The Wolf Prince

CHAPTER 4

Surlock 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.”

“We’ll check your blood count. That might tell us something. Do you swim a lot?”

“I swam this morning.”

“You may have swimmer’s ear.” He went to the other side of the desk again and picked up the phone. “Yes, Marcia, see if I have some samples of eardrops for ringing in the ears. When you come to my office, bring the things to draw some blood. I’ll need a complete workup.”

He walked back to Surlock. “She’ll be here in a moment. After she draws your blood, you’re free to go, but I’ll want to see you next week. You are planning on sticking around?”

“I have nowhere to go.” He realized how true his words were. He felt completely hollow on the inside.

“Don’t worry, son. Your memory will all come back. Give it time. When you get to my age you learn to enjoy life and not worry so much about tomorrow.”

The nurse came in a few moments later. Before the doctor left, he told Marcia to make an appointment for the following week. The woman took one look at Surlock and visibly swallowed.

Surlock wasn’t too sure what she was about to do. She put a band around his arm, then came toward him with a needle. But when she inserted it, she did so expertly, causing only a small prick of pain.

“Sorry if I hurt you,” she said. Her gaze flitted to his face, then quickly dropped. “Are you a relative of Miss Spencer?” She loosened the band and put a white ball on his wound, taping it down.

“No.” He remembered the job he was supposed to do. “We’re dating.” She looked crushed by the information. He wondered why. He had met some very strange people this day. “Are we done?” he asked.

“Yes,” she sighed.

Darcy was in the waiting area. She looked up when he walked into the room. A smile spread across her face.

“Are you finished?” she asked.

“We’re supposed to return next week.”

“Here’s your appointment card.” The receptionist handed it to them from her place behind a desk. “Take care.” She grinned at Surlock.

He noticed Darcy didn’t seem pleased by the attention he was getting from the female staff. That might work in his favor.

On the drive back to the estate, she was unusually quiet. “I told the nurse we were dating,” he announced.

Her head whipped toward him. “Why would you do that?”

Again, she confused him. “I thought that was what you wanted.”

Comprehension showed on her face. “Oh, yes, I forgot. That was fine.”

“If I’m going to pretend to be your boyfriend, then I should know more about you.” Yes, he had an ulterior motive. But he did want to know more about her. She was interesting, and he was lonely. He felt empty not having memories. She helped to fill the void inside him.

“You’re right, you do need more information. My mother will definitely grill you.” She was thoughtful for a moment. “I’m twenty-five.”

“What do you do all day?”

“You mean my job?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have one.”

“But to earn money to buy all the things one would want, a person needs a job. Is this not correct?”

“My parents have a lot of money, so I don’t have to work.” She shifted in her seat.

“So, you do nothing all day.”

“No! I do lots of things. I go to charity functions and … and …” Her shoulders dropped.

Again, he felt sorry he’d caused her to feel bad. “There is something you want to do, though,” he guessed.

She glanced across the seat. Her gaze returned to the road. “I want work as a P.I.,” she said as if telling him a big secret. “I have all the training. I took some college courses, but then I took classes outside of college so I could get licensed.”

“What’s a P.I.?”

“A private investigator. I want to find things or people who are lost. I’m good at hunting.”

He closed his eyes against the blinding pain that shot through his head. He could see himself hunting, going after game in the night. Hunting, watching, attacking. But it felt more as if he were in another body. The humming grew more intense. He grabbed his head, groaning.

“Surlock, what’s wrong?” The car slowed, crunched across gravel, then stopped.

The pain was easing, but he kept his eyes closed, his hands holding his head. “I saw something. Hunting. But not me. I was someone else. Then the humming in my head. It’s confusing.”

She pulled his head against her chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he managed to tell her.

“Shh, don’t talk. Just keep your eyes closed and try to relax.”

He took a deep breath, and caught the exotic aroma of the scent she wore. The pain stopped, but was replaced with a different kind of hurt. She absently kissed the top of his head, smoothed her fingers across his forehead. He tilted his head until he could see her face. She hesitated, then lowered her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

At least, he was pretty sure she meant it to be gentle, but as soon as her tongue stroked his, she awakened something inside him. Something he couldn’t control. Or maybe he just didn’t want to control it. He cupped the back of her head, bringing her closer. The humming quieted.

He slid his hand under her top, under her bra, and grazed his thumb over her nipple. She moaned, surrendering to his touch, pressing closer.

The blast from a car horn broke them apart. Someone called out for them to “get a room,” which was ridiculous. He was quite happy where he was.

“I’m sorry,” she stuttered as she straightened her clothes.

“Why?” Surlock groaned in frustration.

Her face was infused with a rosy tint. “Because I didn’t mean for my comforting to go quite that far.”

“I liked it.” He reached toward her, but she quickly pulled away so he let his hand drop to the seat.

“That’s the problem. So did I, and I know nothing about you.” She started the car, then backed out into the road. She continued toward her family’s estate.

“Sometimes you can know everything there is to know about a person and not know them at all,” he told her.

She pulled up to the iron gates and pushed a button inside the car. The gates swung open and she drove to the house.

“I still don’t know anything about you. How can I pretend to be your boyfriend?”

“I’ll make a list.”

“I don’t want a list. That won’t work. We’ll need to spend time together if we are to convince anyone. And we’ll have to convince the staff first.”

She cast a wary look in his direction before returning her gaze to the road. “You’re right.”

“And I want to know more about this P.I. business. My mind is lost. Maybe you can help me find it.”

And maybe she could explain the incredible pull he felt toward her. It was almost as though there was some kind of connection between them. He had a feeling Darcy might be part of the reason why he was here.