Page 10 of Resisting the Wicked Orc

Her tail lashed once, twice. Then she nodded, a sharp jerk of her chin. “Fine. Dinner. After I get what I came for.”

I studied her face, searching for deception. The bond between us pulsed, urging trust where caution was warranted. But beneath her bravado, I sensed genuine desperation. Whatever she wanted that relic for, it mattered. Deeply.

And hell if I wasn’t curious to see how this played out.

“Instead of dinner,” I said, letting my gaze drift deliberately down her body, “how about we get a room?”

CHAPTER FOUR

ZRAL

Rava stumbled against me as we pushed through the inn’s doors, her giggles echoing in the quiet lobby. Her body fit perfectly against mine, her tail curling possessively around my thigh as she leaned into my side.

“Oops,” she slurred loudly, batting her eyelashes up at me. “You’re so strong.”

“Careful there, Red.” I bit back a grin, playing along with our drunken couple act. “You’ll need all those limbs working for later.”

Her tail tightened around my thigh in warning, but her smile never faltered. “Promises, promises,” she teased, loud enough for the night clerk to hear. “You know what your... arms do to me.”

The clerk looked up as we approached the desk, his expression a practiced blend of professional courtesy and mild judgment.

“Room for two?” he asked, already typing away on his keyboard.

“The best you’ve got,” I said, letting my hand slide lower on Rava’s hip. The gesture was for show, but the heat of her skinthrough the thin fabric of her clothes sent a jolt of desire straight to my cock. “It’s a special night.”

Rava giggled again, the sound so unlike her normal sharp tones that I almost laughed. She nuzzled into my neck, and for a heartbeat, I forgot this was an act. That cinnamon and smoke scent filled my lungs, making my head spin more effectively than any alcohol.

“How special?” she murmured against my skin.

I swallowed hard. “Very.”

The clerk cleared his throat. “Room 306. Top floor, corner suite. Best view in the house.”

I pulled out my wallet, aware of Rava’s eyes on my hands. This close, I could see the fine dusting of darker red freckles across her nose, a splash of color against crimson skin. Everything about this woman begged to be explored, to be discovered. Claimed.

“Oh!” Rava pressed herself against me, her curves molding to my body in a way that made it hard to remember this wasn’t real. “Baby, look. They have a bar. Can we have one more drink? Please?”

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout that shouldn’t have been so damn appealing.

I signed the receipt, pocketing my copy and the room key before turning to the bar. Francis sat at the far end, still nursing his drink. He seemed absorbed in his phone, but his posture remained rigid, aware. Dangerous.

This was mad. Bonkers. Insane. She studied me with wary hope in her amber eyes, her tail coiled around my leg as if anchoring us together. As if she feared I’d vanish instead of the other way around.

Screw it.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

“One,” I agreed, steering her toward the bar with a hand on the small of her back. “Then upstairs.”

Her fingers tangled with mine as she pulled me toward the bar, her steps exaggerated. I played along, letting my thumb stroke over her knuckles. The simple contact shouldn’t have felt so electric.

We took seats at the opposite end of the bar from Francis, close enough to keep him in sight but not so close as to draw attention. Rava perched on the stool, leaning forward enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. I forced my eyes away, signaling the bartender.

“Whiskey, neat,” I ordered. “And for the lady...”

“Something sweet,” Rava said, leaning into me. “Like you.”

I snorted. “Sweet isn’t the word most people use to describe me.”

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