“Yes, well, almost certain.” He reached for her, but she sidestepped him.
“I think there’s been a little too much testosterone flowing tonight. I’m tired of being pulled in different directions by men who want to take care of me. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just go up to my room.”
She started past him, but he pulled her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss stole her breath away and sent heat spiraling to every part of her body. Before she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer, he stepped away, running the back of his fingers over her cheek.
“I hope your dreams are pleasant.” He walked around the side of the house and disappeared.
Darcy wanted to call him back. Her body was on fire, the ache to have him make love to her almost unbearable.
No! She needed to make him pay for treating her as if she couldn’t take care of herself. She would not be spending the night with him tonight. That would teach him a lesson.
“Yeah, right,” she mumbled before flouncing into the house.
Running through the woods, breathing hard. Overhead branches. Something near.
Chasing.
No, just running together.
A wolf. More than one.
Fear, trembling.
No, there was no fear. This was right. As it should be.
“Who am I?” Darcy asked.
“One of us. Symtarian.”
Darcy sat up with a start. There was humming in her ears, and sweat drenched her nightgown. What had happened? She held her head as tears streamed down her face, her body trembling. She was losing her mind.
The French doors opened. She gasped, head jerking around. Surlock stood in the doorway. The light from the moon bathed his naked body.
“I had a nightmare,” she whispered.
He hurried to her, enfolding her in his arms. She laid her head against his chest and listened to the comforting beat of his heart.
“It was only a dream,” he whispered close to her ear.
“I was running through the woods.”
“I was there.”
“What’s a Symtarian?”
She felt him shake his head.
“I don’t know,” he finally told her. “I don’t know. I think it might be who we are.”
“Animals? Wolves?” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Could we be werewolves?” Oh, God, she didn’t want to be some kind of monster that went around scaring little children.
“I don’t know what you speak of,” he said.
“Werewolves are creatures that rip off the heads of humans.”
“No, I don’t think we’re monsters.”
“Just Symtarians.”
“We may be.”
“I’ve never heard of a place called Symtaria.”
“Maybe it was just a dream.”
She leaned back and looked at him. “Do you really think so?” She studied his face. He hesitated. “The truth.”
“I don’t think we’re like everyone else. Why would we share the same dreams?”
She leaned back against his chest. “You’re right. I’ve never heard of that until now. Maybe we’re both crazy and we’re in denial.”
“I’m glad that we’re in this together.”
“Me, too.”
He laid her back against the pillow. A breeze drifted in through the doors he’d left open. She was glad he didn’t leave, but scooted in next to her.
“How did you get into my room?” she asked.
“Climbed.”
“That’s dangerous. Please don’t do it again. I’d hate to wake some morning and find your battered corpse lying on the ground below my balcony.”
His chest rumbled again. “Sleep,” he told her. “I’ll stay and chase the bad dreams away.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I will always be here for you.”
Darcy had a feeling he told the truth. It didn’t seem to matter that he’d gone into protective mode again. Just as long as he didn’t go overboard. She yawned and snuggled against his bare skin.
Darcy yawned and stretched as she came awake. The night came rushing back. Her gaze flew to the French doors leading out to the balcony. They were closed. Had she dreamed Surlock’s coming to her last night? That he had somehow shared her dream?
She flung away the cover and swung her feet off the bed, padding barefoot to the doors. She hesitated before opening them, then stepped onto the stone balcony. She breathed easier when she didn’t see Surlock’s lifeless body lying all bruised and bloody on the ground.
Had any of it really happened? She shook her head and went back inside. When she went downstairs, Surlock was laughing with Ms. Abernathy as they stood in the hallway.
Laughing?
“Good morning,” she said.
Ms. Abernathy smiled. “Good morning, child. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” Darcy hesitantly told her.
“Good, good. I’ve got a fine breakfast. Hurry in before it gets cold. French toast this morning. Your favorite.”
“Thanks.” Darcy looked at Surlock and wondered what exactly he’d been up to.
“No trouble at all,” Ms. Abernathy said as she hurried back to the kitchen.
“You’ve been busy this morning,” Darcy said. “What exactly has been going on?” She led the way to the dining room, needing a lot of coffee.
“Nothing.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Nothing. Hmm, why do I doubt that nothing has been going on while I was asleep?”
“Nothing much,” he expanded.
“And what has put the housekeeper in such a good mood?” She took a plate off the stack and began to get her food. “She was practically glowing.”
He shrugged. “I played her a song.”
“A song?”
“She hummed it and I picked up the tune. It made her happy.”
She took her food and coffee to the table and sat down. He joined her. Surlock acted as if nothing had happened last night. Maybe it hadn’t. It could all have been a dream. She picked up her cup and took a drink.
“So, you have no idea who or what a Symtarian might be?” he suddenly asked out of the blue.
She jumped, then carefully set her cup back on the saucer. “I thought I’d dreamed last night. It happened then? I mean, both of us having the same dream? That we were wolves running in a pack. That I heard one of the wolves thoughts telling me I was Symtarian?”
He picked up a slice of bacon and bit into it, slowly chewing. “Yes, it all happened.”
She moved the food around on her plate with her fork, but didn’t eat any of it. “You still don’t think we might both be crazy? I mean really—wolves?”
He shook his head, then smiled. A soft, gentle smile that wrapped around her and held her close. “No, I don’t think we’re both crazy, but I certainly think we’re different.”
Different? That was an understatement. She had no idea what her background was. Maybe her parents had been certifiable and she was following in their footsteps. None of it made sense. Surlock hadn’t been sent here to protect her. Unless it was to protect her from losing her mind, and she wasn’t so sure anyone could help her with that.
“Eat, we have a lot to do today.” He shoved part of the French toast into his mouth, then closed his eyes as if he’d died and gone to heaven.
There was a little bit of syrup at the corner of his mouth. She raised her hand, but his tongue came out of his mouth and licked it away. God, how could he make the act of licking away a little drop of syrup look so damn sensual?
She swallowed hard, then cut into her French toast. “What exactly are we going to be doing?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her as if she should already know the answer. “We have to find Symtaria. If we can find this place, we’ll have our answers.”
She should’ve figured that one out. She was the P.I., after all. And she would’ve, too. He’d just beat her to the punch. She would be the one who actually found it, though. How hard could it be to locate a place called Symtaria?
CHAPTER 11