Page 35 of The Orc's Sweetheart
I chuckle but quickly switch to someone else who needs help. “Have you met Arran? I think I mentioned before that he founded our town. He lives in the castle if you continue down the path along the southern coast, just a bit past your house.”
“Oh!” Tilly exclaims. “That castle is gorgeous. I’ve never seen him out though. Is he also a recluse?”
“No. He’s a vampire.”
“And?” Tilly asks, complete confusion marring her brow. I don’t understand why she’s confused.
“Vampires can’t go out in the sun,” I say slowly, wondering if she hasn’t encountered vampires before. “He walks around the island at night and collects his blood bags from The Bandaged Heart. Before dawn he locks himself away in his dark castle so he doesn’t get sunburned.” With every word out of my mouth, Tilly’s jaw lowers a little more.
“Is that what he’s been told?” she asks after a moment of processing.
I nod hesitantly. “He has the burn marks on his arm that proves it.”
Tilly waves a hand in protest. “But, there’s vampire sunscreen. It came on the market a couple of years ago. Vampires go out all the time and lead normal lives now. I can order himsome today when I pop by The Sparkling Cauldron to see Samara.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, completely shocked. Tilly nods as I continue, “That’s amazing. But, maybe go see him first and chat about it. He’s quite old-fashioned and not good with change. We can walk over to the castle after dinner one night?”
Tilly’s smile is radiant and feels like a sunbeam warming me up from my toes to the tips of my pointed ears. “That sounds lovely. But let me get the sunscreen ordered anyway. If he’s open to it, it could be a nice surprise. If not, it’ll be good to have in stock for an emergency.”
We leave the cart behind as we slowly walk up the hill, discussing a few more creatures whose files Tilly should read. I resist the urge to scoop her into my arms, reminding myself that very soon she’ll be mine and I’ll be able to hold her whenever I want.
Chapter 16
Tilly
Up since the butt crack of dawn, I look at the spread of goodies arranged on the kitchen counter. It’s my first official date with Bodin, and I’m one hundred percent putting in all the effort.
After work yesterday, I headed to The Flowering Teapot. I spent an inordinate amount of time admiring the wisteria-covered facade before Annamae found me and dragged me inside to sample an array of goodies. The interior of the café is even more beautiful than the outside with plants dripping from every corner of the room—even the ceiling—and colorful flowers arranged in vases on the woodentables.
Annamae and Richard are the sweetest and filled my wicker basket to the brim with everything savory and sweet. They got me to sample a variety of goodies, most of them marvelously delicious, and others a tad too experimental for a first date. I’ll save the strawberry-guava pie and the beer-and-pretzel pie for another time when I’m feeling more adventurous.
After The Flowering Teapot, I popped into The Winged Apple for fresh fruit and vegetables to add to the meal. Pierre, the old gargoyle who runs the shop, seemed to approve of my selection with his positive-sounding grunts every time he rang another item up.
I don’t know if Bodin and I will get around to eating everything, but it’s always good to have a healthy variety. I wouldn’t be much of a nurse if I didn’t consider serving him a balanced meal.
I hope Bodin is part of my balanced meal.
He’s been the perfect, respectful gentleman so far, but I’m going to need him to put that on the back burner so he can disrespect me real good.
Throwing the windows open, I take a deep breath as I watch the tip of the sun reach past the horizon. The sky is swiftly changing from red to orange to yellow to blue, and the last of the stars will soon fade away. Bodin’s favorite time of day, mine too.
Oh, fuck. He’ll be here soon.
I rush to the bedroom and change out of my baggy pajamas, throwing on a strappy baby-doll dress I meticulously decided on last night. It’s the perfect balance of tits and thighs on displaywithout making it look like I’m outrightly trying to seduce him. Even though I am.
At the first sound of familiar footsteps heading down the cobbled path, I chuck on a light cardigan that drapes off my shoulders, and head for the door.
Bodin has said multiple times that he wants to mark me up, drag his tusks across my skin. I want that, so I’ll show him as much skin as I can without trying to make it too obvious.
In my haste to get to the door—perhaps so I can casually lean against it before he has to knock—I misjudge the distance from the wall to my foot, and stub my little toe in the corner.
“Ouch! Fuck!” I whisper-yell. The front door flies open less than a second later and a large male storms toward me.
“Tilly! Are you okay? What happened?” Bodin asks, hands reaching for me, brows scrunched down, and eyes searching my body for injuries.
“Hi,” I grunt from my hunched-over position. “Stubbed toe. No big deal. It happens.”
Without another word, Bodin scoops me up—bridal style—and carries me toward the kitchen. The throbbing of my toe is already a distant memory compared to having his rough hands on my naked thighs.
