The Wolf Prince (2 page)

She glanced at the rising sun and looked up the path. She couldn’t see the house, but it was just over the hill. Ralph would come from that direction. She glanced nervously at the stranger and silently prayed he wouldn’t wake up before help arrived. What if he attacked her?

Darcy snorted. Had she really been thinking only a few moments ago how great it would be to have danger and excitement in her life? And how had she handled it? By knocking some guy over the head whose only crime was to run around the woods naked.

In her defense, he had startled her. First the wolf, then the naked stranger. She’d acted on instinct when she’d hit him. She had really good instincts. Most of the time.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the golf cart came chugging over the hill, the trailer bouncing behind it.

She tossed the branch and wildly waved her arms. It wasn’t that hard to spot her since she was out in the open, but waving her arms gave her something to do. Ralph pulled up beside her and turned off the key.

“I’m afraid I hit him pretty hard,” she said. “But he stepped from behind a tree and scared the hell out of me. He’s still unconscious.”

Ralph walked over to him. He nudged the stranger with the toe of his work boot. “Yep, you got him a good one.” He raised her jacket, then let it quickly drop. “He hasn’t got a stitch of
clothes on. What kind of man runs around the woods naked? You did good knocking him over the head.”

“Well, he did scare off the wolf.” She had no idea why she would take up for the stranger. Remorse? That had to be it.

Ralph had brought one of his grounds workers with him and they started to pick up the stranger, but Ralph hesitated at the last moment. “Might want to turn your head, Miss Darcy.”

Heat flooded her face when she caught the meaning of his words. Ralph had worked for the family before she was even adopted and he really was like a second father. She quickly turned around. There was a grunt, probably from Ralph, and then a thud as the stranger was placed on the trailer.

“Okay, he’s as decent as he’ll ever be. What do you want us to do with him?”

“Take him to the guest house,” she said.

Ralph’s brows drew together. “Are you sure about that?”

She nodded. “He saved my life.” The wolf
was
gone.

“Then I guess you owe him something. At least until we know who he is.” She jumped in beside Ralph, while his helper got in the trailer with the stranger.

Ralph started the golf cart up again and they made their way to the guest house. The estate sat on ten acres deep in the Texas hill country. The house had six bedrooms, besides the guest house. They had room for one naked stranger.

The trailer bounced over a bump. The stranger groaned. She bit her bottom lip and looked over her shoulder. What if she had given him brain damage or something? She would never forgive herself, even if it turned out he was a bad guy. Well, if he was really bad, maybe she wouldn’t feel quite as guilty.

He hadn’t looked like a bad guy. Oh, Lord, what if he was a neighbor who liked running around naked? The Bishops were on vacation, but they had their place up for sale. They would be gone all summer, unless it sold. What if this guy had purchased the property? It might not go so well for her at trial if she’d brain-damaged her new neighbor.

Ralph pulled in front of the guest house as Ms. Abernathy came hurrying out of the main house to meet them.

“Is he dead?” she asked, walking briskly toward them. Loose tendrils of gray hair had escaped the usually tight bun that sat on top of her head like a hummingbird’s nest. “We could bury the corpse and not tell anyone a thing.” She eyed Ralph’s young helper as if he would be the one who’d snitch. The poor guy lowered his head and shuffled his feet.

Ms. Abernathy was very loyal. She was also thin, almost to the point of anorexia, which was ridiculous since she could out eat any man, and she was the best cook for miles around. She told everyone she was blessed with a fast metabolism.

“He’s not dead.” Ralph climbed out of the golf cart.

“You’re not planning to put him in the guest house, are you?” Ms. Abernathy’s eyebrows shot up. “Mrs. Spencer will fire us all.”

“He saved my life,” Darcy told her.

“Then why’d you whack him?” she asked.

“He scared me. Is the doctor on his way?” Darcy asked. Irritation laced her words. She just wanted everyone to stop asking so many questions.

“He’ll be here soon enough.” Ms. Abernathy reluctantly opened the French doors to the guest house, and stepped back. The men lifted the stranger out of the trailer. “Lord-a-mercy, he hasn’t got a stitch of clothes on. What’s a young man like him doing running around the countryside in his birthday suit? Your momma is going to skin all of us alive for letting a naked stranger stay in her pretty guest house.”

“Then we won’t tell her he was naked.” Darcy wore the expression her mother always said was her daughter’s stubborn look.

“But—”

Darcy held up her hand. “Not a word.”

“Okay, but you know she’s going to find out. That woman always knows everything that goes on around here.”

“But
we
won’t tell her. Right?”

Ms. Abernathy pursed her lips. “She won’t be hearing it from me.”

“Good.” Darcy hurried to the bedroom and pulled back the bedcovers. Ralph and his helper placed the stranger on the bed.

Ms. Abernathy quickly pulled the covers up. When the stranger groaned, she jumped back. “Ralph, go get the gun.”

“He’s injured. I doubt he could overpower all of us,” Darcy told her.

“They say the crazier they are, the more strength they have,” Ms. Abernathy said.

“Well, there’s four of us, and only one of him,” Darcy reminded her.

“Hello!” Dr. Wilson called from the other room.

“In here, Doc,” Ralph said.

Dr. Wilson came striding inside the room carrying a small black bag. The doctor was past retirement, but still saw a few patients, and he’d always been the Spencers’ doctor.

The doctor glanced around, his gaze landing on the man in the bed. “Who is he?”

“We don’t know,” Darcy said. “He was in the woods. He startled me when he stepped from behind a tree so I sort of hit him over the head with a stick.” Heat rose up her face. “A really big stick.”

Dr. Wilson walked closer. After putting on exam gloves, he ran his hands over the stranger’s head. “You bopped him a good one. He’s got a big goose egg.”

“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.

S
urlock 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?