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She moved away swiftly, breaking eye contact, a slight flush on her cheeks. Had he… Gods, had she been affected by him too?
The thought made his cock twitch again.
Get down, you fucking mongrel.
Quickly, Tor adjusted his belt, rearranged himself while she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and swung back with a toss of her silken hair. “Your PA was very insistent about this appointment.”
“Typical vixen.”
She looked a bit surprised. “I’m sorry?”
Tor smirked. “Merle, my PA—she’s a fox femme, they’re more common my side of the ranges. And very forthright. Snappy even, at times.”
“Oh, I see. Well, I’m just a plain ordinary human.” She gave a little shrug, her pretty lips forming a self-deprecating smile.
Tor couldn’t help a grin at that. Plain and ordinary this goddess of hotness was not.
And he sensed she knew it as she said, “Your PA made it clear you won’t settle for anything less than the best. And I have to say, I don’t intend to disappoint, Mr Arquin.”
Fuck, the image that just slid into his head was X-rated.
“Tor,” he responded gruffly.
She blushed a little more, her gaze panning quickly down his chest, then up to his braided head.
“Tor.” She almost breathed it. “Yes, of course, and please—call me Shona.”
“Sure. Shona.”
They stared at each other for another brief moment, an electric energy pulsing in the air between them.
“Please take a seat—Tor.” She indicated a seat with an elegant hand. The way his name rolled off her tongue made a typically orcish image squeeze into his brain cells. For a brief second he found himself imagining her gasping his name as he parted her legs with his big hands and found her sopping wet for him.
Enough.
Tor gave a grunt, bowed his head, and sat in the large chair she’d indicated. She catered for every size monster here, he noted.
“Would you like a tea? Coffee?”
“I’m strapped for time, other commitments, so let’s get down to business.”
“Absolutely.” She picked up a file off the desk, then sat and spliced one elegant leg over the other. Tor adjusted the collar of his shirt and kept his eyes well above the collar of hers.
“So, fill me in on what type of property you’re looking for. Price range, for starters.”
He shrugged. “Infinite.”
Her elegant eyebrows quirked. “No upper limit?”
“Nope.”
“So we’re talking high end of the market then?”
He gave a snort. “Top of the range.” He paused. “I’m fully aware large houses are rare as hen’s teeth in Motham.”
She wrinkled her pretty nose. “They are indeed. Other than on Motham Hill.”
“Guess I’ll have to buy Motham Palace, then.”
