“My parents have a lot of money, so I don’t have to work.” She shifted in her seat.
“So, you do nothing all day.”
“No! I do lots of things. I go to charity functions and … and …” Her shoulders dropped.
Again, he felt sorry he’d caused her to feel bad. “There is something you want to do, though,” he guessed.
She glanced across the seat. Her gaze returned to the road. “I want work as a P.I.,” she said as if telling him a big secret. “I have all the training. I took some college courses, but then I took classes outside of college so I could get licensed.”
“What’s a P.I.?”
“A private investigator. I want to find things or people who are lost. I’m good at hunting.”
He closed his eyes against the blinding pain that shot through his head. He could see himself hunting, going after game in the night. Hunting, watching, attacking. But it felt more as if he were in another body. The humming grew more intense. He grabbed his head, groaning.
“Surlock, what’s wrong?” The car slowed, crunched across gravel, then stopped.
The pain was easing, but he kept his eyes closed, his hands holding his head. “I saw something. Hunting. But not me. I was someone else. Then the humming in my head. It’s confusing.”
She pulled his head against her chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault,” he managed to tell her.
“Shh, don’t talk. Just keep your eyes closed and try to relax.”
He took a deep breath, and caught the exotic aroma of the scent she wore. The pain stopped, but was replaced with a different kind of hurt. She absently kissed the top of his head, smoothed her fingers across his forehead. He tilted his head until he could see her face. She hesitated, then lowered her lips to his in a gentle kiss.
At least, he was pretty sure she meant it to be gentle, but as soon as her tongue stroked his, she awakened something inside him. Something he couldn’t control. Or maybe he just didn’t want to control it. He cupped the back of her head, bringing her closer. The humming quieted.
He slid his hand under her top, under her bra, and grazed his thumb over her nipple. She moaned, surrendering to his touch, pressing closer.
The blast from a car horn broke them apart. Someone called out for them to “get a room,” which was ridiculous. He was quite happy where he was.
“I’m sorry,” she stuttered as she straightened her clothes.
“Why?” Surlock groaned in frustration.
Her face was infused with a rosy tint. “Because I didn’t mean for my comforting to go quite that far.”
“I liked it.” He reached toward her, but she quickly pulled away so he let his hand drop to the seat.
“That’s the problem. So did I, and I know nothing about you.” She started the car, then backed out into the road. She continued toward her family’s estate.
“Sometimes you can know everything there is to know about a person and not know them at all,” he told her.
She pulled up to the iron gates and pushed a button inside the car. The gates swung open and she drove to the house.
“I still don’t know anything about you. How can I pretend to be your boyfriend?”
“I’ll make a list.”
“I don’t want a list. That won’t work. We’ll need to spend time together if we are to convince anyone. And we’ll have to convince the staff first.”
She cast a wary look in his direction before returning her gaze to the road. “You’re right.”
“And I want to know more about this P.I. business. My mind is lost. Maybe you can help me find it.”
And maybe she could explain the incredible pull he felt toward her. It was almost as though there was some kind of connection between them. He had a feeling Darcy might be part of the reason why he was here.
CHAPTER 5
Adrenaline rushed through Darcy as she stepped outside. She needed to figure out what her first step would be to discover who Surlock was, and why he’d been running around the woods naked.
Deep in thought, she wandered aimlessly down the path that wound through the garden at the side of the house. Still, she couldn’t stop the flutter of excitement that swept through her. Her skills would be put to the test. Someone had offered her a job.
She chewed her bottom lip. Of course, she had been the one who caused Surlock’s amnesia, so it was only right that she should be the one who helped restore it. And she would. She would discover Surlock’s identity, solve the mystery and soothe her guilty conscience.
Darcy truly did love her mother, but having a real job was like a dream come true. Maybe this was fate. She was achieving her goal, grabbing the brass ring as it went by. She hugged her middle, barely able to keep a shout of joy from escaping past her lips. She could do this. She only had to piece everything together. Like one big puzzle.
Doubt suddenly reared its ugly head, and her excitement plummeted. But what if she couldn’t do this? All this time she’d told herself she wanted to be a P.I., but what if finding out who Surlock was or where he came from proved to be too difficult? What if she was only fooling herself, using her mother as an excuse so that Darcy wouldn’t have to face the fact she might be a failure.
“You look deep in thought,” Surlock said as he came up beside her. He glanced around. “It’s nice out here.” He leaned forward and brought one of the delicate pink flowers to his nose. “It smells nice. What is it?”
“I’m not sure about that particular flower. Ralph takes care of the garden, so you would have to ask him. I know some of the names, but mostly I just enjoy their smell and how pretty they are.” She tilted her head and looked up at him. “Most men would never admit they liked flowers.”
“Why?” he asked.
Again with the whys. She shrugged. “Too feminine, I guess.”
“But you enjoy this place.” He waved his arm in front of him.
“I find solace out here.” She strolled farther down the pea gravel path. He walked beside her. “Dad had the fountain put in because Mother loves the water. They have a beach house on the coast, too.” She was rambling, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. How could she tell Surlock that she might not discover anything about him?
“Your father must earn a lot of money.”
Startled, she looked at him, but didn’t see the usual calculating gleam. That was another thing about her boyfriends: Most of them liked the idea that her parents were wealthy. Did Surlock fit into that category?
She continued to study him for a moment, then dismissed that idea. Surlock had stated it more as a fact, rather than anything else. She breathed a sigh of relief, then wondered why she should care. Okay, so maybe she was attracted to him just a little—or a lot.
“Dad has his own business,” she told him. “That, and my parents inherited from their parents. They’ve also made wise investments over the years.”
“But you’re not happy?”
She stopped at a bench and sat on the flowered cushion. Surlock chose a chair angled slightly toward the bench. Wisteria grew thick over the arbor, creating a shady canopy. In the spring, large, grapelike clusters of flowers would hang from the branches.
“I have everything I could ever want,” she finally told him. And she did. Her parents had always given her anything she desired.
“That’s not what I asked. Sometimes material possessions can only give short-term gratification.”
She studied him. “Maybe you’re a monk.”
“A monk?”
“Yes, a priest. They don’t put much stock in worldly goods, but rather in life.” She brushed strands of loose hair behind her ear and shifted to a more comfortable position on the cushions.
He nodded. “Then maybe that is who I am.”
“They’re also celibate.” When he didn’t seem to recognize the word, she explained, “They have taken a vow of chastity. No sex.”
Good Lord, could she have knocked a monk out cold? Maybe he’d been on a pilgrimage, giving up all worldly possessions, including his clothes. She was pretty sure lusting after a priest would get her a ticket to hell.