But wait.Wait. Rathgarr hadn’t even moved, the deceitful bastard, and he wasstillexposed, that softened, shining-wet sight at his groin brazenly hanging out of his open trousers. As though he wasn’t ashamed of this in the least. Almost as though he… hewantedthese new orcs to see what Geva had just done to him.
And as she gaped at him, frantically digesting that, his big hand snapped out toward her, curling around her wrist. “Peace, my sweet,” he said, and though the words sounded light, Geva didn’t miss the meaningful clench of his fingers, or the practiced tilt of his smile. “I told you my brother has been coming to see me, ach?”
Oh.Ohhhh. So these orcs clearly couldn’t know the truth about who she was, right? Which meant this — this horrible, hanging moment, with no discussion or preparation whatsoever — was part of their deception, already. Part of Geva’sjob. And curse Rathgarr, but he could have damn well given her some warning, and he hadnotsaid anything about…public displays, had he?!
“Oh, yes, naturally, of course, I remember,” Geva heard herself babbling, her uneasy eyes glancing again toward the two approaching orcs. Who were both staring straight back, the tall, lean one with cool appraisal in his eyes, while the big bulky one just looked hard and grim and forbidding. And perhaps — Geva twitched as his heavy gaze shifted toward Rathgarr — perhaps even downright hostile.
“Brothers, this is my sweet new mate, Geva Okoro,” Rathgarr said now, his voice slow and careful on her name, mimicking her own accent with surprising accuracy. “And poppet, this is Killik” — he nodded toward the lean orc, before angling his gaze to the bigger one — “and Ulfarr, both of Clan Skai.”
The lean orc — Killik — inclined his head toward Geva, while the big Ulfarr orc huffed a deep grunt, his frowning eyes gone even narrower on Rathgarr’s face. A show of blatant suspicion that Rathgarr pretended not to notice, though his hand still around Geva’s wrist clenched tighter, his smile a little too fixed on his mouth.
“Ulfarr and I were raised together,” Rathgarr continued, with highly unnatural blandness. “Though it has been many summers since we have last spoken, ach, brother? As for Killik” — Rathgarr’s smile toward him felt slightly more sincere — “he is one of Orc Mountain’s best scouts, and he has been bringing me much news of home. As well as trouncing my portly arse in combat, whenever he can wheedle me into this.”
His voice had gone wry and amused, matching the self-deprecating tilt of his mouth — and if it hadn’t been for the tightness of his hand still around Geva’s wrist, she might have almost believed that he and this Killik, at least, were old, familiar friends. But there was most certainly more to it — especially with Ulfarr still standing there glowering like that — and Rathgarr was clearly still making some kind of statement, and fully expecting Geva to do the same.
So Geva drew in a shaky breath and pasted on a wide smile, before turning and giving Rathgarr’s arm a playful little swat. “Your arse is not portly in theleast, love,” she informed him, with what she hoped was an affectionate air, before wrenching her gaze back to Killik and Ulfarr. “And it’s very nice to meet you both. I apologize for my agitation, I just didn’t expect —”
She flapped her hand toward Rathgarr’s still-bared groin with genuine consternation, and his answering smile looked almost relieved this time, or maybe even indulgent. “Ach, my sweet mate is yet new to the ways of orcs,” he told Ulfarr and Killik, as he finally released Geva’s wrist, and pulled up his trousers again. “Now settle yourself, my skittish sweetling, whilst we share our news. Ach?”
He’d patted his still-spread thigh as he spoke, in another very clear order — so Geva again sucked back a bracing breath, and obeyed. Sinking heavily down onto his solid thigh, while Rathgarr’s big arm curled around her waist, and hitched her a little closer. Wanting her to do this. To pretend.
But he wasn’t even looking at her now, his deceptively genial eyes again focused on Killik and Ulfarr. Ulfarr still hadn’t moved, still frowning with palpable hostility, but Killik sank his lean form down onto a nearby rock, and began speaking. His voice low and rasping, the words in a language that Geva couldn’t at all identify.
But Rathgarr easily replied in kind, the strange words deep and rumbling in his close familiar voice. Speaking with careless, casual ease, despite the still-tight clutch of his hand against Geva’s waist, and the tension all over his big body beneath her. Betraying his certain awareness of the huge Ulfarr orc still glaring at him, challenging him,judginghim.
And suddenly, Geva couldn’t bear to keep sitting there on him like a lump, like a gods-damned decorative accessory. No. She could do this. Hishelpmate.
“Excuse me, love,” she murmured in Rathgarr’s ear, perhaps still loud enough for the orcs to hear. And then, without waiting for his answer, she slipped off his thigh, and made straight for his pack. It was lying nearby, and she could feel the prickle of Rathgarr’s gaze as she knelt beside it, and began rummaging inside. But he just kept speaking to Killik, smooth and easy, as though he weren’t even slightly confused. Almost as though… he trusted her.
So Geva just kept going, pulling out the provisions they’d purchased before leaving the inn that morning — biscuits, and berries, and a good quantity of salted pork. And after yet more digging — gods, Rathgarr had truly obscene amounts of plunder in here, and so manyclothes— she thankfully found two silver dinner-plates, too. And once she’d arranged a choice selection of food on both plates, she strode over to Killik and Ulfarr, and held out the plates toward them.
“A little something to eat, while you meet with my mate,” she said, giving them her brightest smile, and a low curtsey. “Fresh from the inn this morning.”
Killik’s brows snapped up, and he instantly snatched the plate from Geva’s hand — while Ulfarr, who was now looming close behind him, loudly harrumphed, and crossed his huge arms over his chest. “And how do we ken,” he said, his voice deep and deliberate, “that these are safe to eat? That this is not yet another devious Ash-Kai scheme?”
Ulfarr’s eyes had again narrowed toward Rathgarr, who was doing a creditable job of conveying blank bewilderment, rather than the fury Geva was sure he felt. And despite her own inward acknowledgement of Ulfarr’s point — Rathgarr was most certainly not to be trusted — she squared her shoulders, and mustered up a bemused smile of her own.
“Well, I did watch Rathgarr buy these provisions fresh this morning, so I’m quite certain they’re safe,” she said, as lightly as she could. “But I will say, he also refused to buy me dessert! That is indeed a devious Ash-Kai scheme, if I ever heard one. Don’t you think?”
Killik clearly agreed, smirking as he tossed a piece of dried pork into his mouth, while Rathgarr flashed Geva a broad, approving grin. “You ken it brings me great joy to fatten you up for me, poppet,” he purred toward her. “But my Ash-Kai need to steal away your dessert should be far too strong to endure, and” — he gave his own belly a rueful-looking pat — “I am already portly enough, you ken?”
Geva couldn’t help a genuine choke of laughter, a roll of her eyes toward him — and in return, Rathgarr laughed too, the sound deep and rich, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The sight of it so suddenly, bizarrely compelling that she couldn’t seem to look away, and she only belatedly noticed Killik snatching the second plate from her hand, and thrusting it up into Ulfarr’s chest.
“Is good,” Killik said, in heavily accented common-tongue, with another tilt of his head toward her. “Our thanks, Ash-Kai.”
Ash-Kai. The word shivered strangely up Geva’s spine, but she managed another cheery smile before turning and fleeing toward Rathgarr again. And while he didn’t thank her, or even acknowledge what she’d done, she could have sworn she felt his big body slightly relaxing as he again pulled her down into his lap, his arm curving tighter around her than before.
The rest of their conversation seemed to flow more smoothly after that, and Geva couldn’t help feeling rather smug at the sight of Ulfarr carefully picking his plate clean. Killik, on the other hand, had inhaled his lunch with astonishing speed, and was now standing and stretching his arms over his head, angling Rathgarr a cool, appraising smile.
“Now, brother,” he said. “Another sparring match, ach? Me and you, whilst these two judge?”
Rathgarr’s reply was something between a laugh and a groan, but Geva could again feel the telltale stiffness in his body against her. Even as he nodded, shifting himself out from under her, and then — her throat convulsed — he began stripping off his clothes, and dumping them into her lap.
First was his usual silver fur from across his shoulders, and then his huge, heavy black cloak. And then, with a quick flick of his claws, he unlaced the neck of his crisp white tunic, and then drew that off, too. Confronting Geva’s blinking eyes with the sight of his broad bare chest, somehow looking even more powerful in the bright daylight. What with all that corded rippled muscle, the sheer size of it, the breadth of his massive shoulders…
“You shall not be alarmed by some sparring between us, ach, poppet?” Rathgarr asked her, his voice still deceptively genial, despite the brief flare of command in his eyes. “Killik shall not castrate or kill me. Not today, at least.”
“He’d damn well better not,” Geva made herself reply, giving what she hoped was a teasing smile as she took the tunic from his hands. “Best of luck, love. I can’t wait to see youdemolishhim, as a proper Ash-Kai should.”
