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He growled softly into her hair, but she sensed he liked her suggestion.
She snuggled down, smiling to herself. Tonight had been perfect, just what she needed, but soon, she’d be ready to spice it up a bit. She rested her head against his big orc chest and heard the slow thud of his heart against her ear. Like the sea. Or the waterfall on Orc Island.
Tor’s island now.
“Tor,” she said after a moment of blissed out silence.
“Yes, pet?”
“I want us to go back to Orc Island soon. I want to make love in the cave.”
“You’re on, pet.”
Chapter
Twenty-One
Tor stood on the doorstep, listening to Shona’s quick steps coming down the passage. He’d had to go back to Selig for a couple of nights. He’d been worried about leaving her, had asked her to accompany him, but she’d said she had too much work on. He’d reassured himself that Tower Security were monitoring her office and apartment 24/7, and Matteus was on house arrest with a cousin in a province far from here. That was the condition of him being granted bail: that he got the hell out of Motham and the Valley. The Counsel of Towns had been alarmed by his kidnapping of a human, and had slapped an embargo on his plans to develop Mirage training programs.
At least for now.
Tor was thinking of hiring a private investigator to monitor the situation. He didn’t trust Tween humans or Motham authorities to get this right.
But for now, he set those thoughts aside. Because today, Shona was coming to meet his family.
“Wow!” He whistled as she flung open the door, looking absolutely stunning in a floaty pink silk shirt and beautifully cut jeans. It was just the right level of smart casual.
“You look amazing.” He swung her up and they kissed for long moments. It was all he could do to not rip off her clothes and drag her into the bedroom.
But he held back.
“The limo’s outside. Ready?”
She nodded, bright eyed. “I’m so looking forward to meeting them, Tor.”
One look at her excited face, one more kiss from those beautiful lips and he knew it to be true.
Still, he couldn’t help tensing up a little. He glanced at her as they neared the part of Motham where the houses became low mud brick buildings, jammed in close together, trying to read her expression.
She was watching the scene, rapt: a mother carrying one babe in a hammock on her back another strapped to her front, feeding from her breast as she walked. Another orc carrying a big sack of wood in a traditional basket on his head. The wrestling club on the corner of his street, where orcs were doing a kickboxing class out in the dusty ring, amid laughter and jocularity.
“This is orc life uncensored,” he explained, forcing himself to smile.
“It’s so vibrant.” Shona’s voice was full of genuine awe. “I’ve never been asked to sell houses here, so I don’t know this part of Motham at all.”
“Orcs don’t sell houses, they pass them down through the family, from parents to eldest orcling.”
“What if someone dies childless?”
“Then the property is given away to the nearest kinship group. No orc is ever without a clan.”
“I like that,” Shona said. “Even though I’d be out of business if everyone worked that way.”
“Mind you,” Tor said, “this is the better end of town. The homes closer to the Tip are pretty basic. Just mud huts really, no running water or power.”
Her brows furrowed. “That’s not good.”
“It’s not good at all. I’ve been thinking I need to do something to fix this situation. Bringing orclings up without proper sanitation is not acceptable. And there’s still discrimination in the mines for orcs. I could fix that too.”
