Recklessly Royal (3 page)

“God, please don’t, David. I’ll never be able to look at you again.” She covered his hands with her own and laughed, her cheeks a bright red.

“David?” I looked at him, confused, before looking over my shoulder at Jess. She was nodding her head with wide eyes like I was supposed to remember something. “David?” I said the name again, mulling over what that could mean.

I looked down at the bag I had taken from him and my eyes landed on his boots. It was then that a moment of clarity surged through my mind like a stampede of wild horses and I covered my mouth.

“Oh God.” A wave of nausea hit me. “You’re Sam’s friend.”

I promptly turned around and threw up into a potted plant.

S
UNLIGHT STREAMED IN
through a crack in the curtains, tracing a fiery path of pain directly across my face.

“Ow.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Ow, ow, ow.”

I threw my arm over my eyes and willed myself to die. Never had I ever been so hungover in my life. If it wasn’t for my dire need to use the bathroom I wouldn’t have moved ever again, but my bladder was not going to let that happen. Rolling over with a groan, I cracked one eye open.

On the table next to the bed was a bottle of water and two small white pills. It was like the Alcohol Gods knew exactly what I needed; or more likely, Chadwick had planned ahead. I picked up the pills and made out the aspirin brand name before tossing them back and drinking the water. With a shaky breath I swung my legs onto the floor and shuffled to the bathroom.

Without thinking, I turned on the light and whimpered. Flailing around blindly, I hit the switch and leaned against the cool tile of the bathroom wall. Turning so I could press my cheek against the cold surface, I sighed. Why did I drink so much last night? When did I drink enough to make me feel this bad? Sliding across the floor slowly, I made my way to the sink and splashed water on my face. I remembered the bottle of champagne and a couple of drinks. What else had I done?

Looking up into the mirror I traced the puffy circles and shadows under my eyes. Running my fingers up to the top of my head I gingerly probed the knot under my hair. When had that happened? Had someone hit me with a wine bottle at some point? That’s what it felt like, but I doubt that had happened.

Opening the medicine cabinet I got out my toothbrush and toothpaste I had stashed there the other day and tried to remember what had happened the night before. I remembered feather boas, Gene Simmons, and Sam knocking a table over. As I tried to get rid of the awful taste in my mouth, the image of a man filled my mind. A stripper? I spit the toothpaste out and felt my brow furrow. He was certainly hot enough to be a stripper, but I hadn’t hired anyone to take their clothes off. The press would have a field day if that story got out. So why did I remember a really sexy man standing in Sam’s living room?

I dragged my sorry tail back into the guest room and rummaged around in my overnight bag. I refused to turn on the light. My head was pounding and even the memory of the sun made me want to cry. Pulling out a pair of jeans, I slid them on and found a shirt. My head hurt too bad to pull my hair out of my face so instead I left it down.

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses out of my purse, I slid them on and gave myself a pep talk. I had too much to do for the wedding to hide in bed all day. Though it sounded like a really good idea.

I didn’t hear anyone else moving about in the family wing as I made my way downstairs, so I hoped that everyone was still asleep. I needed more water and was not ready to talk to anyone. There was a knocked-over plant on the landing of the stairs and I knelt down to scoop up the dirt.

“Want some help?” The deep voice startled me so much that I stumbled off the step I was perched on and my sunglasses fell off my face. I looked up into the dark brown eyes that had haunted my thoughts this morning and gasped. My headache was forgotten as I stood there staring at him. He was leaning against the kitchen doorway, a coffee cup in one hand and a broom handle and dustpan in the other. “It took forever to find a broom in this place.”

“I thought you were a dream.” I instantly regretted the words.

“You dreamed about me?” His mouth pulled up into a delicious smirk.

“Um, no.” I brushed some of the hair out of my face and searched for words. “No. I, um. I don’t remember much about last night. It’s a bit hazy. And I certainly didn’t dream about you.”

“Well that’s a shame.” He winked at me. Setting his cup down on a small table, he handed me the broom and knelt down with the dustpan. “So you don’t remember asking me to take my clothes off?”

I stared down into his handsome face while my mouth gaped like a fish. Oh my good God. No wonder I had thought he was a stripper. I had asked him to take his clothes off. If I had been alone I would have beat my head against the wall. An image of Sam stopping his hands fluttered through my mind and my cheeks heated. I really had told him to take his clothes off.

Wrinkles appeared in the corner of his eyes and he chuckled. “I’d say forget about it, but it appears you already have.”

“I—I think it’s coming back to me now.” I swept the dirt into the dustpan and chewed on my lip. “I’m really sorry. I don’t usually drink that much. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever drunk that much before. Ever. And never will again.”

He poured the dirt back into the pot. When he stood my eyes lined up with the collar of his shirt, and I tried to not notice the way the material strained across his chest. My gaze trailed upward, over his scruffy jaw, nose, and sharp cheekbones to meet his warm stare.

“David Rhodes.” He held his hand out to me, his eyes running over my face.

“Yeah, I remember that now.” I wrapped my fingers around his. “I’m Cathy.”

“Nice to meet you, Cathy.” His fingers squeezed mine and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Again.”

“I’ll never live last night down, will I?” I laughed.

“Not if I can help it.” His fingers tightened on mine briefly before he let go. “It’s not often that a princess orders me to take my clothes off.” His voice took on a distant tone.

“I’m just Cathy here.” I frowned. I hated being reminded of my title. As if I ever forgot. And the way he had said it—almost like he found the idea distasteful.

“Here?” He raised an eyebrow.

“At Sam’s place.” I shrugged. “Here I don’t have to be Princess Catherine.” Why was I explaining myself to him?

“Because she’s American? Or not really royalty?” There was no mistaking the defensive tone.

“Because she’s Sam.” I narrowed my eyes. My headache was starting to make its presence known once again. “Titles have nothing to do with it.”

“Okay.” David nodded his head as if I had answered correctly.

“Are you testing me?” I frowned. “Because I have a killer hangover and am not really in the mood.”

“I just wanted to make sure you really liked Sam. She talks about you a lot.” He shrugged.

“I love Sam.” Insulted, I took a step away from him. “She doesn’t need you to show up right before her wedding and start taking a poll. She’s quite able to take care of herself and really good at keeping assholes in check.”

“Looks like she may have taught you a thing or two.” Rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Sorry that you’re an asshole or for insinuating that I would use Sam?” I felt my upper lip twitch.

“Right now, both.” He shrugged. “Sam’s like my little sister. I just wanted to make sure she really was happy over here. It’s really different from back in Minnesota.”

“I’m busting my hump to make sure her wedding goes off without a hitch and that she’s not bothered by any of the stressful bits.” Crossing my arms over my chest I glared at him. “Everyone wants Sam to be happy.”

Leaning over, he picked up my sunglasses and offered them to me. “I’m sorry. Truce?”

I took the glasses from him. “Then I hope there is more coffee where you got that.” I pointed at his cup. “Because I’m going to need it.”

“It so happens that there is a pot full, minus one cup, in the kitchen.” He walked over and opened the door he had come through.

The smell of the coffee did not make my stomach turn, which I took as a good sign. Walking to the cabinets I grabbed a mug and poured myself a cup. The stool at the island scraped along the floor as David took a seat. I could feel his eyes on me as I whipped up some foam and made a small bull’s-eye on top. I wasn’t an artist like my brothers, but I could give a good barista a run for her money. Goose bumps erupted along my arms and I berated myself for caring. Distractions weren’t welcome right now, nor were attractive men and their preconceived judgments.

“So,” I said turning around. My mother had taught me that anger usually came from confusion, and as much as it killed me to be pleasant when I really felt like a piece of poop, I’d try. For Sam. Not because David was incredibly delicious to look at. “What’s your issue with Lilaria?” I was pretty fond of my country and found it hard to imagine anyone could dislike it so quickly.

“I’m not sure I have a problem with Lilaria, exactly.” He shrugged. “It’s just so different from where Sam and I come from.” He looked around awkwardly. “Speaking of Sam, any idea when she’ll be up? I need to ask her some questions before the wedding. I doubt I’ll have much time to talk to her afterward.”

“Let her sleep a little longer. She has a big day ahead of her.” I frowned. “And it’s really not that different here. She has a family that loves her and she still works with birds.”

“Yeah.” He looked around the kitchen, and I tried to imagine it from his point of view. Rousseau wasn’t the largest home of the royal families, but Alex had told me about the tiny house Sam had shared with Jess.

“How long did it take you to find a broom this morning?” I decided I’d try to make him more comfortable. Maybe that would help his defensive attitude. “I came over to visit not long after Sam moved in. It took us ten minutes to figure out how to use the oven.”

“Roughly fifteen minutes.” He smiled at me. “Maybe someone will draw me a map.”

“I bet Chadwick already has.” Turning away from him, I poured myself another cup of coffee. I really needed more water than coffee, but I’d grown accustomed to the stuff since I had been spending so much time with Sam.

“He must have been the one that left the coffeepot ready for this morning.” David lifted his cup and frowned. Standing up, he came to the coffeepot to pour another cup.

“Him or Margie.” I sipped from my cup and tried to ignore how close he was standing next to me.

“Margie?” He looked down at me with his dark eyes and I understood why I had drunkenly asked him to undress. The man was gorgeous.

“Uh, the cook.” I took another sip of my drink and forced myself to stop contemplating how the angle of his cheeks highlighted his eyes.

“The cook.” He sighed and leaned against the counter. “How many people work here?”

“Not many.” I shrugged. “Maybe ten? Too many people make Sam uncomfortable.”

“Ten.” He shook his head. “That seems like ‘many’ to me.”

“Think of it like a resort. They’re just here to keep things going and to make sure you have what you need.” I didn’t point out that there was twice that many at D’Lynsal, and ten times that many who worked in the palace.

He shifted his shoulders and frowned into his cup. He looked so uncomfortable I felt a twinge of sympathy for him. It was hard to leave your normal life behind and do anything different. And he was here because Sam trusted him with her home and the Future Bird Trust, which had become her baby over the last year.

“You know, it’s not so bad.” I smiled at him. ”You’ll be so busy with the FBT you’ll hardly notice anything else, but you won’t have to worry about washing your clothes or cooking dinner.”

“It doesn’t sound that bad when you put it that way.” Something warm filled his eyes when he looked down at me. “You know, you don’t really seem like a princess.”

“Wow. You’re really bad at compliments, you know that?” I laughed. “Besides, how many princesses do you know?”

“Well, not many.” He chuckled. “You, and I guess Sam will be one soon.”

“Exactly.” I shook my head. “Speaking of the morning grump, she should be up soon.” I looked down at my watch. We had a lot to accomplish and very little time to do it in.

“I’m up. There better be more coffee.” Sam shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes half lidded. “And if you call me Princess, I will throat-punch you.”

In fear for my life, I turned to open the cupboard to get a cup for her and face-planted into David’s chest. My coffee splashed onto his shirt and I cringed.

“Yow.” He grunted and pulled at his shirt.

“Sorry!” I spun and set my cup down and picked up a rag from the counter. I rubbed at his shirt in an attempt to soak up some of the hot liquid. “Sorry. So sorry!”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay! Are you burned?” Without thinking I lifted his shirt to make sure he didn’t have any blisters. As soon as I exposed his skin I gulped. Despite a red mark, his tanned chest and stomach looked perfect. Too perfect. Perfect enough to make me consider suggesting taking the shirt off all the way. You know, so I could rinse it, not just because I suddenly wanted to watch him walk around half naked.

Okay, I could be honest with myself and admit that I liked what I was seeing. Hadn’t I already decided I wanted to see him naked last night? Of course, I had been drunk. Heat rushed over my body and I froze, my fingers still on his skin. I may have had too much to drink last night, but I wasn’t drunk right now.

“I’m fine.” His voice rumbled out of his chest under my touch. His hand caught my wrist with gentle fingers and I looked up into his warm eyes. He smiled at me, even though I had just dumped steaming liquid on him.

“Um, I suppose you want to take care of this yourself.” I handed him the rag and turned around to hide my pink cheeks. I had just rubbed all over his chest like some kind of hormonal idiot. I looked for my coffee but it was gone and I scanned the room. Sam’s wide eyes watched me over the rim of my cup as she sipped the leftover contents.