“Maybe Eddie has information,” she said. The mystery could be over sooner than she thought.
But she noticed as they walked back, Surlock seemed to be on guard, his gaze darting past the trees and up the trail. He also put himself between the wooded area and herself. He was wrong about her being in danger.
Great, she had her very own cover-model-sexy bodyguard by her side. Okay, that might not be so hard to adjust to—as long as he didn’t smother her.
“Don’t worry so,” he said. “You’ll discover my identity, and we’ll learn why I’m here.”
As they rounded the corner past a row of bushes and walked up the steps that led to the swimming pool, she leaned closer to Surlock, slipping her arm around his waist. It felt right when he draped his arm across her shoulders.
“You two seem awfully cozy,” a male voice put in a little petulantly.
Startled, her head jerked up. “Peter, what are you doing here?”
Surlock gripped her arm, but showed no other outward sign that he’d slipped back into protective mode. Good grief, Peter offered no threat. She’d known him all her life. When they’d reached their teens, they’d even briefly dated, but it hadn’t lasted. He was more like a slightly older brother to her. Best buds. But why was he here now?
“Is that any way to greet an ex-boyfriend?” His gaze strayed to Surlock, a smile playing about his lips.
Did Surlock growl? It was a barely perceptible noise, but she was almost certain it was a growl. She squeezed his hand to reassure him she was in no danger.
She hurried to Peter and let him embrace her in a hug. “I’ll murder you later,” she whispered, then quickly stepped away. She certainly didn’t want Surlock going into attack mode. Not that she really thought he would. Just in case, she hurried back to Surlock, who looked quite grim.
“Peter is an old friend. I’ve known him all my life,” she quickly assured Surlock. “Peter, this is Surlock, a new friend.”
Peter stepped forward, reaching out with his hand. “Ouch. You make me feel quite ancient, Dar.” He followed his words with laughter.
Peter was nice looking, very GQ, with light blond hair. He was always impeccably dressed. Today he wore a beige pullover top and deep green slacks.
“It’s nice to meet a friend of Darcy’s,” he said.
Surlock looked at Peter’s hand, but didn’t take it. Peter’s eyebrow rose.
“He’s not from around here,” she quickly intervened, turning to Surlock. “It’s customary to shake someone’s hand.” She took Peter’s hand and shook it, then aimed Surlock’s hand toward Peter’s. Surlock was not being very cooperative, but he did take Peter’s hand finally and they shook.
“That’s some grip you have there. Almost like you actually work for a living,” Peter said. “Where exactly are you from?”
“Sweden,” Darcy said quickly. “How long are you down for, Peter?”
“A few weeks.” His cell rang. “Excuse me. It would seem I can never get away from business and since I am the vice-president of my father’s paper company … Well, I’m sure you understand.” He took his cell out of his pocket and walked a short distance away.
“I don’t like him,” Surlock said, continuing to glare at Peter’s back. “Maybe he’s the danger.”
Oh, good Lord! “I’ve known Peter all my life. His parents’ estate is next to ours. We dated a few months, but he’s always seemed more like a brother to me so I broke it off. Believe me, he’s no threat. You can relax.”
“Why did you tell him I’m from Sweden?” He turned his attention back to her. “What is Sweden?”
“Sweden is a country.” She blushed. “I didn’t want him to think you were a freeloader or anything.”
“What’s a freeloader?”
“Someone who …” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not. I just don’t want anyone to know you have amnesia. Remember, you’re supposed to be my boyfriend. It might be kind of tricky convincing someone that we’re dating if neither one of us knows who you are.”
He studied her face, then nodded. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Peter snapped his phone closed. His shoulders were stiff as he shoved it in his pocket before turning to face them again. She would have thought he was angry, except for the smile on his face.
“Sorry about that.” Peter rejoined them. “What did you say you do for a living?”
“I didn’t,” Surlock said just as easily.
Peter laughed. “No, you didn’t, and I’m being crass. It’s just that I’ve known Dar for some time now and I’d hate for her to get mixed up with the wrong kind of person. There are a lot of people who would only be interested in her money.”
“Peter!”
“Not that you would be, of course,” Peter said. “I never meant to imply you would. No offense.”
“Of course not,” Surlock said.
Darcy looked between the two men again. Great, a pissing contest. That was all she needed.
“There’s a band at the club tonight,” Peter said. “I stopped by to see if you’d like to go. The invitation is open to you both, of course. I’ll bring a date.”
Darcy looked between the two men again. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Yes, I would like that,” Surlock said.
Now what was he up to?
“Good.” Peter beamed. “I’ll drop by at eight to pick you both up.”
Darcy had a feeling nothing good would come of this. As Peter walked away, she turned on Surlock. “What was that all about?” she whispered, not wanting Peter to overhear.
“I like to keep my enemies close.” Surlock’s gaze was fixed on Peter’s back.
“Peter is not an enemy. I told you that.”
“I think he is.”
Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. She was not looking forward to tonight. Not one little bit.
CHAPTER 9
Surlock didn’t like Peter. He liked him even less sitting in the back of what Peter had called a limo. The man acted as though he were superior to everyone else, and he looked at Darcy like she was a stack of pancakes with syrup drizzling over the sides and he was starving. Peter was careful not to let Darcy see. He didn’t seem to care that Surlock did.
“Have you ever ridden in a limo?” Peter asked, casually draping his arm around the woman who sat beside him. He’d called her Annette. She seemed unsure of herself, as if she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing. Surlock could relate to the feeling.
“No.” He had no memory of riding in a vehicle like this. He had no memory of any vehicles, but Darcy didn’t want him to tell anyone.
“Remember the first time we rode in a limo,” Peter asked, turning his attention to Darcy.
Darcy chuckled, then tried to cover it with a cough. Peter laughed.
“You know I have to tell them the story.” He smiled at Surlock, but his eyes revealed something entirely different. They were calculating. “It was much like this one. It was back in the city and our fathers wanted us to go to the prom in style. They forgot to ask that the alcohol be removed. We were only going to have a taste.”
Darcy shifted in her seat. “I don’t think they want to hear this.” She glanced warily at Surlock.
Surlock reached over and took her hand, squeezing it lightly, before bringing it to his lips and lightly kissing her knuckles. “But I do. I want to know everything about you.”
She returned his smile, but when he grazed his thumb across the palm of her hand, she drew in a sharp breath and automatically leaned toward him.
“See,” Peter said, interrupting what was going on between Surlock and Darcy. “I told you they would want to hear the story.” He cleared his throat. “By the time we got to the dance we were both tipsy.”
Darcy leaned her head against Surlock’s shoulder. He put his arm across hers, and she leaned more into him. Surlock watched Peter from the corner of his eye and saw the flare of his nostrils, the anger he barely held in check.