Page 13 of Romancing the Orc

I wrap an arm around her and pull her flush to my chest. “Hang on.”

“What do you mean, hang on?” She shakes her head rapidly and jabs a finger toward the valley far below. “You’re not going to—”

Shouts come from behind us. There’s no time to ease her into this.

I leap outward, Lara’s high shriek of surprise ringing in my ears.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lara

I cling to Brokk’s bare chest, a scream tearing from my throat. Oh, god. Oh, god. I don’t want to die!

We fall for a split second, then there’s a jolt that jerks my gaze upward.

Brokk’s free hand grips a vine!

A startled huff of laughter bursts from my lips. No fucking way! I write about things like this all the time, but I never imagined actually doing it.

We pendulum outward into empty air, then swing back toward the cliff.

Elton yells at us from the tent window, but my heart’s pounding too hard to make out what he’s saying.

Because Klaus stands beside him, lifting his gun.

Right as a shot rings out, Brokk loosens his grip, and we fall.

My stomach flies up into my throat as another choked scream escapes me. I wrap my arms around his neck, and my knees grip his sides in a panicked scramble for stability, as if that’s going to help. He’s fucking falling too, Lara! Get a grip.

After a few seconds, we’re well below the level of the tent, and Brokk tightens his hand on the vine just enough to slow our descent to something slightly less stomach churning.

How? How is he holding up both our weights with only one arm?

And how damned long is this vine?

God, some days I wish I didn’t have such a good imagination, because it’s working on overdrive right now, coming up with twenty billion things that can go wrong.

We crash into the tops of trees, and I feel like I’m seeing things, because I swear it seems like the plants are reaching for us and helping to break our fall! Energy sizzles in the air, an electric tingling such as I’ve never felt before.

Vines and branches continue to catch us, slowing us until, by the time we hit the ground, we’re not moving nearly as fast as we should. Brokk takes the brunt of the blow, landing on his back, his body cradling mine.

I lie still for several stunned seconds, clinging to Brokk, my body unwilling to believe we’re out of danger. Finally, I force my legs to unclench from his sides and straighten them, my heels snagging on the vines.

“How? What?” Ugh, when did I lose the ability to form complete sentences? I tug my foot, working it loose. My hands slide across his naked chest. “How did those vines and branches do that? And why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

“It was bright white and stood out far too much.” He gives me a smirk. “Besides, I got the idea you like my bare chest.”

“What?” Oh, god, he can tell? I lie, “No, I don’t.”

“Then why do you keep stroking it?”

My hands freeze in place. I bite back a groan. He’s right—Iwasstroking his chest. How mortifying! My cheeks heat. Dammit, I’m probably beet red by now. My shit poker face extends to having super-obvious blushes.

A few shouts call out from overhead, and Brokk’s expression hardens into the steely look I’ve seen staring out at me from my book covers. I always thought it was acting, part of being a model, but it looks authentic on him, as if this is some hidden part of him finally let free. It’s a dangerous look, promising a world of pain for whoever crosses him.

“We need to move,” he growls.

“Right.” I nod.

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