Page 73 of My Orc Billionaire
“Well then…” He blew out a breath that ruffled my hair. “There’s only one thing to be done. So we can get on with our lives, human and orc.”
“What? Take a shower?” I teased.
His tone was gentle. “No, something more important, Mate. Will you marry me, Riven?”
Epilogue
Abydos
Laughter rangaround me on December 24th as I settled back in my chair, my wine glass dangling casually from two fingers. Contentment filled me as my gaze settled on each of my family in turn.
No, not merecontentment. Peace.
I was at peace.
Sharon had the place of honor at the head of the table, and the memory of the way she’d stammered adorably when I’d let her sit there still made me smile. She was speaking animatedly with her older daughter Brooke, seating at her left hand, about flower arrangements and centerpieces.
On Brooke’s other side, Sami offered suggestions about how to decorate my back patio, where the ceremony was going to be held, while Tarkhan butted in with unhelpful tips that had Brooke rolling her eyes and teasing him right back.
It was nice to see her fitting in so well with the rest of the family and—I knew it made Riven happy—the Eastshore community.
Riven’s sister had the same green eyes and slender build, but the similarities ended there; Brooke’s curls hung well past her shoulders, and although her tastes weren’t ostentatious, her clothing and jewelry were expensive. Since her job as a wedding planner for therich and famous out in Los Angeles required her to put on a show, I suppose this made sense.
She wasn’t as beautiful as my Mate, though.
I raised my brow at Riven, sitting beside me. “Are you sure you don’t want any say in this,dkaar?” I murmured. “Your sister’s going to plan your wedding without any of your input.”
She merely grinned and flicked her fingers dismissively. “I’llhappilyturn the whole thing over to Brooke, as long as I’m in charge of the menus. Although I have no idea what one serves at a New Year’s Eve wedding. But Brooke knows what she’s doing, after all, and it’s not like it’s going to be abigwedding…”
Since we’d already invited her immediate family, her extended family, every single orc on Eastshore and their families, I couldn’t imagine what she would have considered abigwedding. I was already getting nervous about the idea of standing in front of so many people, and was glad I’d banned any press coverage.
“I’m just impressed she can get this planned so quickly,” Garrak announced from Riven’s other side, helping himself to two more twice-baked potatoes. “Human engagements usually last for longer than five weeks, you know.”
Actually, no I didn’t. Every day, I was learning more about human culture from my wonderful Mate. I thought I’d understood the people I’d feared for so long, but there were nuances that went far beyond that delightful little clitoris of hers.
But Garrak, who’d spent months in the hospital and rehab centers, learning how to walk again, and who regularly traveled to the casinos in Vegas, was far more familiar with human traditions and customs than I was.
Luckily, I didn’t have to answer, because Riven chuckled as she passed the second mushroom souffle—Garrak had already destroyed the first, which was understandable. “Why would we need to wait? We’re Mated already.” She sent me a grin. “Abydos can’t get rid of me now, so we might as well make it official.”
“Hear, hear!” called out Sharon laughingly, and Brooke raised a glass with a fond smile as she made a suggestion about champagne selections.
“I don’t care,” I told her. “Honestly. As long as Riven is happy?—”
“And you include this souffle on the menu,” Garrak cut in. “Right, Sylvik?”
My assistant hadn’t said much during the meal, and it was obvious why…at least to Garrak and myself. The male had been acting strange since Riven’s casual introduction—“Sylvik, you know my sister, Brooke, right?”—and I didn’t think I was imagining the feral look on his face when his gaze tracked her movements.
And occasionally, I caught Brooke blushing, although she very clearly didn’t look at Sylvik.
Now the younger male startled at the sound of his name, his fork clattering on the plate. Garrak began to chuckle, and Sylvik scowled.
“Yes,” he blurted. “I agree!”
I doubted he had any idea what we were talking about.
As Garrak leaned across the table to pass the souffle to Tark, who was makinggive it heregestures, I stretched my free arm across the back of Riven’s chair. As much as I wanted to get her alone and give her the gift I’d picked out for her Christmas present—a desk ornament made from the last piece of ore we’d taken out of the Radiance Mine—I was content to wait, especially when she reached up to twine her fingers through mine.
Tomorrow, we would visit her mother’s home for a meal of baked salmon—Riven assured me it was delicious. Then we would gather in the evening at Aswan’s house, where Simbel and Memnon would bring their Mates, and we’d light the bonfire in the backyard and watch the kitlings play. Aswan had also invited Sakkara’s and Giza’s families.
