Page 18 of The Passionate Orc
"I know, but?—"
"No buts." He squeezed my hand gently. "Let's go back to your place and figure this out."
An hour later, we sprawled on my living room floor, surrounded by papers covered in Nar's surprisingly neat handwriting. Fundraising ideas ranged from the practical to the absurd.
"An art auction?" I suggested, chewing on the end of my pencil.
"Good, but boring," Nar countered. "What about a paint-a-thon? People pay to watch you create art for 24 hours straight."
I laughed. "Nobody wants to watch me paint for that long. I get grumpy after hour five."
"I'd watch." The intensity in his eyes made my cheeks blush.
"What about—" I started, then stopped as a thought struck me. "Wait. Your paintings."
Nar stiffened slightly. His art was still a sensitive subject. It had taken weeks for him to show me his work, worried his clan would see his painting as a weakness. "What about them?"
"They're amazing, Nar. That landscape series you did—the one with the mountains at sunset—it's incredible."
He shifted uncomfortably, but I could see the pleasure in his eyes. "They're just practice pieces."
"They're beautiful. And..." I hesitated, then plunged ahead. "What if we sold them as part of the fundraiser? Not just as paintings, but as 'authentic orc-made art.'"
Nar blinked. "You want to sell my art as... novelty items?"
"Not novelty exactly, but—" I sat up straighter, excitement building. "Think about it. There's a huge market for unique cultural art. Your work combines traditional techniques with orc symbolism. It's special, Nar. And people would pay for that uniqueness."
He considered this, his brow furrowed. "You think people would buy art because an orc made it?"
"I think people would buy it because it's beautiful and because it offers a perspective they've never seen before," I corrected. "The fact that you're breaking stereotypes by being an orc artist would just be part of the story."
A slow smile spread across his face. "You want to use my cultural identity as a marketing tool."
"Is that weird? I'm sorry if?—"
He cut me off with a laugh. "Emryn, my clan sells tourist trinkets with 'authentic orc craftsmanship' stamped on them. Half of them are made in factories." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "This would at least be the real thing."
Relief washed over me. "So you're not offended?"
"I'm..." He paused, seeming to search for the right words. "I'm touched that you think my work is good enough to sell."
The vulnerability in his voice made my heart squeeze. I moved closer to him, my knee brushing his thigh as I gathered up some papers.
"It's more than good enough. It's extraordinary." I meant it. His art had a raw emotionality that took my breath away.
Nar reached for me then, his large hand cupping my face with surprising gentleness. "You're the only one who's ever seen that part of me."
The air between us thickened. His thumb brushed my bottom lip, and I felt my pulse leap in response. Before I could overthink it, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.
He responded immediately, pulling me closer until I was practically in his lap. His kiss was exactly like him, powerful yet restrained, passionate yet careful. When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
"Sorry," I whispered, not sorry at all. "Got carried away with the fundraising excitement."
His rumbling laugh vibrated through me. "Feel free to get carried away anytime." His eyes darkened. "But we should probably get back to planning."
With reluctance, I shifted back to my spot on the floor, though my lips still tingled from his kiss. "Right. So, orc art is one idea. What else?"
We spent the next two hours brainstorming with the list growing increasingly ridiculous.
