The Wolf Prince (5 page)

“Be my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

“You know, like we were dating.”

His forehead wrinkled. It was odd how some things he knew, and other things went right over his head, as if he didn’t quite
understand the English language. She was leaning more toward the idea he might be from another country. She was pretty sure Surlock wasn’t an American name—first or last.

“Pretending we were in love,” she said.

His eyes widened. “That would be a good job. Yes, I would enjoy that kind of work.” His gaze roamed over her in a way that only a blind person wouldn’t guess what he was thinking.

“No fringe benefits. It would only be pretend.” She wanted to get that straight right up front.

“I don’t understand ‘fringe benefits,’” he said.

“Then I’ll make sure I explain them very well.”

And then she thought about what she was saying. Had she lost her freakin’ mind? No fringe benefits?
She
wanted the fringe benefits, dammit!

Of course, he didn’t know what no fringe benefits meant. She didn’t have to tell him it had anything to do with sex. She could lie and say it meant something else.

Her gaze slowly traveled over him.

She wasn’t stupid. The guy was seriously sexy. If he could give her an orgasm while playing the piano, just think how good it would be if they actually had sex.

Her body tingled at the thought of the two of them in bed together. Naked bodies pressing close. No, she didn’t think she would explain what “no fringe benefits” meant.

S
urlock glared at the man who measured him for clothes—Mr.

Barnes he was called. He didn’t like him. He kept licking his lips as if he wanted to do more than take measurements.

“I just need to get the width of your chest,” the tailor simpered. “My, you do have a broad chest, don’t you? I’d bet you’re a bit of a wild one.” His voice went husky when he said
wild.
“I love a man who can wear his hair long and still look ruggedly handsome. There’s no doubt that person is a real man.”

Surlock fisted his hands. Darcy had said he would need the clothes, and since he worked for her now, he knew he had to act accordingly and not pound this man into the ground. It didn’t feel right, though. Not the way the tailor let his hands linger a little too long in all the wrong places.

“Now, if you would please be so kind as to step up on the bench, I’ll get your inseam.” He licked his lips. “I have to tell you that you have a very nice inseam.”

Surlock narrowed his eyes, but the tailor was more interested in keeping his gaze below the waist as Surlock stepped up on the bench.

Darcy shouldn’t have left him alone with the tailor. He had beady eyes. When the tailor neared his crotch, Surlock growled from deep in his throat just as Darcy pushed the curtain open and walked inside the small fitting room. She stopped in her
tracks, then cast a warning look in his direction.
Now
she decided to return. Surlock wondered how much trouble he was in.

The tailor’s hands fluttered close to his face, and his eyes grew wide. “Oh, my.” The little man’s hands began to tremble.

“Is there a problem?” One of Darcy’s eyebrows shot upward as her hard gaze was redirected at the tailor. At least she’d changed the direction of her displeasure. Maybe he was in the clear.

“No, no problem. I’ll just take these last measurements and be done,” Mr. Barnes stuttered. He took out his pad and pencil and jotted down numbers. There was a snap, and the pencil broke, one end flying across the room. “Oh, I pressed too hard,” the tailor said. “I’ll… I’ll just get another pencil so we can finish up.” He pulled a white cloth out of his pocket and mopped his forehead before hurrying through the curtains.

“You have to stop glaring at poor Mr. Barnes,” Darcy whispered. “And for heaven’s sake, stop growling at people. You’re scaring them.”

“I don’t like the way he touches me,” Surlock snarled. “I think he enjoys it too much.”

“He probably did in the beginning, but I think he’s had a change of heart.”

Mr. Barnes hurried back in, took one look at Surlock and visibly swallowed, his face turning pale. “I just need a couple more measurements. I promise.”

Darcy willed Surlock to meet her look of warning. He sighed. “Then continue,” Surlock said, keeping his gaze on Darcy, rather than looking at the tailor.

A memory flashed of another time, another person taking his measurements, but it had been a female with dark green eyes and a saucy smile.

The memory was gone as quickly as it had flashed across his thoughts. Frustration filled him. Why did his memories stay blocked? He fisted his hands and growled.

“I’m finished,” Mr. Barnes squeaked as he quickly straightened, then stepped a good distance back. “I think we have a few
things he can take with him until we get his other clothes ready,” he told Darcy. When she nodded, he scurried from the room.

“You scared him again,” she accused.

“I apologize.” He hadn’t meant to frighten the little tailor again, even if the man deserved to be frightened. It was the flash of memory that had caught him unaware.

When would he remember everything? He felt as if there was a huge hole in his life, and he desperately wanted it filled. Who was he supposed to keep from danger? Why did his identity have to remain a secret?

“It must be difficult not remembering who you are,” Darcy said softly.

There was something in her voice that soothed the beast inside him. He felt his tension ease. “Difficult? I feel as though I’ve been turned loose in a place where I don’t know the people or their customs. I’m like a child learning to walk, but stumbling with every step.” He glanced her way, and saw the sympathy in her eyes. He wasn’t sure he wanted her compassion.

“I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands, twining her fingers.

He hadn’t meant to make her feel guilty again. She was so beautiful, so perfect. And now she felt bad she’d caused him to lose his memory.

From somewhere deep inside, a door unlocked. He remembered someone telling him women enjoyed compliments. “You look nice,” he said. He told the truth. She did look nice. Before they had left for town, she had changed into a loose skirt and a sleeveless top. There were sandals on her feet and her toenails were painted dark red to match her fingernails.

He remembered how she was dressed this morning when she stood on the balcony with only a thin bit of material clinging to her naked body. He had clearly seen the outline of her breasts, the exposed curves. He’d felt an almost overwhelming urge to climb up to her balcony and take her into his arms. She’d looked at him then, just as she did now, her need palpable. Desire rose inside him.

“I want to mate with you,” he said, his words husky with need.

Her mouth dropped open. “You want to … what?”

He stepped off the stool and sauntered to where she stood. Before she could offer a protest, he took her into his arms and pulled her against him.

He stared into her eyes. “I want to mate with you. I want to feel your naked body pressed against mine. I want to plunge inside the heat of your body, stroking you,” he whispered close to her ear. Then he was kissing her, tasting her, tongues sparring, his dominating, catching her moan, feeling her press tight against him.

Someone cleared his throat. Surlock was hearing that a lot and wondered if there was something in the air. Darcy pushed out of his arms.

“I’ll leave you to change,” she said as she hurried from the room.

Surlock watched her leave, then turned to the tailor.

“Here are the things you can wear now,” Mr. Barnes said hurriedly, then shoved the clothes toward him.

Too many interruptions. He wanted Darcy. She stirred something inside him and he found it harder and harder to restrain himself.

But rather than cause the little man in front of him to keel over dead from fear, Surlock took the clothes. Mr. Barnes fled the room as if demons from the night were after him.

The clothing was much the same as what Ms. Abernathy had brought, and looked as restraining as what he now wore. He examined each piece to see where he thought it might be worn, then dressed. He didn’t like the shoes. He preferred bare feet.

He closed his eyes and could see green fields; he was running through the grass, his feet pounding the ground, breathing labored. Not him, but yet it was. He grabbed the back of the chair as the vision abruptly ended. The humming inside his head grew louder.

Who the hell was he? Where did he come from?

“Are you okay in there?” Darcy’s voice floated to him.

The humming quieted. Her voice had a calming effect on him. A musical sound, much like a finely tuned instrument. It relaxed him.

He walked to the curtains and parted them, standing before her. “Will this do?”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, then he caught the slight flare of her nostrils, her quickened breathing. She cleared her throat. “Yes, you look fine. The clothes fit… um … nicely.”

“I’ll send the other ready-made clothes out to the estate,” Mr. Barnes said. “There will be one last fitting.” He cleared his throat. “It shouldn’t take long, though.”

“Just call when they’re ready,” she said. She briskly made her way to the door, head held high, shoulders squared.

She wanted him. It wasn’t hard to see, but yet, she would deny them both. He wondered why. Maybe he would ask her about it when they returned to the estate.

They arrived at the doctor’s office a short time later. Darcy breezed up to the glass-fronted wall. There was a nameplate that read
RECEPTIONIST.

Darcy strode to the window. The receptionist glanced up. “Dr. Wilson is expecting us. Darcy Spencer.”

Surlock gauged the woman’s reaction. She quickly rose to her feet. “Yes, Miss Spencer. He’s expecting you both.” She hurried to the door that led to the back and opened it. “Come this way.” She took them to a small office. “Just have a seat and he’ll be with you shortly.”

“You’re staring at me,” she said after they were both seated.

“Am I?”

She frowned and he realized how tempting she looked. He wanted to lean across and kiss away her displeasure.

“Yes, you’re staring.” Her frown only deepened.

Odd woman, very complex. He discovered something different each time he was around her. “You’re very highly regarded
by people. They give you deferential treatment wherever you go. The tailor did, as did the doctor yesterday, and now this young woman. Are you special in some way?”

Her cheeks turned rosy red. “My parents do a lot for the community,” she finally told him. Then she sighed. “That, and they have money.”

“Money is important.”

“Money will buy you anything you want.”

“It won’t buy my memory. Nor the true worth of a man, I think. It can’t buy a sunset, or a sunrise. It can’t buy laughter, nor dry tears.” He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe this money only means something to a small group of people.” She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“It will be interesting to discover where you’re from and exactly what you do for a living,” she said.

Their conversation ended when the doctor entered the room. “Well, you look better than you did yesterday,” he said as he went behind his desk and sat in the chair. “Your color is back. Twila said you had a good night, too. Vitals stable. Have you remembered anything?”

“Only flashes,” he said. “Nothing of importance.”

“And he can play the piano like a professional,” Darcy spoke up.

“Good.” The doctor beamed. “That’s a start. I’m sure it won’t be long before you remember everything.”

“How long?” Surlock asked.

The doctor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Let’s not push it. It will come naturally.” He shuffled some papers on his desk. “There is one thing. The X-rays came back with some abnormalities.”

Darcy drew in a sharp breath, the color draining from her face. “What?”

Surlock gripped the arms of the chair.

“Oh, no, nothing like what you’re imagining,” the doctor quickly reassured them. “It was just an odd bone structure. Almost as if there were animal bones mixed with human.” He
laughed. “Of course, that can’t be right. I think someone must have x-rayed a family pet and not changed the film. I called the tech and told him to recalibrate his machine and check his plates. Of course, we’ll shoot some more.”

“No, I don’t want more pictures of my bones,” Surlock told Dr. Wilson. Something warned him away from more tests. Why couldn’t he remember? His stomach churned as he tried to draw forth a memory … anything. Nothing came.

“Relax.” The doctor’s softly spoken words reached out to him.

The doctor was right. It would happen when it happened. Trying to force his memory only made his head hurt.

“I want to draw some blood, and do a quick evaluation. It will only take a moment. Then you’ll be free to go.”

Surlock looked at Darcy. She nodded, then came to her feet. “I’ll meet you in the waiting area.”

He didn’t want her to leave, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it, except watch as she left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. He didn’t like the idea of the doctor taking his blood, but he wanted to be done here. The walls were closing in on him. Letting the man draw his blood seemed the quickest way to escape.

“Have you been experiencing anything out of the ordinary?” the doctor asked as he stood.

“I don’t know what the ordinary is.”

Dr. Wilson chuckled. “Good point. Okay, have you had any dizziness?” He checked the bump on top of Surlock’s head. “Much better.”

“If I stand too quickly or if I have a flash of memory, everything turns upside down.”

Dr. Wilson nodded. “Perfectly normal.” He took an instrument off his desk and bumped it against his palm. A light immediately came on. He shined it in Surlock’s eyes. “What a strange shade,” he murmured. He changed tips and looked into first one ear, then the other. “Any ringing?”

“Humming.”

The doctor straightened. “What kind of humming?”

“Like a voice, but I can’t understand the words.”