Page 70 of The Orc Chief's Baker
Her eyes blinked rapidly. “B-but you haven’t heard what I want from you in return yet.”
“Don’t care,” he said firmly, but when she flinched, he forced himself to swallow. Logic was so hard to find, and words were even more difficult. “What would you like?”
“A house. I want a house,” she said this quickly, decisively.
Absolutely, yes. “This one?”
Her eyes went wide and then she quickly shook her head. “Oh no. No, notthisone.”
What was wrong with it? “Needs changing? What? I can fix.”
“N-no, Brovdir, I don’t want to take your house.”
He shrugged. “Don’t mind.” He’d sleep in a half-frozen creek to have her right now. She was still half under him, with her full, soft body, all curvy and lovely. He wanted to trace every part of her with his tongue.
Would she let him taste her? What if he offered her more?—
“I want a house in Oakwall.”
His chest suddenly felt tight and his rational mind caught back up with him. She wanted a house in her own village. Not here. Not anywhere near him.
“All I need is for you to supply the materials and build it. I can draw up the plans.”
He balled his fists against the soapy floor. His throat clenched so hard he could feel the agony all the way down in his gut. It caged his heart and squeezed.
“It shouldn’t take too long. I don’t want anything fancy. Just a room and maybe some storage space. You’ll be done long before I finish carrying the babe, I promise.”
Why did that sound so wrong? Why did his throat constrict instead of bellowing with excited agreement?
After Karthoc demanded he be a chief of Rove Wood, all his reservations about raising a son vanished. This clan wassafe. His child would grow happy and strong in a community where food was not scarce and comforts abounded.
And yet his heart twinged despite this logic. Both Hendr and Caivid had found women of their own. Women who were not their conquest but desired their company. Woman who they may soon call theirmates.
“All right,” he said past the lump in his throat. He was being foolish and ungrateful. He should take what he could get.
“Really?” She sounded so relieved, and she pulled the towel up to cover herself from him. It seemed like the color in the room dimmed. “We... we have a deal?”
He nodded even as his jaw clenched.
“Good!” she exclaimed as she exhaled in obvious relief. “That’s really... that’s good. Um... maybe you could step out while I change. I should probably clean this mess up too. Do you have another towel?”
“Don’t.” Fades, the image of her on her hands and knees, scrubbing the ground, rhythmically rocking as she worked the cloth over the sopping floor...
“It’s such a mess. I think it will take a while to clean it?—”
“No.” The word came out like a growl, and he rose to his feet, taking her with him. She let out a yip of surprise, followed by a trail of shocked laughter. The sound was so warm it made him light up like a beacon. The sweet, melodic tone had him grinning and all thoughts that he’d pushed her too far flew out ofhis mind. He vowed to make her laugh every day she was in his presence. He wanted to savor the sound, drown in it.
He carefully navigated the damp, slippery floor as he carried her to the bed. He set her down without preamble and only after she’d sunk into the cushy mattress did he realize he shouldn’t have been so eager. He should have eased into this.
He searched Trinia’s face, worry panging in his chest as he waited for her reaction.
But instead of noting her new placement, her eyes were fixed on him. Hisface.
He gulped hard, suddenly self-conscious in a way he hadn’t been before. Even before he had scars, he’d been well aware he wasn’t the prettiest among his kind. Scores of women had examined his countenance, and most of them looked upon him with revulsion. He’d grown accustomed to it.
But he hadn’t been imprinted to thosewomen. The idea of being rejected by Trinia made his flesh prickle with anxiety.
She met his eyes. “I think... this is going to be fun.”
