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“Hi Shona,” he rumbled in his deep baritone. “I know, I’m early.” As he strolled in, his gaze panned to the desk. “Wow, what a spread!”
She tinkled a nervous laugh. “I went to Bellamy’s. Do you know it?”
“Bellamy’s Patisserie?” He eyed the cakes, then licked his lips. “I don’t remember them making such amazing cakes in my day. But then, I don’t really recognize any of central Motham anymore, it’s changed so much.”
“It’s all pretty trendy now.”
“Sure is. The trading area used to be just one street when I was a kid, and now look at it.”
She nodded. “I’m lucky Edgar’s office was here before all the development started. The costs for centrally zoned business properties have skyrocketed in the last few years. Anyway, take a seat. They should be here any moment.” She fussed over the desk and indicated the proposal she’d compiled. He arched his brows as he flicked through it.
“Very professional.”
Shona glowed inwardly at his praise.
While Shona took a phone call, Tor helped himself to a pastry. When she looked at him, he gave a thumbs up and rolled his eyes. Seeing him lick the icing off those big green fingers made her pussy clench.
You can lick my icing anytime.
Shona D, your self-talk is as crass as an orc’s!
Cheeks heating, she moved away and finished her phone call while Tor continued to look through the documents.
“All to your liking?” she asked when she’d hung up.
“Spot on.”
And that’s when three suited humans entered her office.
And somehow, thankfully, her brain clicked into professional mode.
Simon Jordak was a tall human, with sandy hair, steel gray eyes, and a cool manner. She’d seen him at official events on the few occasions the Counsel of Towns came to Twill. He was high breed old money. The Jordaks had set up the town of Tween in the valley long before Motham was formed. They’d also been instrumental in orchestrating the Great War, forcing the monsters onto what had been a dusty coastal plain, then building a wall around them. Really, there was nothing to be proud of in the Jordak lineage.
Simon introduced his two companions, Levitt Wellard, a little whippet of a man with bent shoulders, the Counsel’s financial advisor, and Isaac Leach, their legal representative. They all gave Tor a tight-lipped greeting as he towered over them.
None of them stepped forward to shake his hand. Shona swallowed her embarrassment at their poor manners.
Nevertheless, Tor handled himself beautifully. He was the epitome of good manners as he greeted them—far more so than these so-called well-bred humans.
When everyone was seated, Shona handed out copies of the buy-out proposal, then talked them through it.
Simon Jordak plucked at his lower lip and frowned as he read. They all flicked through their copies several times. Isaac made notes on the pages.
“We would need you to guarantee safe passage of human boats from the southern seas, through the channel and up to Twill’s port,” he said.
Tor inclined his head. “Indeed.”
“You will find that point is addressed in para 5 on page three,” Shona supplied.
More frowning, and hushed words were exchanged. “We will also need a say in which species you use to monitor the waters. We won’t allow selkies. We’ve tried using them before as escorts, but they literally don’t show up,” Simon said curtly.
Tor shot her a glance, eyebrows waggling, and she felt herself blush as she hid a smirk behind her hand.
After more perusing and note-taking, Tor shifted in his seat impatiently. “Gentlemen, let’s cut to the chase. What is the price that the Counsel will accept?”
Isaac and the accountant glanced at each other, then Isaac handed Tor a piece of paper.
Tor studied it, his brows rising. “And this includes me taking responsibility for policing the waters? Too high.” He handed it back.
