The Hallucinatory Duke by Meta Mathews Read Free Book Online Page A

smile that had her insides going into orbit.
    Amelia gulped, then grinned. “Okay, nice line, but I have to ask—where do you come up with that top one per cent figure?”
    He grinned back. “Like they say, ‘it takes one to know one’.” He glanced at his cell phone. “Unfortunately, it’s getting late and I really have to go.” He pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled something on a paper napkin. “Here’s my number. Text me your address and I’ll find you. Is seven o’clock okay?”
    “Great.” She picked her fork up. “Call if you have any problems finding my place. You’ll have my number after I text you.”
    “Will do.” He gathered up his newspaper then stood. “Enjoy my pie.”
    “No worries there.” She smiled broadly and cut into the syrupy filling. “Bye.”
    She took a bite then twisted around in the booth to watch him walk out of the diner. The sight of his butt being hugged by tight black jeans was almost as sweet as her pie, and she sighed with appreciation as she watched him stride toward the exit.
    The unexpected flash of heat that streaked through her seemed strangely familiar, almost as though she’d admired that particular bum—and the man it was attached to—on some occasion in the far past.
    But that was impossible.
    “Get a grip, girl,” she muttered aloud when Jack disappeared through the doorway. She shook her head and turned around to devote her attention to her pie. But even as she chewed on the gooey pecans, her mind persisted in searching for memories that simply could not exist.

Chapter Five
     
     
     
    Ben never showed up at the diner, so Amelia wouldn’t have been able to return the diary to him anyway, which was just as well, because she’d decided to keep working with it. Jack’s unexpected appearance had spurred her interest in solving the mystery surrounding the Duke of Durbane and the woman he’d married.
    She spent the rest of the afternoon transcribing more mind-numbing entries.
    Tea was late today. I had to speak rather sharply to the housekeeper, who of course blamed the delay on Cook. Servants are such a trial.
    Rain finally arrived this morning and has remained steady all day. The farmers will be pleased.
    Amelia was about to doze off in her computer chair when an entry shocked her out of her stupor.
    Amy, who insists that I not call her Duchess, came for a visit. She is devastated to think that the babe might be declared illegitimate and the duke left without an heir. These past two years have been difficult for her. I hope she can cope with this new disaster.
    “Now we’re getting somewhere,” she informed Wellington, who had been sleeping on the desk next to the keyboard. He opened one eye, then closed it again.
    Amelia quickly flipped the page and stared in horror. Ragged edges near the diary’s gutter indicated that several pages had been ripped out. “What the…?”
    She sighed, leant back in her chair, then jumped straight up when the chiming of the doorbell startled her.
    Frowning, she glanced at the clock and moaned. Seven-oh-five. Jack had no doubt arrived with dinner and she hadn’t so much as run a comb through her hair or brushed her teeth since lunch.
    She cupped a hand over her mouth and nose and blew her breath out, hoping to confirm that she didn’t have pecan-pie breath, but she had to admit that she really couldn’t tell.
    “Just a minute,” she yelled towards the door, while making a mad dash to the bathroom. A quick gargle with mouthwash and a spritz of perfume had to suffice for her freshening up. Another dash to the door, and she paused, forcing what she hoped was a placid smile, then looked through the peephole.
    Jack was glaring at her. She quickly turned the lock and opened the door. He clutched three takeout bags from a Chinese restaurant. A black case—probably holding a laptop—hung from a strap on his shoulder.
    He had changed into casual clothes. Faded jeans so worn and soft that they appeared moulded