by Karen Kelley
“Will he be okay?” Darcy nervously twined her fingers together.
“Don’t know until we get X-rays.”
The stranger groaned again, his eyes fluttering open. His head slowly turned, and he looked right at Darcy. His expression told her that he’d like to hit her over the head with a really big stick. This wasn’t good.
The doctor reached toward the stranger. The man turned to him, curling back his lips, baring his teeth. Dr. Wilson only paused for a moment. “I’m Dr. Wilson. You want me to see to your wound or not?”
Slowly, the man’s facial expression relaxed, replaced by a look of confusion.
“That’s better.” Dr. Wilson removed his gloves, then took the stranger’s pulse and blood pressure. “Everything checks out.” He folded his stethoscope and put it back in his satchel.
“Then he’ll be okay?” Darcy asked.
“X-rays, then we’ll see. One of the guys is bringing the portable out.” He glanced at his watch. “Should be here in a bit.”
She nodded. This was just awful. She looked at the man again. He seemed almost animal-like the way he looked at everyone.
“What’s your name?” Dr. Wilson asked.
His forehead wrinkled, and then he said, “Surlock.”
“Last name or first?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Do you know what day it is? Where you come from?”
Surlock shook his head.
The doctor shined a light in Surlock’s eyes. “Probably a mild concussion with temporary loss of memory. I’ve seen it a lot in cases like this. If he’s not better in a few days, I’ll order more tests.”
Why hadn’t she just taken off running? She was pretty fast. She could have thrown the heavy branch at him, and gotten a decent head start. She had a great pair of lungs and could have screamed loud enough that someone would’ve heard her.
Suddenly, Surlock’s gaze swung her way. “You hit me over the head.”
She cringed away from the condemnation in his eyes.
“See, he’s starting to remember already.” Dr. Wilson beamed.
Yeah, well, maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. Was he the kind of man who would seek revenge?
“Where am I?” he asked.
“In the guest house. I didn’t know where else to take you.” Oh, hell, he had amnesia because of her. Could someone die from that? She took a deep breath. “You can stay here until your memory returns.”
Ms. Abernathy cleared her throat and cast a disapproving glance in Darcy’s direction.
Darcy squared her shoulders and met Ms. Abernathy’s gaze head-on. The housekeeper pursed her lips, but didn’t dispute Darcy’s orders.
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. A good thing, too. She’d been the one to clobber him over the head. He was her mess, and she would clean it up. But when her glance fell on Surlock, she thought it might not be too difficult. He was the sexiest mess she’d ever made.
CHAPTER 2
Surlock eyed the people in the room. They made him uneasy, looking at him as if they expected him to pounce any second. Especially the young woman. The one called Darcy. Her gaze would fall on him, then skitter away. He frowned. Probably because she’d attacked him. That, he remembered. What he didn’t remember was why he was in the woods.
He ran a shaky hand through his hair and felt the lump. He grimaced. It was tender. His gaze fell on her again, and once more a guilty flush stained her cheeks. She wasn’t very big, but she’d wielded the branch like a warrior. She was also very beautiful. Pleasant to look upon.
He took a deep breath, then exhaled. Not that it mattered what she looked like. He needed to focus. There was something he was supposed to do. But what? His memory had been wiped clean. When he struggled to remember, the humming noise inside his head only got worse and his temples began to pound from the effort. Finally, he closed his eyes to block out everything—the people, the sounds—everything around him.
“Darcy, you stay, but the rest give us some room,” Dr. Wilson ordered.
Good idea, Surlock thought to himself. When he didn’t hear movement, he opened his eyes. No one had left. The skinny older woman hesitated until Dr. Wilson raised his eyebrows. Then she turned and marched toward the door. Surlock could tell she didn’t want to go. The two men followed.
The doctor sat in one of the chairs, taking a small notebook from his jacket. He began to scribble something on it.
Darcy still refused to meet his gaze.
Who were these people?
Who was he?
Surlock only had sketchy recollections. He knew he had to keep his identity a secret, and he was looking for someone who might be in danger. Someone he needed to protect. But who? And why?
He remembered a wolf, too. They were friends. At least, he thought they might be. He knew he was called Surlock, but when he tried to remember more, his head felt as though it would explode. It wasn’t worth the effort to concentrate.
He watched the young woman as she moved to a dresser and straightened one of the figurines. Not that it needed straightening. Yes, she was definitely beautiful.
Her blond hair was pulled away from her face, showing delicate features, and skin that looked as soft as a baby’s. Deep blue eyes were fringed with dark lashes. Ah, but it was her mouth that drew his attention. It tempted him to pull her down to lie beside him and kiss away her anxiety.
What was she doing going around hitting innocent people over the head anyway? Did she often get violent?
There was a knock on the door. The doctor told the person to enter. When the door opened, a man came inside pushing a cumbersome machine on wheels. Surlock warily eyed this new person. What did he plan to do?
“No need to be concerned,” Dr. Wilson said. “He’s only here to x-ray your head. I don’t want you moving any more than necessary until we make sure your skull isn’t cracked.”
“Do you think it might be? I’m pretty sure I didn’t hit him that hard,” Darcy said as she twined her fingers together again.
The doctor came to his feet, slipping the notebook back inside his pocket. “No, but better safe than sorry.” He walked over and told the man with the machine what he wanted. Then the doctor and Darcy stepped from the room.
Surlock eyed the machine. It was big and unfamiliar. When the man carried over a large metal plate, Surlock growled. The man stopped, taking a step back, and hugging the plate to his chest.
“I’m … uh … Harold and I just need to get this X-ray to make sure you don’t have a fractured skull or anything. I swear it won’t hurt.”
The man was of small stature. Surlock slowly relaxed, then nodded. It would not be hard to fight this one if he posed a problem. Surlock would take their tests. If the man had lied, and there was more to this X-ray, he would attack.
Harold hurried to finish, going back to his machine and pushing buttons that made clicking noises. He replaced the metal plate with another one, and repeated everything. Then he took his machine and rushed from the room. The doctor and Darcy returned.
“Your vitals are good. Even so, I’ll have one of my nurses come out to keep an eye on you for the next twenty-four hours.” Dr. Wilson turned to Darcy. “Either that, or I can admit him to the hospital for observation.”
“Hospital?” Surlock didn’t like the sound of being admitted into a hospital. He didn’t even know what a hospital was.
“Will he be just as well off here in the guest house with a nurse?” Darcy asked.
“Better probably. Twila is an excellent nurse and will keep a close eye on him.”
“Then send her out.”
“I can’t remember anything.” Surlock’s frustration spilled out of him. The man seemed to be a healer of sorts. He remembered healers helped make people better when they were sick. Maybe Dr. Wilson could give him back his memory. He didn’t like feeling vulnerable. It put him at a disadvantage. And what of this person he believed he’d been sent to protect? How could he protect anyone if he didn’t know
who he was?
“Nothing to worry about, I’m sure,” the doctor told him. “Sometimes when you take a blow to the head it can cause temporary amnesia. You’ll probably start remembering as the day goes on.” He turned to Darcy. “Someone will need to stay with him until the nurse gets here.”
“I can do that.” Darcy walked the doctor out, then returned.
Surlock watched as she fidgeted with her clothes, then smoothed a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. He noticed her hands trembled. She looked at him, then quickly glanced away.
“I’m sorry I hit you over the head.” She sat in the chair closest to the bed. “It isn’t every day a wolf steps into the open like that. Then there was this fog. Once it cleared, you stepped from behind a tree”—her cheeks turned red—“and, well, you were naked. You frightened me.”
“Naked?”
She nodded.
He remembered the wolf, but it was an odd feeling. Then she had stepped forward. He was going to tell her something.
A sharp stabbing pain suddenly struck his head. He reached a hand up, closing his eyes. The light in the room made the pain worse, and the humming grew louder.
“What?” she frantically asked. “Do I need to call the doctor back?”
He shook his head, the pain easing. “No, it was something you said. I had a flash of memory.”
“What kind of memory?”
“I don’t know. It happened so fast I didn’t have a chance to grasp it.”
“But it’s a good sign that you remembered something, even if you can’t remember it now.”
Nothing would be good until he remembered everything. How could it be? His whole life had been swept away. He was nothing, a nobody, without his memory.
He carefully eased open his eyes and looked at her. She wore an expression of hope. For a moment, he thought about telling her exactly how he felt, but one look into her anxious eyes, and the words wouldn’t come.
“Yes, I would say that’s a good sign.” He had no idea if it was or wasn’t, but he was glad he’d lied when he saw the relief on her face. He didn’t want her to be concerned about him, even though she deserved to worry.
She smiled. His breath caught in his throat. It was as though she’d given him the gift of sunshine on a cloudy day. He had a feeling it would be difficult to concentrate when she was around, but he had to force himself to do just that.
“Why was I in the woods without clothes?” he suddenly asked.
Her cheeks turned red. “I don’t know.” Her gaze dropped to her hands.
Apparently, she had a problem with nudity. Apparently, he didn’t have the same problem since he was running around the woods without clothes.
He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Tiredness washed over him as if he’d been traveling for a long time from far, far away.
“You can’t go to sleep!” she screamed.
He grimaced as the screeching noise shot through him. His eyes jerked open. “Why can’t I?”
“The doctor doesn’t want you going to sleep.”
“Ever?”
She frowned. “Probably just for the next few hours.”
It all seemed overly dramatic. He was tired, though, and the bed felt good. It wouldn’t be that hard to fall asleep. He had a feeling it would throw her into a frenzy if he did, and then she would call the doctor back. “If I can’t go to sleep, then you’ll have to talk to me.”
She hesitated. “You really don’t remember a thing?”
He shook his head, then winced when pain shot through it. “No, nothing.”
“Not even the wolf?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I remember a wolf.”
“I was afraid it would attack me. That’s why I picked up the heavy branch, except you stepped from behind the tree after the fog lifted, and the wolf was gone.” She shrugged apologetically. “You got hit instead. It was a knee-jerk reaction. I’m sorry.”
“The wolf wouldn’t have attacked.”
“How do you know?”
He thought about it for a moment. Everything was a blank. “I don’t. Something tells me I was close to the wolf.”
“Close? You mean like a pet?”
“Maybe. Yes, I think so.” The humming grew angry inside his head. She asked a lot of questions. He didn’t have the answers. He closed his eyes. “I’m not going to sleep. Only resting my eyes.”
“Of course. I’ll just sit here and talk.” Her voice was soft and comforting. She spoke about the countryside, and some friend called Jennifer who hated the country.
She’d looked small and defenseless sitting there. His brothers would laugh their fool heads off if they knew he’d been brought down by a slip of a female.
Brothers?
Yes, he had brothers. And he was pretty sure sisters. Also lots of animals. He remembered walking with animals. The wolf might very well be a pet. Maybe his memory would return, and then he would know why everything seemed so strange, as if he didn’t belong in this place.
“The nurse is here.” Darcy rose from her chair.
The two women spoke for a few minutes, then Darcy hurried away. The nurse said her name was Twila. She was short and plump with very dark skin. After checking his pulse and blood pressure, she wrote the numbers on a pad of paper.
“I’ll be in the other room if you should need me, but I’ll be checking on you from time to time. I’m a registered nurse. Have been for twenty years, so I’ll know if something is not right.”
“I’m tired,” he said.
“I think it will be okay to sleep for a bit. You’ve had a rough day.” Her gentle smile was comforting. He remembered someone else whose smile also made him feel like this, but he couldn’t focus on a face. He finally stopped trying. Twila left the room.
Finally, silence.
He eased his feet over the side of the bed. The room tilted, then settled. By the gods, his head was killing him.
There was another door in the room. He stood, holding on to the nightstand until he felt a little steadier. When he thought he could trust himself not to fall, he made his way to the door and opened it. He knew this room, and quickly made use of the facility, then washed his hands.
The face that stared back at him in the mirror was unfamiliar. His hair was dark, shoulder length. His eyes were brown with gold flecks. His chin strong, skin tanned. It was as if he looked at a stranger, and the feeling made him uncomfortable. He didn’t like not knowing who he was.
He left the room and went back to the bed, pulling the covers to his waist. At least, his headache had eased, but he was incredibly tired. His eyes were so heavy he didn’t think he could keep them open even if he tried. It was a good thing Darcy had left or he would be forced to remain awake.
As quickly as that thought crossed his mind, he knew the words weren’t true. He wasn’t glad she had left. There was something about her. Something that made him want to know her better. Odd. Especially since she had been the one who had caused him to lose his memory.
He felt as though he’d always known her. Yet, he was certain they had never met until today. He was sure she didn’t recognize him, either.
His body grew weary. It was too much to unravel right now. He yawned, then turned on his side as sleep claimed him. His last thought was that maybe when he woke, he might remember who he was.
CHAPTER 3
Something was different. Darcy didn’t know exactly what, but as she snuggled her pillow closer, and the last bit of sleep drifted away, she knew something in her life had changed.
Then it hit her.
It wasn’t a good different. She had almost killed a man yesterday morning. Oh, hell, what if he’d died during the night while she’d been dreaming…. Her mind was a blank. What had she been dreaming about?
Her face suddenly flooded with heat when she remembered. She’d been dreaming of a sexy, very naked, male god, worshipping at his feet like a horny woman who hadn’t been laid in over a year. That wasn’t true. She’d actually ha
d sex eleven and a half months ago.
Except the man she’d drooled about in her dreams might very well be a corpse right now. Her heart began to pound.
Had Ms. Abernathy buried the body? Did the housekeeper know that would make her an accessory? Darcy grimaced when she thought about sharing a cell with her. Not that she disliked the housekeeper. She’d been almost as much of a mother to Darcy as her adoptive mother. Hmm, and bossy, now that she thought about it. But still, she didn’t want Ms. Abernathy to go to prison because she was being overprotective.
Darcy flung the cover aside and jumped out of bed, glancing at the clock. It was barely six. She rushed toward the closet, but stopped at the French doors that led to her balcony. Her room was directly across from the guest house. If something had happened to Surlock during the night, she would be able to tell from her room—maybe.
She opened the double doors and rushed out onto the balcony, then stumbled to a stop. The swimming pool was between her room and the guest house. Surlock stood on the diving board, his arms raised. The sun peeked over the horizon, casting everything in a hazy early morning light. There was enough light that she could see him, though.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. The man was truly magnificent, and very naked. Right now, she didn’t really mind that he disliked clothes. Boy, did she not mind!
His muscles weren’t so big that he looked deformed. No, they were just right. His chest was broad with just a sprinkling of dark hair. Her gaze dropped lower. Nice. Very nice.
A burning need grew inside her. For just a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to lie naked in his arms, to have his body pressed against hers. The ache inside her grew until she trembled with need. Her last few dates had been losers. She had a feeling Surlock would be good in bed. He would know how to please a woman.
Her hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms as she stifled the groan that threatened to explode from her. She needed good sex. Maybe Surlock was a gift from the sex gods and she was meant to have him. It could happen. Before she could get too far into her fantasy, he dove into the water, causing barely a ripple.