Page 15 of Romancing the Orc

My heart skips, and deep in my gut, a part of me does believe him. But how is that possible?

“Come. It will be dark soon. We need to find a place to make camp.”

Brokk leads the way, shoving vines and plants out of our path with his large size. I keep my eyes focused on the ground, because even in these heelless booties, I’m not exactly action girl. I may write women going on adventures, but that’s only because I’m not the type to actually have one.

No, I like for life to be orderly, to follow lists. I bat a fern frond from my face and mutter, “None of this is on my list.”

“Maybe you need some new lists,” Brokk says, shooting a grin over his shoulder.

“Sure. I’ll add ‘get kidnapped by a megalomaniac’ to the top of my to-dos right away.”

He growls, “That will never happen again.”

“You can’t say that. It sure as hell happened today.”

“I will not allow it.” He stops and spins to face me. “I will protect you.”

“So you’re going to be my cover modelandmy bodyguard?” God, it’s not the worst idea ever. He certainly handled himself well back at the camp.

“Yes,” he says with pure conviction. Then he heads into the jungle again, leading me through a tunnel of dense vegetation that seems to bend out of his way. But that’s impossible, right? He’s simply so big and strong he leaves an impression on the world as he moves through it.

We continue on for what feels like hours but probably isn’t. By the time we stop at a wide log, I’m panting and parched. What can I say? Sitting hunched over a laptop for twelve hours a day isn’t exactly exercise.

Brokk finds little pools of water that have been trapped on leaves. He makes me a funnel, and as soon as I wrap my lips around the smaller end, he pours sweet, sweet water into my mouth.

Searching overhead, he finds some fruit that look like someone crossed an avocado with a kiwi. With a quick slice of his knife, he splits several of them in two, exposing orange insides dotted with gray seeds. A bright, tangy scent fills the air.

“What are they?” I ask as I accept a couple of the halves from him.

“I’m not sure. I only know they’re safe to eat.”

How can he know they’re safe if he doesn’t know what they are?

I lick at the pulp, and the tart taste of citrus and pineapple bursts across my tongue with familiarity. “I know what theseare! These are passion fruit. I had a mojito flavored like this at that Cuban restaurant near the convention center.”

“Passion fruit.” He slurps down half a fruit with a suggestively wet sound and smacks his lips. “I like the name.”

I stare transfixed as his tongue scoops out another portion of fruit. Good god, how long is that thing? My thighs clench.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Brokk

By the goddess, if my mate keeps staring at me like that, passion fruit will not be the only thing I eat.

I suppress a groan, imagining licking between her thighs, teasing out all her sweetness.

Yet I must woo her. I push the last two pieces of fruit into her hands. “Stay here. I will hunt and return soon.”

My magic unfurls as I step away from the log and ask the plants to form a protective barrier around Lara.

Then I’m off, moving through the jungle, heading in the direction the plants tell me holds prey. I find them before the last of the daylight fades. They’re a non-fae bird that looks like chickens. I pluck and prepare the two I bring down before returning to Lara.

Thankfully, I still carry my warrior kit with me. Besides my knife, I have a magical glow stone, a fire stone, and a cleaning cloth. I’ve tried not to use them in the human world, because I have no way to recharge their spells away from Alarria, but taking care of my mate is too important not to use them now.

The fire stone is almost fully charged. Human electricity means I’ve had no need of it. I get a fire going and feed it until it’s large enough to cook with yet not so large as to draw undue attention. I ask the foliage to weave a wall around us, so none will spot the light. Then I hold a spitted bird over the flames, turning it in a slow continuous motion that allows it to heat evenly.

Lara watches my every move. “Were you a boy scout? How’d you learn to do all of this?”

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