Page 17 of The Orc and the Innkeeper

“Thorak, old friend,” Grok continues, his beady eyes flicking between us. “You running a charity these days, giving tours to slow-witted humans? Can’t imagine why else you’d risk your reputation holding hands with a dirty mundane like Mariah.”

Protective fury builds within me, and I instinctively step forward, putting myself between Mariah and these immature idiots.

“The only slow-witted being around here is you, Grok. What do you want?” I growl, my fingers itching to curl into fists.

The hulking troll throws back his head and laughs, the sound grating against my ears. “What are you getting so upset about, Thor? I thought you hated her. But now you’re—what? Don’t tell me you’redatinga human. Couldn’t find a proper monster woman to tolerate you?”

From the corner of my eye, I see Robert watching the exchange with a furrowed brow, suspicion clouding his features. Shit. This is not the impression I wanted to make.

Mariah’s hand finds mine again, her fingers intertwining with my own. The simple gesture sends a jolt of warmth through me, steadying my rising anger. She steps forward, her chin lifted in defiance.

“Yes, Grok, we’re together,” she says sweetly, though there’s an undercurrent of steel in her voice. “Thorak and I are in love. We’re engaged, in fact. Not that it’s any of your business.”

She turns to me then, and before I can react, she rises up on her tiptoes and presses her soft lips against mine. Fireworksexplode behind my eyelids as I instinctively pull her closer, my hand splaying across the small of her back.

The kiss is pure electricity, jolting through my every nerve ending. Mariah’s lips are warm and pliant, molding perfectly against my own as if they were made to fit together. Her lavender scent wraps around me, intoxicating and dizzying.

I forget where we are, forget our audience, forget that this is all supposed to be an act. All that exists in this moment is the slide of her mouth on mine, the sweet taste of her, the tight press of her petite body against my hulking frame.

Gods, it feels so real, so right.

8

MARIAH

Thorak’s mouth is hot and hungry on mine, claiming me with an intensity that steals my breath. The foreign press of his tusks against my cheeks sends a forbidden thrill racing down my spine as his tongue delves deep, tasting, exploring. I melt into him, my hands gripping the front of his shirt for support.

His large hands pull me impossibly closer until I’m molded against him, soft curves yielding to unyielding strength. The hard planes of his muscular body are a startling contrast to my own small frame, igniting my nerve-endings.

I lose myself in the heady sensations—the spicy, masculine scent of him filling my nostrils, the low, rumbling growl emanating from his chest, the searing heat of his touch branding me through my thin blouse.

Rational thought flees as desire, hot and urgent, pools low in my belly.

The lines between us blur with each drugging slide of his lips over mine.

Panting, I break away, my breasts heaving against his solid chest. Thorak’s intense amber eyes, pupils blown wide with barely restrained hunger, bore into my own. In their molten depths, I glimpse a reflection of my own want and confusion.

My cheeks flush hot under his penetrating stare, no doubt turning a vivid scarlet. I pray he’ll attribute it to our very public display and not the desire threatening to consume me.

Thorak tears his gaze away from mine to level a menacing scowl at our gawking former classmates. Grok and the others scatter like frightened mice before the imposing orc, mumbling apologies as they nearly trip over themselves in their haste to retreat.

Watching Thorak stand protectively in front of me, all six foot eight inches of pure, rippling muscle, defending my honor without hesitation—it’s sexy as hell.

And damn him, he knows it, if the smug tilt of his lips is any indication.

I’m torn between wanting to yank him down for another scorching kiss or knee him in the groin for making me feel this way.

Weak and wanting and completely at his mercy.

I decide to take a coward’s way out of this. Better than dealing with the extremely inconvenient and infuriating thoughts currently coursing through me. The ones urging me to climb this giant orc like a tree.

I pretend my phone is ringing.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” I mumble, turning away from Thorak and Kingsley as I press the phone to my ear. “Hello? Yes, this is she.”

I keep my back to them, listening intently to the imaginary caller on the other end. In reality, my mind is racing, desperately trying to come up with an excuse to escape.

“What? No, that’s not acceptable,” I say with feigned frustration, hoping my acting skills are up to par. “I’ll be there right away to sort this out.”

---