The Wolf Prince

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.

“We were very young back then,” Darcy said, but she looked into Surlock’s eyes as if Peter and Annette weren’t even in the car.

“Dar and I go way back. We were practically raised together from the cradle. We probably know each other better than anyone. And how long have you known her?”

Darcy stiffened beside him.

Surlock was not intimidated. “Not long, but I’m sure we’ll make our own memories. In fact, we already have.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter fisted his hands.

Darcy laughed. “Peter, you’re acting like an overprotective big brother.”

Peter visibly forced himself to relax. “You’re right, of course.”

“Annette, tell us about yourself,” Darcy said, changing the subject.

Annette preened. “I own a hair salon. I’m up to three chairs and a manicurist. If the place keeps growing, I’ll have to rent a bigger shop.”

Her voice was sharp and high-pitched. For a moment, Surlock thought the horrible humming was back, but then she cleared her throat and continued in a softer voice.

“I’m doing very well,” she went on, fidgeting with her hands, smoothing the material of her slacks.

“It sounds like it,” Darcy said.

“Oh, I am. I couldn’t afford to catch the eye of one of the sexiest bachelors in the county if I wasn’t. I spent one hundred and fifty dollars on this pantsuit.”

“It’s very glittery,” Darcy said.

“A girl has to have her bling-bling.” She looked at the others, then slunk down a little farther in the seat.

“We’re here,” Peter called out, looking vastly relieved that Annette would have to stop chattering.

The driver pulled to the curb. Annette started to reach for the door handle, but Peter stopped her.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” she said. “I’m not very sophisticated.”

Peter’s face changed colors almost as fast as the tiny lights on the interior roof of the limo.

Surlock wondered why Peter had brought the young woman. They didn’t seem to suit each other very well. Peter acted embarrassed by her.

The driver opened the door and they slid across the seat. Surlock preferred Darcy’s car. It was much easier to get out of. He was grateful to stand on the walkway and stretch his legs.

“Welcome to the Lavender Club,” a man in a dark uniform said, then opened the door.

Peter led the way inside.

“Oh, wow, talk about fancy-shmancy!” Annette breathed.

“Could you please lower your voice,” Peter said between gritted teeth. “And try not to let it show you’re a country bumpkin.”

“I’m sorry.” Annette looked at Surlock, then Darcy, biting her bottom lip. Her hands began to tremble and tears filled her eyes.

Peter sighed deeply. “No, I’m sorry. I’m a little on edge. Problems at the office.”

Darcy glared at Peter, then took Annette’s arm in hers. “It is pretty fancy-shmancy, isn’t it?” Darcy said, staring at the lavender carpet, then the chandeliers. “You know, Annette, I need to make an appointment to get a trim. You’re the expert, what do you think?”

Annette brightened. “Maybe just a little off the ends. You must have a great hairdresser, though. The style suits you.”

“But I don’t have one in Summerville. Well, until now, if you can squeeze in another client.”

“Certainly. It would be an honor.”

“Great, I’ll call this week and make an appointment.”

“If you two are through chatting, our table is ready,” Peter told them.

“Don’t get your briefs in a wad, Peter,” Darcy said in a soft, silky voice before she breezed past him.

Surlock was grinning when he caught up to her. “You handled that very well.”

“I loathe Peter when he gets like this.” She made a face.

“Why did you ever date him?”

She shrugged. “He isn’t always a snob. I think he’s only angry that you’re a part of my life. He’s always been very protective of me.”

Surlock picked up on one phrase. “Am I a part of your life?” He pulled her chair out and she sat. “Am I?” he asked again when she didn’t answer.

“Well, yes.” She fiddled with her lavender napkin, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Good,” he said. “Because I think you’re a part of mine, too.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Peter asked as he pulled Annette’s chair out for her. After she was seated, Peter went to his, gripping the back until his knuckles turned white, then pulling it out very easily, as if nothing brewed inside him.

“Now, Peter, a girl isn’t supposed to tell all her secrets,” Darcy told him.

“So what do you do?” Annette asked Darcy.

“I’m a private investigator,” she said, sitting a little taller.

Peter snorted, then brought his napkin up to his mouth. “Sorry, darling,” he told Darcy, then turned to Annette. “She has the title, but she’s never walked the walk.”

“Actually, I’ve hired her to discover some vital information that I need. I’ve been quite pleased with the job she’s done so far,” Surlock informed him.

Peter’s eyebrows rose. “Does your mother know?”

Darcy frowned. “I don’t need my mother’s permission. I’m over eighteen.”

“Then she doesn’t.”

“No, and you’re not going to tell her. I’ll do that myself, thank you very much.”

“Now don’t get in a tizzy. Of course, I wouldn’t dare bring it up to Mary.” He smirked. “Do you think I’m crazy? Why, she’d have my head for not stopping you.”

“I’d love it if I didn’t have to work,” Annette said with a sigh.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Darcy said. “It makes me feel incomplete.”

“There’s always charity work, Dar,” Peter told her. “No need to get your hands dirty—unless it’s when you’re counting all your daddy’s money.”

Surlock watched and saw the anger beginning to rise inside Darcy. If a man hadn’t come by and asked if they would like something to drink, he had a feeling Darcy might have leapt across the table and strangled Peter. That would make the evening a lot more interesting.

“And for you, sir?” the waiter asked him.

He had no idea what to order. Or maybe he did. “Orange juice.”

Peter snorted again. “What, are you in training?”

“I order what I like. Isn’t that what you did?”

Peter frowned, but didn’t say anything.

By the time their meal arrived, Darcy was ready to call it a night. Peter was being particularly obnoxious, and Surlock was making sure Peter knew which man she belonged to. She felt as though she was being pulled in both directions.

And then there was poor Annette, who was way out of her league, even though Darcy was trying to make her feel more comfortable. The only thing good about their evening was the food.

The band was assembling just as they finished their meal. Darcy used to refer to their offerings as elevator music. Her parents often brought her to this club when they were staying at their country estate. Her mother called the music soothing. Darcy supposed it was, but sometimes she longed for more.

Jennifer, her best friend, knew how to party. She went to all the in clubs. Darcy had been a few times, but she’d always had it drilled into her head how she was supposed to conduct herself. And so she had.

All that was about to change. As soon as she got up the nerve to tell her mother that she was going to get a real job. This time she would do it, too. No matter how many tears her mother shed. She cringed at the thought of her mother getting upset again and all because Darcy wanted to go to work. They would both have to be strong.

“Darcy, would you like to?” Peter asked, breaking into her thoughts.

She blinked, forgetting for a moment where she was. “Would I like to what?”

He stood and came around to her chair. “Dance with me. I’m sure Surlock wouldn’t mind.” He smiled and held out his hand.

Darcy didn’t have much of a choice. It would be impolite not to accept his invitation. She and Peter had been friends for a long time. So maybe he was acting a bit of an ass tonight, but he had always been very protective of her. He’d also saved her butt a few times, if she remembered correctly. He’d never told her mother that Darcy was the one who broke that window when she was twelve, and he was fourteen. Peter could have said something, but he hadn’t.

So she stood and took his hand. She couldn’t help comparing it to Surlock’s. His grip was strong and firm. Peter’s was, well, a little on the soft side.

Once they were on the dance floor, he pulled her tight against him. She wiggled away until there was some distance between them. He laughed.

“What? Do you think Surlock will get jealous?”

“Why are you trying to start a fight with him?” She leaned back until she could look into his face.

He sighed deeply. “I care about you. I always have.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Okay, so tell me about this guy.” He nodded his head toward Surlock. “How much do you know about him?”

“Enough,” she hedged.

“That’s what I thought. You barely know the guy.”

“That’s not true. Can we talk about something else?”

“Fair enough. How about this? I love you and I always have. I’ve wanted you to be my wife since the night of the prom, but you always wanted to do something else with your life. I’ve been waiting patiently for you to see what’s been right in front of your face. Now it seems I need to rock the boat before you run off with this Surlock guy.”

“Oh, Peter.” She felt awful. “I never guessed.” But she should have. All those years of the laughing and playing together. He’d been her first kiss. Nothing more than that, but he had been the first guy she’d ever petted with. She had to admit that he was a pretty good kisser.

“Then say yes. Tell me that you’ll marry me and make me the happiest man on earth. We have everything in common. The same backgrounds. And your parents would be thrilled if we married.” He raised her chin with one finger. “You’ve always wanted to make your parents proud. This would do it.”

The music stopped and he pulled her toward the table before she had a chance to say anything. He was beaming when they stopped beside it.

“Champagne!” He snapped his fingers toward the waiter. “We have reason to celebrate. I’ve just asked the love of my life if she will marry me.”

“Peter!”

He hugged her close. “It’s okay, sweetheart. They’re both thrilled for us.”

She met Surlock’s fiery eyes. Thrilled was not the word she would have used to describe him. And poor Annette looked as if her heart were breaking in two.

How the hell did she get herself in these predicaments?