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“Uh-huh. Got a photo?”
Shona found herself eagerly grabbing her cell out of her purse and scrolling to the photo she’d found on Moogle. And no, she hadn’t looked at it about twenty times since he’d left her office that morning. Of course she hadn’t.
Ivy took the phone and whistled through her teeth. “My, oh my. Handsome. And sooo sexy.”
“Really, you think so?” Shona tried to sound breezy. “Yeah, I guess. In a rough kind of way, I suppose he is.” Truth was, Ivy’s endorsement had made a pleasurable little tingle start up between her legs. Shona crossed them and squeezed. “But, you know, it’s just a fantasy. He’s my client,” she said briskly, almost wrenching her phone back off Ivy, who was perusing it with great interest.
“Until he’s not,” Ivy pointed out, finally handing back the phone. “And then you can do what you like.”
Shona huffed, plopping the phone in her purse. “I’ve got to get through the process of him buying a property first. And that’s going to be hard work. He reckons he wants to buy Green Island. The guy is completely out of touch with reality.”
Ivy’s mouth fell open. “Buy Green Island?”
“Yep. He’s dreaming. Even reckons it’s called Orc Island. I’ve persuaded him to look at some other properties tomorrow, but he’s still insisting I find out more.” Shona huffed. “I have no idea if the island is still owned by humans even. No idea. Let alone whether it would be for sale. Never even thought about it, but now I’ve got to find out.”
“He must truly be filthy rich… or bluffing.”
“Money is no object, he says.”
“Well, money can buy most things in this world. Even an island, probably.” Ivy’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, my bestie is going to date a billionaire orc. How exciting.”
“That is never going to happen.”
“We’ll see,” Ivy said. “I have a feeling about you and this orc.”
Shona merely huffed and changed the subject, telling Ivy about her photo session with Motham Monthly.
As Bryn walked back into the room twenty minutes later with two clean babies and everyone crowded round to kiss their little chubby cheeks, Shona decided the subject of her dating an orc had been laid to rest.
Thank the goddess for that!
Chapter
Four
When the hover cab landed on his old street, Tor felt the familiar drop in his gut.
The memories from childhood crowded back, of being mercilessly bullied at school by a gang of fucking vampires for being an orc, for having a tattoo—in his parents’ clan getting tattooed started young—constantly being called “fat orc” because of the soft roundness of his young body, which was the natural state of an orcling before adolescence hit and the muscle built, as if by magic.
He grimaced, putting aside the images, thanked the driver and climbed out of the cab onto the dusty street. The squat little mud brick houses looked so alien to him now; he was used to the glass and metal high-rises of Selig. At least orcs kept their homes neat, and the streets clear of rubbish. They might not have much money, but they were a proud species.
Spotting the home he’d grown up in, he was glad his parents had taken him up on the offer of a gardener and a lick of paint. The wooden front door was painted a bright shade of green to match the neatly mown lawn and a pretty wisteria was flowering above the porch.
Even so, nothing could camouflage the stench in this part of town. Tor’s nose wrinkled. The acrid smell of the smelting works and factories was worse today with the wind coming from the east. Some days the air would be clearer, but on others, like today, you could feel the burn at the back of your throat and nose.
Again, that whisper in his brain: You could fix this… He shook it off and strode up the street, aware of curious glances from the odd passer-by and the twitch of curtains in windows.
He guessed most people had lived here all their lives. They’d still remember that kid Tor Arquin with his big ideas. Well, look on folks, here’s that kid made good.
Even before he reached the front gate Katrina was bounding down the path toward him. The next moment she’d barreled into him. Oof. And then they were hugging. Great big bear hugs and punches that would look violent to anyone not used to seeing orcs greet each other.
It was simply the way orcs showed affection.
“Missed you so much, bro.” Punch.
“Missed you little sis.” He landed one back on her bicep. From the feel of the muscle on her, she was no longer his little sis. She’d seriously buffed up since working for Tower Security.
“So good to see you.” Now she laid one on his jaw, hard enough to draw a growl from him. “Look at you—handsome fucker.”
