“What are those things?”

“Mountains, chiefly. I live at the base of one, and I love going up it.” He only said that because she was drunk. Max was not the kind of person who went around earnestly proclaiming his love for nature.

“We turn here. I think.” Her brow furrowed as she tried to read a street sign. “I’m not normally this much of a drunker.” She furrowed some more. “Drinker.”

“No judgment here. I’m the man-whore, remember?”

“Yeah, what is that about?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s ‘about’ anything.”

“At some point this evening you stopped trying to get into my pants. Why?”

“Because you clearly don’t want me there.”

“So you’re a man-whore with morals?”

“While I’m happy to take credit for being morally upstanding in my slutting around, I don’t think it’s actually that high-minded—or that complicated.”

“What is it, then?”

“Call me crazy, but sexual assault turns me off. Coercion, all that stuff. It’s what I believe you Americans would call a ‘boner killer.’” He copied her signature finger-air-quotes gesture.

She turned thoughtful. “Also, why is the term man-whore? Why not just whore?”

“Marie is the only one who calls me that. Well, Marie and the tabloids.”

“So what do people call you? Oh, wait, ‘The Depraved Duke,’ right?”

He smirked. “Not a duke, though.”

“But you don’t dispute the ‘depraved’ part?”

“Well, people used to call me a playboy, or a rake, before that unfortunate moniker stuck. It’s amazing the kinds of stories people will tell about you when you’re as attractive as I am.” He batted his eyelashes to show he was joking. And also because he truly did not want to talk about it.

“Rich probably doesn’t hurt, either.”

“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’t lying?”

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 were all faking.”

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.”