Recklessly Royal(20)

“I’m not normally like that.” I met his eyes briefly before looking away.

“Yeah, I get that.” His hand touched my chin to get my attention. “Which is a shame. I liked the grumpy Cathy who poured coffee all over me and the happy, forward woman who told me to take my clothes off.”

“Shh!” My eyes almost bugged out of my head.

A chuckle rumbled out of his chest. “No one is paying the slightest bit of attention to us.”

“That’s not true.” I shook my head. “There is always someone watching. Always.”

“Every person in this room is watching Alex spin Sam around the dance floor like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.”

“They do look amazing.” I craned my neck so I could see my brother. Sam had removed her train, making her dress much more manageable.

“I have to admit, seeing Samantha these last couple of days has really been a surprise. She fits in here so well—like she’s always been a duchess.” David’s eyes took on a faraway look. “It wasn’t that long ago that we were eating two-day-old cold pizza while going over projects. Or stomping through a field, searching for a bird. She never cared about her nails or makeup.” He paused for a minute, thinking. “But now, she’s so . . . polished. It was always there, but it’s like you guys took her and shined her up.”

“She still stomps through fields, chews her nails, and will just as quickly punch someone in the nose than deal with their crap. You’re seeing wedding Samantha.” I chuckled. “And you missed the very scary primping part of the process.”

“I’m imagining a bucket of water where you guys are scrubbing her with giant brushes while she cusses at you.”

“That’s not too far from the truth.” I laughed, remembering the eyebrow threading.

“Much better.”

“Excuse me?” I looked up at him confused.

“You relaxed.” With the hand on the small of my back he rubbed gently with his thumb. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, it’s not your fault.” I shook my head. “You’re right though. I shouldn’t have to separate Cathy and Princess Catherine.”

“Then don’t.” He shrugged like it was the easiest thing in the world.

I sighed but didn’t respond. It was almost impossible to explain how I had to manage being two different people. I didn’t even want to think about it.

The music stopped and David guided us from the dance floor. His hand stayed on my back, his touch sending goose bumps over my skin.

“Would you like something to drink?” He leaned close so that his warm breath washed over my cheek.

“A water would be nice.”

“No more alcohol?” His smirk was understandable.

“I think I’ve had my share for the year.” I smiled. “Maybe the next five years.”

“Well, there goes my plan for getting you drunk.” He winked at me.

“You do remember what happened to the potted plant, right?” I shuddered.

“That’s a good point.” Picking up a glass of water he turned and handed it to me.

“So how long are you going to be staying in Lilaria?” I sipped from my cup.

“I’m not sure.” He spun the wine in his glass with a look of disappointment.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” I touched his arm gently.

“I’m not upset about that—I’d just much rather have a beer than a glass of wine.” He looked at the glass with sad eyes.

“Well, that I think I can fix.” I looked around the room. Things were calming down, Sam was still dancing with Alex while teasing Daniel for stepping on her dress. “Come on.” Grabbing his hand I pulled him along behind me.

“Where are you taking me?” He set his wineglass down on a table as we walked.

“Does it matter?” I looked back at him and raised an eyebrow.

“No.” He shifted his fingers so they laced with mine.

“Okay, then.” I winked at him and pulled him with me.

We went through the servers’ entrance and through the kitchen. David didn’t say a word, just followed as I wove through the counters. Taking a small hallway, I led him into a smaller, much quieter kitchen that served the family wing. Opening one of the refrigerators I tossed him a bottle of beer before digging through the freezer for my favorite ice cream. He sat down at the island while I found a spoon for my frozen treat.

“How many kitchens are there?” He took a sip of his beer.

“Three,” I said. “The large one for formal functions, the employee kitchen, and this is the family kitchen.”