The sanctuary was in a town near Rousseau and about an hour drive from D’Lynsal. Which meant I had some time to look over other information. The building was on an old farm that had been donated by a family with a love for birds. It would mostly cater to animals that would not be able to be reintroduced to the wild, and in time would be used as an educational tool. Growing up with two older brothers had left me with a fondness for the outdoors, even though I was just as happy in an evening gown.

I scrolled through the website, checked out the resident birds, the people running the business, and the footnotes about people who had helped design the habitats. Turned out Dr. David Rhodes had his hands on a lot of projects. There was even a page with his credentials and a paragraph detailing why he had chosen to work with raptors.

It felt a bit like cheating to read the information, but then again, I knew he could just as likely pull up stuff about me on the Internet. And hadn’t he confessed to asking questions about me? Only Sam was gone so I couldn’t bug her for information. I could ask Jess, but that would lead to more questions from her and I’d never get away without divulging what had happened the other night.

By the time we pulled up to the farm, I had found out that David was the oldest son of a family from southern Georgia in the United States and that he was also the first in his family to attend college. Like a super spy I had found his pages on social media—even though they were mostly bare—and seen pictures of his family. It looked like his youngest sister might have a disability, but there was no way of telling for sure from just the picture. His other sister was in college and it looked like she was very studious. That didn’t surprise me in the least. David radiated book smarts. It was in little things, like the way he chose his words carefully, or the manner in which he said certain words. He took pride in his education and I couldn’t fault him for that.

The photographers were outside, even in the rain, waiting to catch a shot of us as we unloaded from the car. It was a mess outside and I was glad I’d chosen to wear my boots even if we were going to be inside.

The building was adorable and practically screamed Sam. Very rustic, but with sophistication in the details that let you know the animals would be well taken care of by the people inside. David was standing on the porch, looking extremely uncomfortable as people snapped his picture in his first official FBT production. He was wearing his standard plaid shirt and jeans, and work boots.

There was something extremely sexy in the combination, though I wasn’t sure it was an appropriate outfit for this event. Hell, who really cared?

“Welcome to Victory Hall.” David stepped forward to shake my hand, which meant I had to leave the safety of my umbrella. I squeezed his fingers tightly so that he knew he wasn’t alone in this fiasco.

“When I said I wanted a date, I didn’t think it would be with the entire contingent of the country’s press,” David leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

My heart fluttered at the mention of our date but my laugh was halfhearted. If he only knew, that was exactly what he had done when he asked me to the movies.

He gently took my arm and led me inside while Chadwick ushered the press in. The volume in the room increased tenfold as everyone took up an empty spot and divested themselves of their wet coats.

There were several workers inside and one of them hushed us so that we wouldn’t scare the birds. It amused me to see the photographers immediately start whispering as the older woman stared them down. A table for refreshments was set up in the welcoming room, but David didn’t stop, instead leading us all back where there was a room that would obviously be used for presentations. David motioned for me to take a seat at the front of the room, which I did, careful to make sure no one could see up my skirt. It was long, but you never knew what kind of angles pictures would be taken from. I’d seen photographers slide across a room on their back to try and capture that one-of-a-kind shot of something.

“Welcome to Victory Hall. We’re all very glad to have you here.” David smiled around the room. “Please forgive my need to speak in English. Despite the programs I bought, my mastery of Lilarian is still an embarrassment.”

The room smiled and chuckled, which seemed to ease some of the tension in David’s shoulders.

“As some of you might have heard, the Duchess of Rousseau was married this past weekend, which means I’ve been called in to help run Victory while she is away.” There were twitters from some of the people at the thought that someone might have missed the royal wedding. “This means that instead of seeing her smiling face, you’re going to have to listen to me blather on. Luckily, the lovely Princess Catherine has come to make sure I don’t make a complete fool of myself.”

“No promises!” I mock-whispered, and the group of people laughed.

David’s shoulders slumped. “Well, folks, in that case, I apologize ahead of time.”

I smiled, trying to not laugh. He was much better at working a room than I would have thought.

“Victory Hall was established as a place to bring injured animals for rehabilitation. However, it was also the Duchess Samantha’s—”

“Princess!” one of the reporters interrupted.

“Er, yes. It was also Princess Samantha’s plan to use this facility as a means of education. Schools will be able to travel here to learn more about our feathered friends, while also learning how to make sure they don’t end up needing our help.”

He walked over to a stand where a large owl sat on a fake tree, and picked up his gloves. With careful movements he lifted the bird to his arm and turned slowly so that the audience could get a good look.