he warned. “The dusting of snow will have made it slippery.” He held out a hand, and before she could overthink it, she took it.

The hike had been challenging, and she’d worked up a bit of a sweat under her parka, and the sudden addition of the cold air was making her shiver violently.

“Big step down, then there’s a ledge under the surface,” he said, holding her hand like he was an old-fashioned gentleman helping her down from a carriage.

Stepping into the hot water was nothing short of glorious. The heat after such an extreme blast of cold made her tingle all over, and as he led her to the far side to sit on a deeper ledge, she heaved a deep, slow sigh. It felt like the cold, piney air was cleaning her lungs from the inside as her muscles surrendered to the blissful warmth.

“Wooow,” she breathed, and he smiled. “What’s with all these stones? It’s like a fancy outdoor spa.”

“This is a natural spring, but my father’s mother had it reinforced with these stones to make it a more comfortable—and less mucky—experience. To hear it told, she was quite the devotee.”

“This grandmother of yours just gets better and better.”

“I wish I’d known her.”

“But you do now, a little bit, don’t you? From the letters?”

They talked for a while about the magnitude of Max’s find, and when their conversation came to a natural lull, he asked, “Are you all toasty now?”

“Yep.” She held up a wrinkly finger. “Turning into a prune. I’m actually getting a bit overheated.”

He pushed off the ledge he’d been sitting on, moved to themiddle of the spring—it was the size of two or three hot tubs—and said, “Dirty Dancinglift.”

“You were serious about that?”

“Would I joke aboutDirty Dancinglifts?” When she didn’t answer, merely cracked up, he said, “Come on. It will cool you off.”

“All right, you weirdo.” She moved toward him, lifted her arms over her head as she got close. He came in smooth as anything. As his hands splayed her hips, they were totally in sync. He lifted, and she jumped like this was a choreographed routine they’d done a thousand times.

“Eee!” she said as she reached the top of the lift. The cold mountain air was making steam rise off her hot skin. It was exhilarating. It was silly.

It was perfect.

“Don’t dive,” he said from below her. “There’s probably enough clearance, but let’s not test it. I don’t want you to hit your head on the rock.”

“Okay.”

She expected him to sink down in the water, to lower her like an elevator, but instead he executed a move Patrick Swayze would envy, rolling her down into his arms. As they grinned at each other, both of them panting, she could almost believe they’d completed a triumphant, end-of-the-movie dance that had turned all their critics into applauding fans.

He held her there for a moment, their smiles fading in unison. She could see her breath. It was mingling with his. It felt like they were looking not just at each other butinsideeach other. It wasn’t uncomfortable—he already knew everything anyway—but it felt... weighty somehow.

As quickly as it had arrived, the moment of seriousness evaporated, like the steam rising from the surface of the water. He winked and set her down.

And when he hopped out of the spring and produced a towel from his bag, came to the edge, and held it out for her, she let herself be wrapped in it. Let both the silly exhilaration from the top of the lift and sudden intimacy that had come afterward wrap around her, too. It was a good feeling, to be cocooned in protection and warmth and rightness.

She told herself not to get used to it.

After they got back to the cottage, Dani took a shower and didn’t even bother getting dressed again. Max had ordered a late dinner from the kitchen at the main house, which seemed to function as his personal room service, and she joined him in her pajamas. He’d laid their dinner out in the library, on a coffee table next to a crackling fire.

“Well, don’t you look cozy?” he said.

“Was I supposed to dress for dinner?” He clearly had, having swapped his hiking attire for jeans and a button-down shirt.

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