“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 ass**les 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 ass**le 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.