Karen Kelley - The Wolf Prince

But her favorite part of the media room was the lights. When they were dimmed, the ceiling automatically began to twinkle with thousands of fiber optic lights. The atmosphere created a feeling of being outside under the stars.

She motioned Surlock toward one of the chairs and went to the library cabinets. Her organized father had every movie alphabetized and arranged by genre. She quickly found the Bond movie she wanted and grabbed the remote. Her father had hundreds of movies. Collecting them had gone way beyond the hobby stage and become an obsession.

Darcy inserted the DVD, then took the chair next to Surlock’s. With just the push of a few buttons, the lights dimmed, and the movie started.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Surlock really got into the movie. Halfway through, she realized one thing: All guys were alike. It wasn’t hard to tell that he enjoyed action flicks.

But she’d forgotten about the sexual tension, the love scenes. She shifted in her seat as James Bond became Surlock and she became the female lead. It was Surlock touching her, flirting with his eyes, seducing her.

Darcy was glad when the movie finally ended. She jumped to her feet and turned the lights on, rather than using the remote. She needed to put some distance between them.

“What did you think?” she managed to ask with only a small catch in her voice.

He shifted in his seat until he met her gaze. “Yes, I think I might be a secret agent.”

“You’ve remembered something?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. But being a secret agent feels right.”

Which didn’t really tell her a lot since most guys would like to play the part of James Bond in real life. She was no closer than she had been before they watched the movie. The only thing it had created was more sexual frustration, and confusion about who Surlock might be.

So, how to find out for sure? She thought about it for a moment before coming up with an idea. “We can fingerprint you.”

“What will that do?”

“If you work for the government, your prints might be on file. You could work in intelligence of some kind and not necessarily be a secret agent. There are a lot of possibilities.”

A slow sexy grin curved his lips upward. Her toes curled in response. Damn, the man was devilishly handsome.

“I don’t know, I kind of like the idea of women falling all over themselves to mate with me.”

Her mouth went dry and swallowing was suddenly not an option. The way he looked at her, she had a feeling he wanted to mate with her right here, right now.

What he’d just said finally sank in. “That’s not the first time you’ve referred to sex as mating. I’ve never heard anyone call it mating. That might be a clue to where you’re from.”

“Mating is not correct?”

“It is, but most people refer to it as sex or making love. Mating is usually associated with animals. That’s why I think you’re probably not from around here.”

He still looked at her as if he was more interested in making love than finding out who he was. She understood the feeling perfectly. There was a strange current that seemed to pass between them. It was hard to explain. It was almost as if she’d known him all her life, but that wasn’t possible.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said, reaching over and brushing some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

His fingertips grazed her cheek. A shiver of anticipation rippled through her. She knew he was going to kiss her. One kiss wouldn’t hurt.

Darcy leaned forward, welcoming his touch, needing his touch. Instead of pulling her closer, his hand slipped to her arm. He ran his fingers lightly up and down in an absentminded caress. It was all she could do to stop herself from jumping his bones.

“You feel it, too,” he said.

“Feel what?”

“The attraction.”

Her cheeks grew warm. “You’re a nice-looking man—of course I feel attracted to you.” That was an understatement if she’d ever heard one.

“No, more than that. I’ve never felt anything such as this. I want you so much, my need has become a deep ache inside me. Do you feel this?”

As if an electrical current passed between them. Yes, but she’d been afraid to say anything to him. She finally nodded, unable to speak.

“I think if I can’t touch you, I will explode.” He moved his hand to the shoulder ties on her shirt. He didn’t hurry as he untied first one, then the other.

Darcy knew that he was giving her time to protest, to stop him, but she couldn’t. Instead, she reached for the remote and dimmed the lights. She refused to remind herself she’d only been going to let him kiss her, nothing more. She’d think about the consequences later.

She started the movie playing again to drown out the noise she knew they would make. When she faced him again, she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor.

Her hands trembled when she unbuttoned the first button on his shirt. He didn’t try to stop her, either. Not that she had really thought he might. It was a good thing, too, because she wanted to touch him.

When his shirt was open, she pushed the sides off his shoulders, relishing sliding her hands over his sinewy muscles. Her body quivered with anticipation as he stood, letting the shirt fall to the floor with a shrug of his shoulders.

She stood as well, kicking off her sandals. He toed off his shoes, then removed his socks before reaching for her again.

Her mouth went dry when he unfastened her shorts, tugging the zipper down. His palms caressed her at the same time as he pushed her shorts over her hips. She stood in front of him wearing only a lacy pink bra and a matching thong.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“I’m a man, a hunter, not beautiful.”

She stilled. “A hunter?”

He frowned, then grabbed his head. He groaned, then closed his eyes tight, his expression pained.

“What?” Worry shot through her. She touched his arm, guiding him back down in the chair. “Surlock, what’s happening?”

“Noise,” he gasped. “In my head.” He fumbled in his pocket, but he wasn’t having much luck retrieving whatever he was trying to get.

“What? How can I help?”

“The doctor gave me eardrops.”

She brushed his hand out of the way and reached inside his pocket, bringing out the small bottle. “Got it. Move your hands and I’ll put some drops in.” He moved one hand. She put in several drops and hoped it wasn’t too many, then repeated in the other ear.

As soon as she finished, he put his hands over his ears and dropped his head between his legs. She could see he struggled to keep from crying out. Once again, guilt flooded her.

“Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”

“No, it’s easing. It only happens when I remember something. It’s not so much painful as it is loud. Like someone screaming in my ear.”

A few moments passed until he straightened. She breathed a sigh of relief. He slowly lowered his hands as if he was afraid the noise would return.

“Better?” she asked, nibbling her bottom lip.

“Better.”

She stood, reaching for her clothes. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. It’s probably too soon after your injury.” Could she feel any more guilty? Or embarrassed?

When she straightened, he was beside her, taking her into his arms, lowering his mouth to hers. She let the clothes fall to the floor, forgotten as she lost herself in the man. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer still. He undid the clasp of her bra, then his hands slipped under to cup her breasts. He teased her nipples. They tightened and became more sensitive.

When the kiss ended, she was breathing hard. She rested her head against his chest, and heard the pounding of his heart. He slid his hands down her back, cupped her butt and pulled her close. She wiggled against him, and smiled when he groaned.