Page 67 of Rough Riding Orc Cowboy

Power lived in his every movement, grace in his every shift. He handled the knife with the same surety that he handled everything, like nothing in the world could shake him. If he knew I was watching, he gave no sign, but oh, how Iwaswatching.

How could I not?

My fingers twitched at my sides, and I ached with an absurd, reckless need to follow one of those droplets down his body with my tongue, to let my hands learn the texture of his skin, the heat beneath. It wasn’t fair that he could stand there, oblivious, while my insides twisted into a starving thing. I tore my gaze away before I sank against him. Let myself go if only just once.

Stop.Stop.

I focused on the task at hand, helping prepare dinner. Wanting him wouldn’t change anything. All it would do was break me in the end.

I cleared my throat. “I'll handle the sides.”

His grunt meant approval or permission. That was all I needed. I set to work, peeling and chopping vegetables, gathering containers of herbs, and dicing cragroot. The rhythmic movements steadied me and kept my hands busy while my mind darted back to how he'd felt beneath me, how he'd looked in the water, how his gaze had met mine with heat.

Had I misread him from the start?

Ruugar wasn't the type to play games. If he'd been affected by me, it meant something. I just didn’t have any experience to know what.

Feeling a bit more upbeat, I finished the cragroots, arranging them in foil packets with oil and spices. Ruugar passed the cleaned fish to me without a word, and I carefully wrapped and seasoned each fillet, making sure everything was prepped for the grill.

When I set the last one down, Ruugar finally looked at me. Approval gleamed in his dark eyes.

Warmth spread through my chest. I liked this. Learning, helping. Cooking alongside him.

His lips twitched, like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure what or how.

Say it. Whatever it is.

I kept my breathing even, my hands still. But on the inside? I was anything but calm. As I waited, I swallowedhard. The moment stretched between us, and I wished, for the first time in forever, that someone would reach for me.

No, thathewould.

Whatever it was, he didn’t say it. He didn’t reach out. His turn away felt final, cutting through the fragile bit of hope I wasn’t supposed to hold onto. I told myself not to react, not to feel it like a wound. But the ache was already there, flowering in my lungs, choking out air I wasn’t meant to keep.

As far as I could tell, he didn’t even glance my way again.

Chapter 23

Ruugar

Deep blue night still clung to the sky when my eyes opened. Quiet lay over the camp, the firepit's faint embers flickering across the front tent canvas and breeze rustling the fabric. Inside the tent, the air hung still and warm, scented with evergreen andher.

Beth lay curled on her side, her breathing even, her lips parted in sleep. Soft strands of hair had escaped her braid, and they framed her face in golden wisps. In sleep, she showed no tension, no wariness. This was her, open and unguarded.

My chest clenched tight.

She was beautiful. Not in a grand, breathtaking way, but in the way she existed. Fierce, stubborn, and determined. The way she smiled when she forgot to guard herself. The way she looked at me sometimes, curious and confused, as if she didn’t quite know whatI could mean to her.

The longing in me sharpened, tangling with things I wasn’t able to speak out loud. Instinct demanded I trace my fingers across her cheek, feel the warmth of her skin beneath my hand. But I didn’t. Icouldn’t. Not yet, not until I’d finished showing her how much she meant to me.

Grinding my teeth, I forced myself to move, slipping from the tent. The cold air sent a shiver across my skin, but it was welcome, necessary. Anything to steady the storm churning its way through me. I could swallow this hunger, bury it beneath duty and reason, but it would not die. It gnawed on my insides, demanding I let it free. It tore up the edges of my control with each beat of my heart.

Soon. Soon I could let it go free. Once she realized how much she meant to me.

The sky was burning copper at the edges as I settled into making breakfast. My hands worked without thought, cracking chumble eggs into a bowl to whip, cutting slabs of bread thick enough to hold any hunger at bay. It was a simple meal, meant to fuel today’s journey, and it would be ready the moment everyone wanted to eat.

But my mind wasn’t on food.

Beth. Was. Everything. I had more plans to win her for the day. Would she understand why I wanted her close? She was so determined to be independent, and I wouldn’t change that about her.

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