Page 31 of The Savage Vow
“You need to get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death,” she fussed.
Bula smirked and removed her cloak. She hung it up on the empty hook next to Orlena. She turned, and Orlena thrust one of the towels into her hands. She simply watched Orlena as she ran the towel over her head and face.
“I don’t have clothes your size,” Orlena murmured.
“I don’t need them,” Bula replied softly. She toed off her boots and drenched socks. She shed her soaked tunic and trews without hesitation.
Orlena cheeks warmed. She spun away and placed the other towels down on the chair.
She flew to her room and picked up her robe resting on the edge of her bed. It wasn’t going to fit Bula perfectly, but it would allow her to be covered. She went back into the room and found Bula standing with a towel wrapped around her torso. Her long muscular legs were on display, and a flood of heat spread through Orlena’s center.
“Here. So you don’t have to sit naked. It’s not much, but at least it’s something,” Orlena said.
“Thanks.” Bula took it from her.
Their fingers brushed slightly, and that same zip of electricity rippled up Orlena’s arm. Her eyes widened at the sensation. She averted her eyes as Bula dropped the towels and slipped the robe on. As much as she wanted to peek at the beautiful orc, she resisted.
“I appreciate this.”
Orlena turned back to her and sighed. The robe didn’t hide anything. If anything, it highlighted Bula’s taunt muscles, her broad shoulders, her full breasts, tapered waist, and thick thighs. Orlena swallowed hard, her heart racing.
“Come. We need to hang your clothes near the fire so they can dry.” Orlena motioned to the hearth.
“I need to wring them out. May I go into your bathing room?”
“Of course.” Orlena jerked her head in a nod.
Bula gathered her clothing and disappeared into the small room. Orlena released a sigh. She was sure Bula would be hungry. She grabbed two bowls and spoons then went back to the stew. She lifted the top and gave it another good stir. Her stomach rumbled again.
Good.
She needed a distraction from the sexy female orc. Orlena didn’t know what was wrong with her. She’d never had this strong of a reaction to anyone. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been intimate with anyone. The last female was someone who had settled in Soza for a short time before she’d moved on to another town. Unlike Orlena, Lydia hadn’t been bound to any contracts.
Bula returned shortly just as Orlena was filling their bowls with the delicious stew.
“That smells wonderful,” Bula murmured. She quickly arranged her clothing near the hearth.
“I hope you are hungry,” Orlena said.
“I’m famished. I don’t think I’ve eaten since earlier today,” Bula said.
Orlena handed Bula her bowl then quickly filled her own. They settled down close to the hearth where their knees brushed. It allowed the heat from the fire to wash over them and chase away the chill from outside. Nervousness filled Orlena. She’d had friends and neighbors over to share a meal often, but an orc—never.
“Oh, the bread. I almost forgot.” She jumped up from her seat and went over to the counter where she’d placed the loaf. She snagged a knife and the butter and brought everything back to where they sat.
It was an intimate setting. They ate in a comfortable silence, but soon Orlena couldn’t help but ask the question that was burning in her chest.
“Why? Why come to see me in this storm?”
Bula stared at her. Those amber eyes of hers created a fluttering in Orlena’s stomach.
“Because the thought of not seeing you tonight was worse than any damage a storm could do.”
Something inside Orlena cracked open.
She bit her lip; the air between them felt charged. Thick with an undeniable need and longing.
Bula reached over and took Orlena’s hand in hers. She brushed Orlena’s knuckles with her thumb.
