My Orc Protector (Eastshore Isle #14)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Stevie

Five-fifteen…five-seventeen…five-nineteen. This condo building was bigger than it looked from the outside; I was impressed by how many individual living spaces there were. It reminded me of a bigger city, not someplace as quaint as Eastshore Isle.

This, according to Dad’s instructions, was where Garrak Longspear lived.

I remembered how pissed off my father had been to lose that poker game against the big orc, although I hadn’t been there.

He’d ranted and railed for like two weeks after, then got real quiet about it.

When he suddenly announced last week that I was going to have to head to the East Coast to pay off the guy, I’d honestly forgotten about it.

I guess Dad had come up with the money somehow.

After some consideration, I arranged my backpack on the floor beside the door, trying to tuck it out of the way. This wasn’t the first time I’d acted as a go-between, and I tried to stay professional.

Granted, blue jeans and a leather jacket wasn’t exactly a polished look, but I was delivering a check, not giving a boardroom presentation.

Still, I took the time to fluff my short hair and run my tongue over my bottom lip to try to make it look shinier.

After some consideration, I removed the jacket and draped it over my backpack—this looked like a classy area, I probably didn’t have to worry about shit being stolen out here—although my favorite purple t-shirt wasn’t that much better of a look.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “You can do this.”

I pulled Dad’s envelope out of my back pocket, clicked the stud in my tongue against the back of my front teeth—a nervous habit my dentist hated—and knocked on the door before I lost my nerve.

It was late enough in the day that Mr. Longspear should be home.

I didn’t know what kind of job he had, but it was after dinner, so there was a greater chance he’d be here.

I could hand off Dad’s money, head back to the ferry terminal, and get a room at that disgustingly cheap motel I’d noticed on the mainland…

After a long moment of my heart pounding in my chest—nerves, right? So illogical—I lifted my fist to pound on the door again.

And the damn thing opened, leaving me about to smack my fist against the chest of the biggest, greenest monster I’d ever been this close to. I tipped my head back, eyes wide…and only just stopped myself from breathing “Wow” out loud.

I thought it awfully damn hard though.

Mr. Longspear was…

Wow.

I wasn’t completely out of the loop; I knew that we had orcs living among us, and I knew that Eastshore Isle had more than the average. And I knew that Garrak Longspear was earning a name for himself on the professional poker circuit.

I’d just never met him in person.

And suddenly, that seemed like a huge shame.

He was huge, of course, and green, with this sexy tattoo that disappeared under his scrunched-up sleeve, and intriguingly straight tusks that jutted from his lower lip. His beard was precise, but his hair was wavy, and—

“Can I help you?”

And his voice was deep and…vibratey? Is that a word? It seemed to cause something low in my gut to shiver, and I found myself pressing my thighs together to catch a hold of that delicious sensation.

I liked the way his lips curled slightly—almost arrogantly—as he studied me. Any chance he was as intrigued by me as I was by him?

Fucking pay attention! He asked you a question!

“Oh! Y-Yeah.” I shook my head, debated apologizing for my distraction, then shoved Dad’s envelope toward him. “Just delivering this, Mr. Longspear.”

“Garrak,” he corrected me with an amused tone as he took the envelope. Our fingers brushed, and I thought he might have done it on purpose.

And I wondered if he felt the same flash of warmth I did.

“The postal system is changing.” His gaze swept over me. “For the better.”

Well damn, was he flirting with me? I smirked. “I wouldn’t mind a steady gig like that, but I’m just a courier.” I nodded to the envelope. “Trevor Hendricks is sending what he owes, apparently.”

Surprise flashed over the big male’s face, and suddenly I wasn’t the focus of his attention any longer. “It’s about damn time,” he rumbled.

When the claw at the end of one thumb extended, and he used that to slice open the envelope, I gasped. But he ignored me to pull out the paper inside.

There wasn’t a check?

I mean, I knew Dad’s finances were shit, but he’d won in that big game against the LeClair brothers, yeah? It wasn’t like he was going to stuff fifty thousand cash in that envelope—it was too thin—but I’d expected a check.

Fuck, it had better not be another IOU. The asshole had too many of those.

Judging from the way Garrak’s expression had hardened into something a little scary as he read the letter, I guessed it was. I found myself beginning to back away. But when he lifted his eyes to me, and I saw the fury in those dark depths, I froze.

“What in the hells is this?” he growled, lifting the hand that still clamped the letter and the envelope. “This was your plan?”

My gaze flicked warily between the paper and his face. “I don’t…what?”

“Was this your idea, or Hendricks’” He shook the letter. “He thinks this is going to fly?”

My heart was pounding against my ribcage, that worry back, so much stronger than before. “Mr. Longspear, I don’t know what the letter says. Is it another IOU?” In which case, why send me?

The big male stepped forward, so he was standing in the doorway, as he lifted the letter to read.

“I told you I don’t have the fifty thousand, but apparently a monster is too stupid to understand that.

I still don’t have it, but I have something better.

The whore who just handed this to you? She’s here to do whatever you want to repay my debt.

I’ll bet a filthy beast like you can come up with some way to use her that’s worth fifty thousand.

” His voice got even harder as his gaze flew over the words.

“And you tell her that if she gets cold feet, I’ll tell the LeClair brothers about what really happened in New Orleans. ”

The orc lowered the paper, glaring at me…but I wasn’t paying attention.

No.

I was staring, wide-eyed at his chest, trying to get my breathing and my pulse under control.

Whore. Use her.

What?

What?

My father had…what? What did he expect me to do?

You know damn well what he expects you to do. It was all there in the letter. That bastard sent you to Eastshore Isle to fuck your way out of his debt and didn’t even give you warning.

Would it have mattered?

Hell yes, it would have! I would’ve taken that plane ticket and…

And what?

The LeClair brothers have a far reach.

I was screwed, wasn’t I? I had to do what Dad wanted—what that asshole wanted, or I’d end up in even more trouble. I didn’t have a choice.

So I swallowed, straightened my shoulders, and plastered a smile on my lips.

I could do this. I had to.

Garrak

Humans generally had no idea how perceptive orcs’ senses really were. For instance, I doubt any of this female’s friends would have noticed her distress as I read the letter, considering how good she was at hiding her response.

But I’d been watching her from the corner of my eye when I read She’s here to do whatever you want to repay my debt, and I scented her surprise.

And the Or else I’ll tell the LeClair brothers what really happened in New Orleans? The little female’s response to that smelled of pure terror.

I refolded the handwritten note and took my time sliding it back into the envelope, mainly so I could study her, this strange female who’d arrived on my doorstep.

She seemed average height for a human—in that the top of her head reached my shoulders—with cropped light hair and several rings and studs in each ear, and one in her nose.

I found myself almost as fascinated by that as I was by her responses to the letter.

When I finally met her eyes, though, she’d schooled her features into a smile.

A fake smile—I could still smell her fear—but one which I guessed was supposed to be sensual.

When she planted one hand on her hip and lifted her other hand to play with the neckline of her t-shirt—a move intended to draw my gaze to her breasts, I was certain—she lowered her eyelids and pretended sexual interest.

And fuck me, because my Kteer responded. I found myself gripping the doorjamb, trying to control that primitive part of me that was urging me to taste take claim now lick claim!

“Who are you?” I rasped and immediately regretted allowing my attraction to show.

There was a flash of triumph in the little female’s dark eyes as her lips curled more easily. “Stevie—” She winced just slightly. “Smith. Stevie Smith. Trevor Hendricks sent me.”

“To pay off his debt.” I didn’t ask the question, but instead tapped the envelope against my thigh, reminding me of what the bastard had offered. “Hendricks shouldn’t play poker if he took this damn long to pay what he loses.”

The female—Stevie—glanced away, up the hall of the condo, as if she was uncomfortable holding this conversation out in public. “Yeah, well, I guess he doesn’t have fifty thousand lying around.”

Despite myself, I found myself intrigued by her gentle Southern accent and the graceful way her neck curved as she turned away. The sight of that skin rising above the neckline of that completely unsexy purple shirt made my claws extend, so very tempted to rip it away and expose more of her.

After all, she was my payment, wasn’t she?

Gods below, you need to get laid. She’s not a poker prize, she’s a female!

But Hendricks had sent her…

I curled my fingers into a fist, claws digging into my palm to keep me focused. “Why are you here?”