He left the room and went back to the bed, pulling the covers to his waist. At least, his headache had eased, but he was incredibly tired. His eyes were so heavy he didn’t think he could keep them open even if he tried. It was a good thing Darcy had left or he would be forced to remain awake.
As quickly as that thought crossed his mind, he knew the words weren’t true. He wasn’t glad she had left. There was something about her. Something that made him want to know her better. Odd. Especially since she had been the one who had caused him to lose his memory.
He felt as though he’d always known her. Yet, he was certain they had never met until today. He was sure she didn’t recognize him, either.
His body grew weary. It was too much to unravel right now. He yawned, then turned on his side as sleep claimed him. His last thought was that maybe when he woke, he might remember who he was.
CHAPTER 3
Something was different. Darcy didn’t know exactly what, but as she snuggled her pillow closer, and the last bit of sleep drifted away, she knew something in her life had changed.
Then it hit her.
It wasn’t a good different. She had almost killed a man yesterday morning. Oh, hell, what if he’d died during the night while she’d been dreaming…. Her mind was a blank. What had she been dreaming about?
Her face suddenly flooded with heat when she remembered. She’d been dreaming of a sexy, very naked, male god, worshipping at his feet like a horny woman who hadn’t been laid in over a year. That wasn’t true. She’d actually had sex eleven and a half months ago.
Except the man she’d drooled about in her dreams might very well be a corpse right now. Her heart began to pound.
Had Ms. Abernathy buried the body? Did the housekeeper know that would make her an accessory? Darcy grimaced when she thought about sharing a cell with her. Not that she disliked the housekeeper. She’d been almost as much of a mother to Darcy as her adoptive mother. Hmm, and bossy, now that she thought about it. But still, she didn’t want Ms. Abernathy to go to prison because she was being overprotective.
Darcy flung the cover aside and jumped out of bed, glancing at the clock. It was barely six. She rushed toward the closet, but stopped at the French doors that led to her balcony. Her room was directly across from the guest house. If something had happened to Surlock during the night, she would be able to tell from her room—maybe.
She opened the double doors and rushed out onto the balcony, then stumbled to a stop. The swimming pool was between her room and the guest house. Surlock stood on the diving board, his arms raised. The sun peeked over the horizon, casting everything in a hazy early morning light. There was enough light that she could see him, though.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. The man was truly magnificent, and very naked. Right now, she didn’t really mind that he disliked clothes. Boy, did she not mind!
His muscles weren’t so big that he looked deformed. No, they were just right. His chest was broad with just a sprinkling of dark hair. Her gaze dropped lower. Nice. Very nice.
A burning need grew inside her. For just a moment, she wondered what it would feel like to lie naked in his arms, to have his body pressed against hers. The ache inside her grew until she trembled with need. Her last few dates had been losers. She had a feeling Surlock would be good in bed. He would know how to please a woman.
Her hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms as she stifled the groan that threatened to explode from her. She needed good sex. Maybe Surlock was a gift from the sex gods and she was meant to have him. It could happen. Before she could get too far into her fantasy, he dove into the water, causing barely a ripple.
She leaned over the balcony. Nice ass. Firm. Hmm, with a tattoo on the upper right cheek. Or a birthmark. Odd, she had a birthmark in the same place. She squinted her eyes, but he was too far away for her to tell exactly what it was. What were the odds it would be the same as her birthmark? She quickly dismissed the thought as she lost herself watching him swim the length of the pool.
The muscles in his back tightened and relaxed as he reached forward in the water. He swam to the end of the pool, then turned and swam back. His movements were those of a professional.
Maybe that was what he was—a swimmer.
Yeah, right, he’d been running around naked in the woods looking for a pool. With a wolf at his side.
What if he’d been raised by wolves? He’d growled at Dr. Wilson. Surlock did come across as a little wild, untamed. A fantasy formed in her mind. Surlock was Tarzan of the wolves, and he was looking for a woman he could steal away and take back to his den.
She shook her head. Ridiculous. Besides, since she had hit him over the head, Darcy kind of doubted she would be in the running as someone he would whisk away. The thought of spending time lying in his arms was nice, though.
Surlock popped out of the water, levering himself to the side of the pool, slinging his wet hair out of his face. He sat there for a moment, catching his breath, before getting to his feet. Rather than go immediately back to the guest house, he looked up, their gazes locking, as though he’d known she watched him the whole time. He seemed quite unconcerned he was naked.
He didn’t smile or wave. Not even a nod. He only stared at her for a long moment, his gaze slipping down her body, caressing her with his eyes, causing goose bumps to pop up on her arms. For a brief moment, something passed between them. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
He abruptly turned and walked to the guest house, stealing her breath as he did. The guy had a seriously sexy ass. Why had he looked at her so strangely? As if she was the one who was naked.
She glanced down and had her answer. She was wearing her thin white gown. The silky material clearly outlined her tight nipples, and was so low cut that it left little to the imagination. Great, now who was the exhibitionist? She turned and sauntered back into her room, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth. She had a feeling her life had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.
Just as quickly, her smile slipped. Where the hell was Surlock’s nurse? A cold chill washed over her. What if he’d killed Twila during the night? She paused, hand on the doorknob. Darcy might very well be harboring a serial killer.
She shook her head, then went inside the bathroom. Of course, he hadn’t killed Twila. If he had, he wouldn’t be taking a swim in the pool. He’d have been long gone. Twila was probably still asleep. It wasn’t like the nurse was that young. She was what? Getting close to sixty?
Darcy hurried through her shower, then dressed in shorts and a button-down blue top before she rushed downstairs. Two young maids were giggling in the dining room as they set the plates on the buffet for breakfast, but stopped when she walked past.
“Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes,” Ms. Abernathy told Darcy as she walked from the kitchen.
“I’ll let Surlock know,” Darcy told her as if she hadn’t planned to hurry over to the guest house anyway.
The two maids giggled and earned one of Ms. Abernathy’s famous glares. They quickly stifled their laughter and hurried back into the kitchen.
Ms. Abernathy turned her gaze on Darcy. Whatever the housekeeper was about to say, Darcy didn’t think it would bode well for her.
Shades of when she was fourteen came back to haunt her. She’d gotten caught cutting the coconut cake Ms. Abernathy had made for their neighbor, Ms. Bishop, who had just come home from the hospital. Darcy hadn’t known it was for Ms. Bishop, though, but had still suffered a scolding. Darcy now felt as if she were about to relive that moment.