Page 4 of My Orc Billionaire
I paused before one of the windows, moving close enough that I couldn’t see my reflection. I’d spent ten years avoiding my reflection.
When Sakkara had reached out to me two years ago to tell me that so many of our cohort had decided to move to Eastshore, I’d scoffed. Who the fuck wanted to live among so many humans? You couldn’t trust them, never knew what they were plotting behind their smiles.
I’d made the mistake twice, and I wasn’t going to be dumb enough to do it again.
Which is why it was galling asfuckwhen Sakkara had contacted us again after the new year’s turning and wooed the rest of the guys out here. Sure, my two younger brothers had moved to Eastshore and found Mates, but that didn’t mean Aswan andIhad to.
Except he did. And my best friend Tarkhan went too, as well as young Akhmim, who was like a kid brother to us all. And oncethey’dmade the decision to move, then I agreed to visit.
It had been Tarkhan’s idea to build this house so I’d have an office near my shareholders, and a place to stay when—if?—I visited. I’d been avoiding being here too often, but if this private chef was as good as his resume claimed…
Orc senses are much better than any human expected, but whoever just stepped through my front door wasn’t making any effort to be quiet.
“Hello?” I heard the distant call. “Um…Mr. Sylvik told me I should just come in?”
Right, because I had no intention of answering a door like a butler. Sylvik would’ve told him to just come to the office for the interview.
Let’s see if he can follow directions.
Distant lightning lit the gray clouds, and my eyes tracked it.Hope I get to see the storm roll in. Autumn storms here on Eastshore were a sight to behold. If I couldn’t be tucked away safe in the mountains, at least I had this view to compensate for it.
I heard footsteps in the hall—light enough to be fae, and if I did anything as crass as smirk, I might’ve smirked then, knowing I’d won my wager with myself.
Another lightning strike, closer this time, and I almost missed the sound of the knock at the door.
“Mr. Abydos?”
I snorted softly.Mister. That respect was the whole point of having all this money. “Come in,” I rumbled, not looking away from the gathering storm.
The door shut behind him, light footfalls on the thick carpet. “Mr. Abydos, I wasn’t sure if you wanted a demonstration of my skills, but when I’ve interviewed other times I brought a sample, so I hope you don’t mind I brought a collection of desserts?”
I heard him cross to my desk, likely to place down whatevercollectionhe carried, but I’d frozen, half in disbelief, half furious.
In the dark glass in front of my nose, I could suddenly see my eyes widen, see the spark of green which flared when an orc was truly enraged.
Because that scent?
That was ahuman.
There was ahumanin my home, in myspace.
Slowly, I turned, my fingers curling into fists at my side to keep from smashing something. How fuckingdareSylvik pull this shit! I would be firing his ass first thing tomorrow—Imagine thinking it was okay to hire ahuman?
And then I got a good look, and rage closed my throat.
Chef blacks, a neat white apron over slender hips; brown curls bouncing above sharp brows and hopeful green eyes; straight teeth chewing on a plump lower lip…the entire package was what I’d heard described as puckish…elven without being an elf.
And beautiful.
So godsdamn beautiful I felt my claws extending, digging into my palms.
Because Riven Starr was not onlynotfae, but she was also a female. Sylvik had sent a human female into my home, contaminating the whole fucking place.
It was that thought—the realization I would never again be able to work in this room without rememberingherscent—that had me unleashing my temper.
“Out,” I growled, uncertain I could say more.
Those winglike brows dipped in confusion. “Mr. Abydos? I thought our interview was?—”
