To Bedevil A Beauty (Southern Sanctuary - Book 5) (3 page)

“I
am really, really beginning to hate you guys.” 

Puffball
purred loudly, which sounded distinctly like the feline equivalent of blowing a
raspberry.

Chapter
Two

Ramsey
studied the quaint two-storey farm house in the lengthening shadows of the late
afternoon.  White, with a wraparound veranda, the building was typical of the
area where the locals still farmed their own land, though mainly for
subsistence purposes.  Which was evident on this property by the rows of
fruit trees lining the driveway up to the house and the large vegetable garden
off to the left. 

No
little old lady was standing on the veranda, wringing her hands, waiting
impatiently for him.
 
If anything, the
place kind of looked deserted.  All the windows dark except for one dim
light glowing from the front downstairs room. 

Exiting
his car, Ramsey moved with unconscious silent stealth across the driveway and
up the three stairs to the veranda.  Still no little old lady in sight,
should he go looking for her?  Perhaps she’d had an episode.  Getting
locked out and being worried about the safety of her no doubt, multitude of
cats, might have been more anxiety than the elderly Judge could deal with.

He
froze for a moment, frowning, the front door was ever so slightly ajar. None of
the aged weatherboards beneath his boots made a sound as he stole forward,
absently moving his right hand to rest on the butt of his gun, holstered at his
belt.  Alert, ready for any sign of trouble, he silently nudged the door
slowly open. 

Whatever
he’d been expecting to find… well this sure as hell wasn’t it.  Never in
all his life had he been so grateful for his natural stealth because damn it,
he really needed a few seconds to process this.
 
The delicate curve of her spine, the gentle swell of her hips, the
gorgeous waterfall of glossy dark curls and all that dusky exposed skin. 

Nope,
the one thing he hadn’t been expecting to find, was a half-naked strange girl,
breaking into the Judge’s house.  He hadn’t moved, barely breathed but
miraculously she sensed his presence, her head shooting up. 

“I
swear if you tell my Mother about…”  She stopped abruptly as her eyes met
his.  “Eek.”  She clutched the small red velvet cushion she was
holding tighter to her chest.  “Goddess, who the hell are you?”

“I
believe that’s the question I should be asking you.”

“This
isn’t funny.  I don’t care who you are, can you help me get unstuck here?”

“Well…
um.”

“What
do you mean, well…um?”

Ramsey
liked the way her dark brown eyes sparkled with high emotion, as she tossed her
head back shooting him an angry glare.  It was a rare treat for him to
have a beautiful woman get angry with him.  Usually they were far too
intimidated to engage him in conversation, let alone argue with him.  “You
might be a housebreaker… can’t be too careful these days.”

“I’m
naked!  Do I look like a housebreaker?”  A feminine sigh of deep
disgust was issued.

Ramsey
shrugged innocently, damn she was pretty, even upside down and wedged under a
window.  He couldn’t help himself, he wanted to rile her up a bit
more.  “Well I’m from the city.  Maybe you do things differently out
here in the country.”

“Seriously?” 
She blew out a deep incredulous breath, clutching the cushion as she pushed her
curls out of her eyes to get a better look at the man mountain looming in the
doorway.

“Well
not really… if I was serious, I’d be pointing my gun your way, telling you to
drop the cushion and reach for the sky.”

“What
do you not understand about the fact that I’m naked?”

“Trust
me, I’m all too aware of your current state of undress, must be something in
the air out here or is there a colony nearby?”

“Colony? 
Oh, you’ve met Barty.”

“He’s
on the loose as we speak.”

“Damn,
means he’ll be coming up before me next week.
 
Just what I don’t need, him stripping in court as a form of protest
against the over-clothed society we now live in.”

Ramsey
frowned.  “You’re the Judge?”

“Oh
course I’m the Judge… who else would I be?”

“Judge
Beryl Malone?  Owner of a house full of cats?  Little old lady?”

“Hey,
watch it with the age jokes buster, I’m only 32.  And I do not have
cats…”  She raised her voice for some unknown reason.  “I HATE CATS!”

“Okay,
calm down Beryl, I just need to see some ID.”

Those
brown eyes, the colour of the most sinful dark chocolate glared his way once
more.  “And just where would I keep ID on me in this state, Hotshot? 
Up my butt?”

“See
there, that’s why I need ID.  No Judge I know would say something like
that.”

“And
you’d know a lot of Judges would you?  Just who in the hell are you
anyway?”

“I’m
the new Chief of Police for the Southern Sanctuary, Ramsey Hughes.  Now I
just need to work out what the hell I’m going to do with you.”

*                        
*                     
*

Damn
and double damn.  Why did the Chief have to say that last statement and
why did she have to be meeting his gaze when he said it?  Instantly Berry
was assailed with every option Ramsey Hughes had open to him when it came to
what he was going to do with her
. 

That
was her gift as a Mage Pathfinder.  If an individual was at a crossroads
or facing a dilemma, they only had to be making eye contact with Berry and
state their problem out loud. In a split second, Berry would glimpse the first
step open to the individual, all possible roads, every potential choice they
might make.  The best options were always on the well-lit paths, the worst
options led down dark twisty roads.

Goddess,
the man really was contemplating hauling her off to the station for
interrogation. There were a few pathways where he handed her a blanket and
questioned her here at the house until he was satisfied and yet the majority of
the pathways, the hazy, not light, not dark, pathways, involved him helping her
from the window and somehow the two of them were kissing, and touching… and oh
Goddess, no way was she going down any of those pathways.

“Throw
me that rug over there… now!”  She used her sternest - I will put you away
for one hundred years - voice.  “I have ID!   It’s in my bag,
which the cats have attempted to hide under that armchair over there.”

Ramsey’s
eyes widened slightly at the authoritative tone in her voice, damn, who knew he
liked bossy women.  Everything about this dark eyed beauty turned him on,
which would be easy to blame on her current naked state but with the pretzel
position she was in, and all that hair, he had yet to get a really good look at
her.
 
Funny, he wasn’t the type of guy who often
found himself instantly attracted to a woman, the last time was about two and a
half years ago.  Funnier still, how different the two women were.
 
This argumentative spitfire with her flashing
dark eyes and head full of wild curls versus the restrained stunning ice
princess who’d captivated him upon first sight in a Sydney courtroom.

“Blanket! 
ID!”  Berry snapped her fingers.  “Now!”

Biting
back a bark of laughter, Ramsey snagged the purple rug from the sofa and threw
it her way before he strode over to the armchair she’d pointed out.  “I
thought you said you didn’t have any cats?”

“Not
important.  Did you find my bag?”

Ramsey
picked up the heavy old armchair with no visible effort, moving it to the
side.  “Found it.”  He didn’t comment on the cheapness of the black
leather instead he rifled through until her found her wallet.  Flicking
open her driver’s license he bit back another smile. The photo on the ID
depicted her grinning broadly into the camera, her hair flying every which way
around her head, almost as if it had been taken outside.  “Nice photo.”

“Blame
Uncle Timothy… he likes action shots.”

“It’s
not exactly a standard shot.”  Ramsey frowned.

“It
is for the Sanctuary.  So you have proof I am who I say I am.  Could
you help me get out of here now?   If for no other reason than my
butt is starting to freeze.”

Ramsey
scowled down at the license, 5.8ft, dark hair, dark eyes, Beryl Malone.
 
There was no denying it.
 
Yet there was a piece of the puzzle missing,
something tugging at his memory.  Still it would have to wait. The poor
woman was freezing now the sun had finally dipped below the horizon.

“Wait! 
What do you think you’re doing?”

Ramsey
froze mid-step.  “Um, I was going to help you out of there.”

“Not
like that you’re not,” Berry instructed in an exasperated tone, clutching the
rug he’d thrown her way awkwardly around her shoulders.  “Close your eyes
or something and sidle on over.”

“But
if I have my eyes closed… What about if I accidentally touch something unmentionable?” 
Ramsey enquired ruefully.

“Then
we won’t mention it.
 
Now quit with the
flirting Hotshot, and get me out of here.”

Ramsey
blinked; he was flirting?
 
Who
knew?  Even more astounding was that the girl in question recognised it as
flirting and hadn’t misinterpreted it as a death threat or run for the
hills.  His hand hit the wall.
 
Blindly, without peeking, he trailed his hand along until he found the
window. 

“Why
is this taking so long?”  Berry squirmed.  Wow, Chief Hughes was
massive as he loomed over her, tall, lean yet broad with a remarkably muscular
frame… oh Goddess, she desperately needed to create some distance between them
in case she accidentally activated one of those R-rated pathways that involved
the two of them.  No way.  Not at their first meeting.  And not
this single divorced woman, she’d had enough of men.

Ramsey
moved his fingers down over the glass pane until he hit soft warm naked
skin.  Both of them jumping slightly as if electrified.  “Sorry, my
fingers are probably cold.”

“Er…
yes.”  Berry blew out a big sigh as the weight of the window was lifted
from her lower back.  “Don’t look.”  She squeaked out a reminder,
dragging herself through into the room proper, quickly rearranging the rug so that
it covered everything important as she scrambled to her feet. 

Shivering
slightly she leant forward and slid the window shut. Looking up, intending to
thank her rescuer, she found herself abruptly caught and captured by the dark
grey eyes of Ramsey Hughes.  A wave of heat rushing through her body at
the knowledge there was only two feet of space separating them.  Damn,
that khaki official shirt did great things for his eyes.  His dark brown
hair was messy, falling across his forehead as if inviting her to reach up and
push it back. 

Good
Goddess, what was she thinking?  The man looked every inch the bad
boy.
 
The slightly crooked nose, the
penetrating gaze and those intriguing scars along the side of his jaw and
throat, which only ramped up his attraction quota, since he was - oh so
obviously - one of the good guys.  She should thank him, with a handshake,
a kiss, a night of torrid passion.  Merciful Lady help her, maybe she had
hypothermia or some sort of frozen butt - leading to wild wanton acts - disease. 
Nope, she wasn’t going down those paths… remember.

“I
need to get dressed.”  Abruptly she turned, clutching the rug tightly
around her, fleeing to the back of the house and the guestroom she’d taken up
residence in whilst she house-sat. Her intention was to find a nice chastity
belt or suit of armour to change into.  At the very least the nasty
coloured, on sale, sweat suit pants and top that she wore when she cleaned the
house. Nothing said passion killer better than sweats.

Of
course her clever plan didn’t take in to account the claw happy cats. 
What was left of the mud brown coloured sweats was currently piled high on her
bed in a mound of tiny shredded ribbons.
 
A mocking feline gift. 

Goddess,
what did that leave her with exactly?

She
opened her underwear drawer and froze in disbelief, empty, where were all the
packs of cheap cotton bras and knickers she’d bought at the discount super
store?  How had those fiendish fuzzballs accessed the drawer and absconded
with her underwear?  And why?  

Muttering
a litany of curse words under her breath Berry turned to fling open the door to
her closet, staring into the dark depths.
 
Praying not so much for inspiration, but just for something that would
adequately cover all her bits so that she could walk out to the living room,
politely thank Chief Hotshot Hughes for his time, and see him swiftly to the
door. 

So
what were her options?
 
She took a quick
step back as the bridesmaid’s dress she’d been forced to wear to her cousin
Gaia’s wedding loomed out of the dark.  Damn thing, she’d thrown the
hideous monstrosity away twice already, but it kept finding its way back into
the closet.  Even the cats gave the mold green garment a wide berth. 

Berry
was about to swing the door shut in frustration when a brush of silk caressed
her arm.  Oh no… seriously, was that the only thing she had left to
wear?  Her welcome home present from her cousin Riya; she of the magically
talented sewing skills.  Damn, well just because she was going to be
dressed like a seductress didn’t mean she had to act like one… nor, as she
began scaping her hair back off her face vigorously with a brush, did her hair
have to look like Medusa’s snakes trying to escape her head.