Page 8 of One Forbidden Night with Her Orc Boss

“Meet me outside in five. I’ll grab my keys,” he says, then runs downstairs to his office. I go to the restroom and splash cold water on my face and give myself another pep talk.

“It’s work. He’s the boss. It’s all going to be okay.”

I almost believe myself.

Until I step outside into the bright sunshine to see Captain Suthorn waiting for me, straddling his motorcycle.

Chapter 6

Brann

The shock on Beckett’s face when she comes outside is truly golden. Wish I had a camera. Acting ignorant, I hold out the extra helmet for her. She’s cautious, but she takes it and straps it on. I know I’m going to hell over this. Or wherever stubborn, stupid orcs who refuse to acknowledge logic go. But there is no way in this universe that I’m going to let her take a tour of our island with Kaj—the minotaur with a reputation for being a ladies’ man. No way. She’s mine.

“A little unconventional. I forgot I sent the work truck in for an oil change. And your car is still at the mechanic’s.”

“Maybe we should wait? Or take Kaj’s car?” She squeaks out. I shake my head no. The schedule for the rest of the week is packed. I can see the words aboutwork,andpropriety,and whatever else floating in her head. I ignore them all. And after a minute, she slides on behind me. Her thigh snaking against mine until her foot hits the footrest. She wraps her arms around my waist and presses her glorious bosom against my back. I want to purr in satisfaction at the heat of her against me. Oh yes, I’m going to burn in the hell of my own making.

When we hit the town limit sign: “Moonfang Falls: Not on Maps, But on Your Mind,” I accelerate to highway speed and take us up the Wolf’s Ridge. The way she squeezes me with her arms and thighs when the bike lurches forward is exquisite. All I could think about last night was what it would feel like for her arms and legs to be wrapped around me in bed.

When we reach the main trailhead parking lot, I slow down and park the bike. The gravel lot is empty; it’s still early season for midweek hikers to be out here. There’s a clear absence of heat when she unwinds herself from me and steps off the bike. Her dark curly hair springs out toward freedom when she pulls off her helmet.

Off the bike, I explain the history of the park and the trail system for the mountain. I’m just about to deliver my favorite mountain joke—How do mountains hear things? With mountaineers—when she interrupts me.

“Captain Suthorn, no disrespect, but Kaj covered all this back at the station. I could read all about this in a pamphlet. Kaj was going to help me get a feel for distances and places for resources and rescues. You, sir, act like you’re out for a joy ride. I don’t want to waste your time, but I also don’t want to waste mine.”

Damn. She stands, one hand on the curve of her hip, her lips pursed, and her eyes glare a hole into my intentions. I have never thought of our polo shirt and cargo pant uniform as sexy, but damn, she makes it sexy.

“You’re right. I apologize. Let’s walk up here to the fire tower. We can see most of the island from there. I believe that was Kaj’s intention.” Walk away, before I can see whatever incredulous look she’s giving me. It’s like having the judgment angel on my shoulder staring at me with Beckett’s soulful brown eyes. Hearing her footsteps crunch behind me, I point out our native plants and tidbits from previous rescues.

The fire tower is older but has a sturdy ladder going up to the top. It’s one of my favorite spots on the island. Quiet, isolated, with a million-dollar view. I feel like king of the world up here. Hand on the ladder, I point up. “You first.”

“Is this a test of my fear of heights?” Again with her attitude and sass. Against my will, I huff out a laugh.

“Just figure I shouldn’t leave the new guy behind.” That seems to satisfy her.

With one deep sigh, she climbs.

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