To Bedevil A Beauty (Southern Sanctuary - Book 5)

by Jane Cousins

  “Judge?” Ramsey knew the Southern Sanctuary district had unique historic rights to run and maintain their own local police force but it hadn’t occurred to him that there would be a corresponding justice system. Of course he’d spent most of the last few weeks in his office reading reports and coming up to speed on local laws and regulations, it wasn’t surprising that he wasn’t quite au fait with how everything worked just yet in the district.

  “Our last judge, Gr… I mean Uncle Alfric, stepped down eight months ago. Kept falling asleep at the bench, cousin B…”

  “Beryl,” Maureen interrupted Mac’s information download. “Beryl, graciously agreed to take up the position.”

  Ramsey nodded to prove he was listening but seriously, one old doddering fart steps down and another one steps up was not really all that interesting. He wondered if the poor old dear was more worried about the fact she was locked out of her house or that her sea of cats were stuck inside, alone, an untended. He didn’t know what possessed him but he found himself saying. “Okay, I’ll take the Judge. Zeke, you’ll have to deal with the sheep on your own and Gideon, you get the streaker.”

  * * *

  Judge Beryl ‘Berry’ Malone, shivered on the side porch, glaring through the window pane at the - swear to the Goddess, haughty amused looks of - three cats.

  “…blanket.” She kept talking even though she knew Puffball had already hit the disconnect button on her mobile phone. She supposed she should be thankful he’d accidently pressed the 000 emergency number at all. “I’m naked and I really need a blanket.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m getting you all fixed. I don’t care if you’re not my cats. All three of you are headed straight to the vet after this little incident.”

  Cicero yawned, Puffball batted the mobile, sending it skidding across the hardwood floors whilst Limbo, the ringleader, just flicked his tail dismissively.

  Grrr, Berry wanted to scream but she was too busy hugging herself and trying to stay calm. It wasn’t all that cold, the Autumn day had been sunny but the lengthening shadows of the afternoon for some reason made it seem cooler than it really was. Plus there was the whole naked thing, as a light breeze played across her bare skin and slowly dried her shoulder length hair. Double damn, without the aid of a hairdryer it was going to be a wild mess of curls.

  Honestly, she knew she should be grateful she even had a place to live these days, but when her Great-Grandparents had asked her to housesit whilst they travelled to South American to participate in an archaeological dig, they had completely an utterly failed to warn her about the cats.

  Possibly… Berry hugged her arms more tightly around her upper body as the late afternoon breeze picked up slightly, that was because the cats didn’t even belong to her Great-Grandparents. They were the property of her Great-Grandmother’s sisters, who all lived in the beachside retirement village on the far side of the Bay.

  So she had two mysteries on her hands. How did the cats even get all the way out here to the farm, seemingly on a daily basis? And how did the vindictive little bastards keep getting into the house to wreak havoc? Oh no, and let’s not forget the third mystery. Why did the freaky furballs hate her so very much? How else to explain the jagged gnaw marks on all her practical, cheap and yes admittedly, exceedingly ugly shoes? Not to mention the damage they inflicted with unmistakeable wanton glee on her very limited wardrobe. Damaged - shredded by claws – clothes, she could barely afford to replace as it was.

  Bloody hell, she welcomed the rush of anger coursing through her veins, at least the emotion generated some heat, even if it was temporary. When had her life gone so terribly wrong? She was a good person, but in the past two and half years, since her marriage ended, it felt as if the fates themselves were personally punishing her.

  Grrr, she glared at Limbo as he jumped on to the window sill, curling up in a ball as he licked one of his paws and eyed her with unmistakeable disdain through the glass. Goddess damn it, she really thought her luck had changed eight months ago when her Grandfather, Edward, had called, requesting she come home to replace Alfric on the bench. It was a heaven sent offer, she’d been struggling financially to support herself and her mother-in-law, Joanne, following her divorce and the ugly court case that had seen her ex-husband, Robert, jailed. In one fell swoop everything she thought they’d owned had been frozen or repossessed by the government, leaving her with almost nothing.

  She’d had no choice but to battle on, but the money she’d been earning at the Legal Aid office barely covered the rent on the only two bedroom apartment she could afford. Unfortunately it was located in Sydney’s outer, outer, outer western suburbs. The daily public transport costs plus food and clothing for two, dragging her under faster than she could cash her pay check. And thanks to her ex’s highly publicised case, not one of the big money hungry greedy law firms that she had always loudly disdained would offer her a job with an obscenely large pay packet that might help resolve all her problems.

  So moving back to the Sanctuary, a good paying job, a place to house-sit, with the added bonus of a small caretaker’s cottage at the beginning of the driveway for Joanne, had seemed like a Goddess-send. And for the first few months everything had been going relatively well. Living frugally and saving every penny frantically. Okay yes, it had taken some time to get back in the groove of being surrounded by her loving but ultimately well-meaning relatives. And despite her fears that her divorce might have caused some friction with the older generation, for whom divorce was an unprecedented concept, the family had barely shown any interest in the subject. They certainly hadn’t seemed to be embarrassed or upset by her colossal mistake, it had been silly of her to stay away so long.

  Yet none of her recent personal insight and growth prevented her from headlining a whole new category of stupid today as she fell, like a simpleton, for the machinations of three conniving felines. Who had all too easily lured her out of the shower with their ‘pitiful is me, I’m dying’ yowling, only to steal her towel and lock her outside. She tapped the glass lightly to get Limbo’s attention. “You and me Mister… as soon as I get inside.”

  Limbo tilted his sleek black furred head to the side, contemplating her with dark green eyes. Abruptly he uncurled and stretched upwards, pressing his body against the glass. His claws jiggling the lock causing the sash window to shoot upwards.

  “Oh, thank Goddess.” Berry whispered fervently, diving forward. There might just be time to find the phone and cancel the police call, saving her the humiliation of having her story broadcast all around the Sanctuary. She raised a leg to scramble over the high sill and then jumped back as a flashing claw raked lightly down her thigh. “Dammit… Cicero.” She danced a little, regaining her footing before leaning inside the living room to scold the ginger cat. “You little…”

  There was a blur of black above her and suddenly the sash window was sliding downwards. Berry let out a squeak of horror, not quick enough to move either backwards or forward as the window came down to rest on her lower spine. She tried to jerk her weight upwards, the bloody window wouldn’t move and there was no wriggle room. Berry eyed her three nemeses as they returned her gaze from a safe distance of a few feet away.

  “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 had
n’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.