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Shona blinked.
It seemed like she’d been doing a lot of blinking since Tor Arquin walked in, a big arrogant- presence in her small office.
Frankly, she was struggling not to react viscerally to everything about him.
The photograph hadn’t prepared her for the sheer size and physicality of him, greener than most orcs around Motham and seriously buffed—not her type of course, but if he had been—which he wasn’t—she’d definitely have admired his honed muscles. It didn’t help that instead of all that leather gear, the waistcoat and bare green skin, he was currently dressed in an exquisitely cut shirt (Shona could tell an expensive designer shirt when she saw one). It gave him an air of sophistication she’d not expected at all. Even the tattoo on his forehead, V-ing sharply to the bridge of his nose and tracing around his cheekbones, was delicate, almost beautiful up close. And she couldn’t help but be fascinated by those small tight braids, bound together in a ponytail that ran down his back.
What would his hair look like loose and flowing across those huge shoulders?
“I’m afraid there is no such place as Orc Island,” she said, pushing away the errant thoughts.
“This.” He reached out a big meaty hand, and a thick green forefinger tapped the small island just off Motham Bay.
“Oh, you mean Green Island?”
“No, I mean Orc Island. That’s its real name.”
He was being totally unrealistic. But he was a client, so she figured it was best to humor him. “I wasn’t aware of that. I’m not sure Green—Orc—Island is for sale, Tor.”
He grunted, a deep rumbling sound that resonated with an alarming twitch of pleasure between her thighs.
Shona drew in a sharp breath and as if hearing it, he turned his head and perused her slowly. A shaft of sunlight from the window suddenly lit up his eyes, and she realized the black was interspersed with prisms of deep jade.
“Everything’s for sale. At a price,” he growled softly.
Shona pursed her lips and stared back at the map.
He had a point. But even so, not a whole damn island.
She’d have to work to win him round to a more realistic option. “I can look into whether that’s a possibility, but I really think—” He turned square to her now, almost but not quite blocking her path back to the desk. He was so big she had to tip her head back to look at him. His intoxicating smell, musky, earthy, sweet, wafted to her nostrils.
“Shona.” His stance widened, big thighs bulging through the soft linen of his pants, hands looping casually onto his hips.
“Yes?” It came out hopelessly breathy.
His lips shaped a slow, sensual smile, tusks twitching with the movement, and suddenly she was sure those tusks wouldn’t be an impediment if he were to kiss her.
She jumped—literally jumped, like a jack rabbit.
“I hope my request isn’t beyond your capabilities,” he said, his brows pleating.
“Gosh, no, not at all. I—” The words hitched on her breath. “I just hadn’t expected…”
Pull yourself together, woman.
“Such an outrageous request?”
She flashed him a sickly-sweet smile in answer.
His laugh when it came rolled through her, right down to her toes, which obligingly curled in her black patent shoes. “I do tend to make outrageous requests,” he purred. “Oftentimes they get granted.”
Gods he was arrogant. And yet, at the same time his gravelly tone made her want to shamelessly lean in, glide her tongue down the thick column of his green neck, flick a manicured fingertip under the buttons of his straining shirt and flip them open one by one, right down to his…
Shona swung away and tapped briskly to her desk.
“I’ll check if there are any properties for sale on the island,” she said, sitting down and making a big show of staring at her screen.
To her alarm, he strolled over, planted his huge palms on the desk and leaned in. That big broad face, those mesmerizing dark eyes, wide mouth and glistening tusks; the whole package made her think of a genie being released from the bottle.
