Karen Kelley: The Wolf Prince

“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.

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.