Page 10 of Bidding on the Orc Outcast

But that warmth wasn’t for him. Couldn’t be for him. She’d probably only bid out of pity - the poor, unwanted orc no one else would touch. Or worse, she’d been dared to do it, and soon the whole town would be laughing about it. Laughter might even be worse than fear.

The scent of honeysuckle drifted from the audience, and somehow he knew it was her scent. It wrapped around him, making his tusks throb with the need to mark, to claim. He forced down a growl.

This was exactly why he needed to stay in his cabin, away from temptation. Away from soft, curvy humans with kind eyes who made him forget what he was.

He left the wings and headed for the back exit, his boots thudding against the wooden floor as he lengthened his stride. The sooner he got out of here, the better. He’d fulfilled his obligation to Flora - more than fulfilled it. No one could say he hadn’t tried.

A red and white blur stepped into his path.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Flora planted her hands on her hips and glared up at him.

“Home.” He tried to step around her, but she moved with surprising agility for someone her age and he couldn’t bring himself to move her out of the way.

“That sweet girl just bid on you.”

“Out of pity.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue.

“Nonsense. I saw how she looked at you.”

“Like I was going to eat her?”

He gave her a humorless smile, but to his surprise she grinned back and waggled her eyebrows.

“Like she wanted you to.”

The tips of his ears heated at the all too tempting thought. “Flora-”

“Don’t you ‘Flora’ me. You made a deal - participate in the auction. That means following through with the date.”

“The deal was to show up. I showed up.”

“The deal was to participate.” She jabbed a small, bony finger painfully at his chest. “You’re not participating if you run away like a scared rabbit.”

His growl echoed off the walls. “I don’t run.”

“Then prove it.” Her face softened. “Give her a chance, Varek. Give yourself one.”

The scent of honeysuckle drifted down the hallway again, and his fists clenched. The thought of spending time with her, of having those eyes fixed on him, was far too tempting. And he couldn’t let himself be tempted.

“I can’t-” He swallowed hard. “I won’t risk hurting anyone again.”

Flora sighed. “The only one you’re hurting is yourself.”

The click of heels caught his attention as the scent of honeysuckle grew stronger. His pulse began to thunder in his ears as the female who’d won him rounded the corner.

Now that she was standing he could fully appreciate the red silk dress wrapped around those luscious curves, curves his fingers wanted to trace. Dark brown hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders, and her eyes - warm and kind - fixed on his face.

“Hi.” She stretched out her hand, pretty red lips curving into a shy, enchanting smile. “I’m Posy.”

Posy. The name suited her.

His hand automatically engulfed hers, and the contact jolted through him like lightning. Her skin was impossibly soft, delicate bones shifting under his grip. Heat radiated from that single point of contact, spreading up his arm and settling in his chest.

His muscles ached with the need to pull her closer, to scoop her up and carry her far away. The rational part of his brain warred with instincts he’d thought long buried.

She was so small. So fragile. One wrong move and he could break her without meaning to. But she didn’t look afraid, even though her head barely his sternum, and her fingers curled around his. That simple acceptance threatened to undo him completely.

He forced himself to release her hand before he did something stupid. Like give in to the possessive growl building in his chest.

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