"If you don't like me here, then why did you open the door?" A pang of regret speared my chest because I knew I wasn't playing fair.

He closed his eyes and groaned, likely haunted by my sexual fantasy I'd flashed him.

"Straw. Fennel seeds." I shrugged. "That's all I need."

"Yes, Your Highness," he growled then shuffled to the kitchen.

"Thanks." I figured I owed him quite a lot of gratitude, but that single word didn't seem to do ...