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Tor’s lip curled. “Why would humans share anything about the competency of monsters? They hoped that by herding monsters into Motham, we’d kill one another in cold blood. Didn’t happen, as you can see.” He swept a hand around the restaurant.
“But weren’t the early days of Motham violent?”
“Yeah, there were some skirmishes, but after the high monster death toll of the Great War, there was no appetite left to fight one another. All it took was Atholrose Motham to pull us together. He was wonderful toward us orcs. He never judged orcs for being…” he paused.
Shona held his gaze. “Being?—?”
Tor’s lips quirked. “A tad uncouth.”
“Oh, I… are you implying?—”
Now his eyebrows waggled. “Be honest, have you never looked at an orc and thought, ‘there’s an ugly uncouth beast.’”
“No,” Shona demurred. “Well—I guess some orcs do tend to be a bit… loud at times. You know, the ones who work on the roads, and building sites, their manners… leave a bit to be desired.”
Tor chuckled at that. “We have a loud sense of humor. We enjoy rough talk and rough play. And amongst our own, that is how we show affection. Our kind have never been taught the gentler art of communication.” He leaned forward. “Despite the rumors, orcs won’t harm another unless they are attacked first, or someone they care for is attacked. They might let lewd words spill out of their mouth, but they’ll be the first to run to an old person’s aid, or chase a pick-pocketer or?—”
“Give a human their waistcoat when they’re cold,” she breathed softly, looking at him from under her lashes.
His mouth slashed into a grin that was so disarmingly beautiful her breath hitched. Orcs, uncouth? Oh no, not this one.
“Yeah, that too,” he agreed.
The waiter arrived and Tor said, “I think champagne is in order, don’t you?”
To which Shona could only smile and reply, “I think so.”
Dinner passed delightfully. Tor asked her a lot about herself, and he listened, genuinely listened, to what she told him. And when he talked about his own life, he was modest. You would never believe he was a billionaire.
“Your home in Selig, what’s it like?” she asked over dessert.
He shrugged. “Nothing flash. Just a simple place overlooking the ocean. I like to see the horizon. I think after all the years down a mine shaft, I need to feel I have space around me.”
He paused, eyeing her thoughtfully. “What about your dream home, Shona?” he asked. “What would it be like?”
Suddenly all she could think about was sharing a home with him. Any home. As long as she woke up in a big bed every morning next to this big green hunk.
Crazy.
Well, she couldn’t say her dream home featured him in bed with her, could she?
“I really haven’t thought.” She shrugged. “Too busy buying dream homes for other people, I guess.”
“Cop out.” He laughed, his dark eyes soft.
That’s exactly the way he’d look at you every morning when you woke up.
Oh, stop this.
After they’d finished dinner, Tor refused point blank to let her pay half. “My thank you for your hard work,” he explained, waving away her protests. “Now, let me walk you home.” The statement was firm, authoritative, and a little shiver of anticipation went through her. But nothing would happen, not with her menses.
“Oh, really no, I’ll be fine, it’s only round the corner.”
“Then I’ll take a stroll with you, if I may.”
She tried to hide her pleased little smirk. “Okay then, let’s stroll.”
Out on the street, they fell into step. “You know, I’m getting to like Motham, particularly this part. I never thought I’d say that,” Tor mused.
