To Bedevil A Beauty (Southern Sanctuary - Book 5)

by Jane Cousins

  Instantly, every instinct he had flared. All his attention zeroing to the left. Clashing with the gaze of the man who’d just rounded the corner of the building, moving silently. The stranger came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the patio, only the slight widening of his eyes for a split second indicating that he was surprised to find Ramsey seated there, glaring his way.

  Ramsey recognised him instantly, from the woods. He was one of the three men who moved through the terrain like ghosts, from Hidden Cove, Berry’s Dad had said. Ramsey gave him a wary nod of acknowledgement. “You’re the wrong gender if you’re here for the party.”

  The other man hesitated for another moment before continuing his approach across the empty patio towards Ramsey. “I came by to speak with you Hughes.” His voice low and husky. Pitched only slightly louder than a whisper.

  “Then why so surprised to see me?” Ramsey questioned warily, shifting his weight slightly, getting ready to spring forward and tackle the newcomer if needed.

  The Hidden Cove guy laughed abruptly, a rough sound, as though he didn’t do it often. “I suppose you could say I was caught off guard for a moment. That’s twice now.”

  Ramsey hid a frown, cryptic much? He gestured to the empty seat across from him. “Talk.”

  Hidden Cove guy nodded, taking a seat in the chair indicated, his movements so graceful, it was almost as if he was being careful not to disturb the air around him. “I’m Sinclair.”

  The man was tall, only an inch or so smaller than Ramsey, though perhaps Sinclair was a little broader across the chest. He wore dark jeans, a long sleeved top and boots. His hair was so dark brown only the bright overhead sun kept it from appearing black as it fell to Sinclair’s shoulders in a choppy mess. Several days’ growth of beard clung to his jaw, suggesting he hadn’t rested much since the day of the shooting. His dark green eyes appraised Ramsey with a decidedly curious look.

  “You might as well call me, Ramsey.” He acknowledged Sinclair with a nod of greeting. “You have news about the trail leading into Hidden Cove for me.”

  “Yes, I have information.” There was something about the way Sinclair spoke that led Ramsey to believe news regarding the Sanctuary intruders was not the only reason Sinclair had sought him out today. “We found a second camping site in an old cave a klick and a half along the coast from the cove.”

  “I’ll send some of my men over to take a look.”

  Sinclair shook his head. “Don’t bother, it floods every high tide. The guy is long gone. The only thing of note we found before the water came in to obliterate any evidence, was this.” Sinclair laid a small plastic bag containing a crumpled cigarette packet on the table.

  “Any idea where this guy is headed? Or where he might be hiding out now?”

  Sinclair shook his head again. “We’re still looking. The bushland is dense and scrubby. We can confirm from the way the man moves around so erratically, that we believe, as David Malone suggested, that the individual we are tracking is highly unpredictable and completely driven.”

  “You guys can really tell that from just studying his trail?” Ramsey was partly sceptical, yet he’d already witnessed so many unexplained phenomena at the Sanctuary.

  “His tread is heavy, he intentionally breaks branches, pulverises flowers. This man has a lot of anger, rage, yet at the same time he is very devious, smart even. The cave was a good temporary hiding place.”

  “A smart angry lunatic with a gun wandering around loose is not good news.” Ramsey gritted out.

  “My men won’t stop looking for him.” Sinclair promised.

  “Your men?”

  “My brothers, cousins, others in the Hidden Cove community. We have as much invested in keeping the Southern Sanctuary safe as anyone else in the district.”

  “That’s good to hear. But if you guys do find this man, then you need to keep your distance, contain, call me, don’t approach.”

  “Of course.” Sinclair’s agreement was too abrupt, given too quickly.

  “Now why don’t I believe you?” Ramsey enquired. “I get you guys like your privacy and are probably used to taking local matters in to your own hands, but the shooting changes things. We need to capture and question this guy. Find out who else is involved. Where they are hiding and why they are after Judge Malone. Vigilante justice won’t get us the answers we need.”

  Sinclair nodded slowly. “We don’t like strangers here period, but yes, I agree, answers would be nice. I’ll instruct my men.”

  Ramsey nodded. “Good.” Silence enveloped them for a minute. “Something else on your mind?”

  Sinclair shifted slightly, Ramsey noted it because it was the first random movement the other man had made since sitting down across from him. For some reason Sinclair was ill at ease or unsure about what he wanted to discuss next. “I understand you’re from Melbourne?”

  Okay, Ramsey had not been expecting a personal question, but still it was hardly a secret. “Born and raised.”

  “As was your father?” Sinclair’s green eyes stared hard as Ramsey nodded assent, as if the question he was asking was far from casual. “What about his father, your grandfather? Do you remember much about him?”

  Ramsey held back a scowl. “Not really. He died a year or so before my mother, when I was three or four. I don’t think he was born in Australia. I don’t know where he came from. My Dad didn’t like to talk about it.”

  “Do you recall his name?”

  “Er, Henry…Harry? What’s with the twenty questions?”

  “Hardison?” Sinclair supplied.

  Ramsey froze. “How did you know that?”

  Sinclair shrugged, a small reluctant smile playing at the edges of his lips. “I believe we’re related… I thought so the first moment I saw you in the woods, you remind me of someone I know.”

  Ramsey instinctively shook his head. No, this wasn’t possible. He was alone in this world. Had been since the moment his father had been hit by that car just before he turned eighteen. No parents, no siblings, no aunts, uncles or cousins… no ties. It was just him. Him and the job. It had been that way… what felt like forever. “I don’t think so.”

  Sinclair didn’t appear fazed by Ramsey’s negative response. “My great-grandfather has requested a meeting with you, after the intruder has been caught and Berry Malone is safe.”

  Ramsey remained still, dwelling on Sinclair’s ridiculous statement. What were the odds of him taking this job at the Southern Sanctuary? Of meeting up with Sinclair, who lived in Hidden Cove and rarely ventured out or welcomed strangers? What were the chances of them being related? Fuck, what were the chances of them even meeting?

  It was just one more coincidence to pile onto a load of pre-existing ones that were threatening to collapse and smother him. It was this fucking town. This district. He hated coincidences with a - rather shoot it and not bother to ask questions later – passion. But still, a man wanders up and claims to be related to him… didn’t make it a fact.

  “Just think about it.” Sinclair contemplated Ramsey for a minute, the two of them sitting there in absolute silence, stillness.

  Strangely, it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, it felt as if the world around them kept moving but that he and Sinclair were watchers… caretakers, and despite the turmoil in his gut there was peace in that knowledge. Sinclair abruptly pushed his chair back, rising to his feet in one quick sudden motion. Startling a woman and her companion who’d been standing in the doorway debating whether to sit outside on the patio or not.

  Sinclair ignored their reaction but something about the way those people had jumped when Sinclair had moved reminded Ramsey of something. His eyes flicked to Sinclair but he’d already disappeared around the corner of the building. Charming fellow. Suddenly it clicked, of course the couple’s reaction was so darn familiar. It was the exact same one he got every time he made a sudden move, as if prior to that moment he was invisible to the human eye.

  Shit… sullen, rarely cracking a smile, big
guy, who can move quickly but had the ability to remain still like a statue? He wasn’t just describing Sinclair… he was describing himself.

  Just what the hell was going on here?

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m not drunk.” Berry ruined her emphatic declaration by following it up with a giggle.

  The carefree unexpected sound made Ramsey smile as he escorted her off the elevator, his arm wrapped gently around her waist. Even with his support, Berry still managed to stumble over her own feet. Causing her to laugh loudly and then hiccup.

  “Whoops.”

  “For…” Ramsey had had enough. The way she was going, tipsy and wearing those shoes she was going to break her neck. Bending at the knees he swooped her up into his arms.

  “Whoa.” Berry gasped in surprise, before looking around in wonderment at her new exalted position in the world. “The air is pretty thin up here. I suppose you’re used to it.”

  “Yeah, I’m used to it.” Ramsey smiled, fumbling with his keys for a moment, enjoying the feel of Berry’s lithe warm body in his arms just a little too much. Get a grip man. Stop mooning over the girl. You’re not even in the safety of the apartment yet.

  His hard won self-control was severely tested as Berry wriggled in his arms. Thankfully at that moment he found the right key.

  Striding across the dark living room he quickly set her down by the sofa. “I’ll get some coffee organised… unless you want to go straight to bed?”

  “It’s not even eight o’clock, Hotshot. Besides, I’m not tired.” She ignored Ramsey as he strode into the kitchen turning on lights. She was restless. Several hours talking, laughing and drinking with her girlfriends had her wired. Goddess, there wasn’t even a television in this place. Then a flicker out the corner of her eye caught her attention. Oooh, the balcony.

  “Berry?” Ramsey sounded exasperated. “Where do you think you’re going? It’s cold out there.” Ramsey chased after her, halting when he spied her getting comfortable on one of the outdoor sofas off to the side, in the process of kicking off her shoes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Movie?” She pointed off down the beach.

  Ramsey turned, right, it was Saturday night, movie night on the beach. When a humongous screen was set up on the sand and the locals bought chairs and blankets to sit on the nearby grass to watch. “You’ll freeze out here.” Ramsey warned.

  “I have my wrap.” Berry pulled her bare feet under her and arranged her bright red wrap so that it covered more of her. “And sitting down here, I can barely feel the breeze.”

  Ramsey continued to stand over her in indecision. There was no way a sniper could take her out on the balcony considering the awkward angle. “There’s no sound.” He tried one last attempt.

  “It’s Rear Window, who needs sound for that?”

  “Fine. Don’t move. I’ll get that coffee.”

  Berry scoffed a half exasperated laugh, half sigh. “Whatever. Just quit it with the looming.”

  Ten minutes later Ramsey found himself seated next to Berry, sipping coffee and watching Rear Window through the clear glass of the balcony railing. Hyper aware of Berry sitting next to him. The smell of her perfume tugging at his senses, their body heat intermingling, even though several inches still separated them. It was a strangely intoxicating experience for him. Just to sit there, next to a beautiful woman on a cool Autumn evening and watch a movie. The feeling of how right this all was and the simplicity of the moment kind of floored him.

  He tried to remember the last time he’d been on a date? Not since he was a teenager. Even now he cringed in memory at the handful of unsuccessful encounters, it hadn’t boded well that his sheer presence seemed to make his dates ridiculously nervous.

  Then in the last decade or so, as an undercover cop, his focus had shifted to the job. No time for dating. Just brief, quick encounters with women who’d revelled in what they perceived as the potential danger in hooking up with a bad boy. But they didn’t want to watch a movie with him, let alone have a conversation. They wanted the fleeting thrill of dangerous sex with an equally dangerous man. Once they had their moment, all too often they scurried off back to their normal sheltered lives, filled with safe, manageable, compatible men. Most of them never even asking him his name.

  Damn, this place and this woman really were doing a mind fuck on him. He thought he’d been happy… satisfied, with his lot in life. He was a cop. He caught the bad guys. He didn’t get attached to people, make friends or put any roots down. He didn’t wish for things he couldn’t have.

  Ramsey bit back a groan as Berry shifted beside him, absently snuggling a little bit closer, her arm brushing his. Fuck, he hadn’t known he was missing out on anything until he met Berry. She made him want… crave more. Not just sex… it was more than that. He liked… no, he loved talking with her; getting her to laugh, bedevilling her and making those eyes of hers flash with fire and emotion. He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him. That she spoke her mind. That she called him Hotshot. That she kept on insisting that he was flirting with her… and damn, if she wasn’t right. He hadn’t realised he was capable of flirting until he met Berry Malone.

  He liked how she tried to lay down the law with him, expecting him to follow. When was the last time someone… anyone, had tried to boss him around? Maybe Mrs Rossum in the fifth grade, just before his growth spurt.

  Absently he watched Jimmy Stewart trying to handle Grace Kelly on the screen. So how should he handle Berry? Could he convince her, despite her current stance on men, to have a short term relationship with him? And if he did, when his six month contract was up, would he be able to walk away from her? Return to the lonely, isolated existence of undercover work? Not a question he thought he’d ever be asking himself six short weeks ago when he’d first taken on the role of Southern Sanctuary Police Chief.

  He thought back to the moment Berry had been shot, ripped out of arms, spinning away and falling to the ground, her blood splattering his face. Not since his dad had died had he felt so angry, so bereft… so very much. Emotions had threatened to overwhelm him. Him? The cool, calm cop. Who never flinched. Never got involved. Never let emotions cloud his judgment.

  Damn, what was he going to do about this… infatuation, was that the right word? Nah, it didn’t feel weighty enough to describe what he felt for Berry. Attraction? Lust, was too cheap…. too fleeting. Admiration, nah, that was too formal.

  Love…? What? Absolutely not… that was way too… too permanent sounding.

  Shit, he didn’t know what he felt for Berry Malone, but he was willing to take her on any terms she was prepared to set. Okay, so now for the hard part, he just needed her to set the terms. Glancing down at her, a rueful smile played across his lips, of course now that he’d finally made a decision she’d fallen asleep on him.

  Here he was, having a personal epiphany and she was fast asleep. Her head resting back against the sofa cushion, which had to be uncomfortable. Carefully he shifted over slightly, his weight causing her head to loll to the side, coming to rest on his shoulder. He held his breath for a moment as she muttered something in her sleep and then turned into him, snuggling even closer. He was probably going to burn in hell for this he decided with a happy grin on his face as the credits began to roll for the next scheduled film. Luckily he liked the heat.

  * * *

  Berry woke with a small groan. The room was full of dark shadows, it was too early to get up she decided. Eyes closed, she wriggled to get comfortable and tried to go back to sleep but several thoughts started pinging around in her head. First and foremost, she couldn’t recall going to bed last night. Her last memory was of… being out on the balcony with Ramsey, watching the seaside movie. Hmmm, and then nothing.

  Instantly her eyes shot open, the bed beside her was empty. Thank the Goddess she hadn’t done anything stupid. She frowned, so how had she gotten to bed last night? And what… quickly she peeked under the covers to see what she was wearing. Oh how embarrassing,
she was in her underwear, dark blue satin tap pants and a matching tightly fitted camisole.

  Urgh, she had a vague hazy memory of Ramsey helping her to her room last night and her… what had she done? Oh no… she’d sent him a taunting smile and unsnapped one thigh high stocking, then the second before shimming out of her dress and flinging it at him before diving under the covers, cackling like a hyena. What an ungrateful wretch she was.

  A sudden gust of wind from outside and the splatter of rain against the glass sliding doors bought her back to the present. She also recalled Ramsey forcing a glass of water and an aspirin down her throat before he let her sleep. Something she had to be thankful for this morning… no strike that, her eyes found the clock. How could it be almost three in the afternoon? She’d practically slept the day away.

  Tossing the blanket back, she strode over to pull back the curtains and stare out at the dark dismal wet Sunday afternoon. The sea was choppy and grey, heavy rain fell in sheets and the beach was eerily empty in all directions. It was tempting to dive back under the covers and huddle there until tomorrow morning when it was time for her to go to work. But she refused to be the type of person who hid their head in the sand, never again. Resolutely she headed for the bathroom. Time to get dressed for the day and face Ramsey Hughes and apologise for her drunken behaviour.

  Berry was damning her sore arm twenty minutes later as she stared at herself in the mirror. Only a large plaster covered her wound now but she still couldn’t lift her arm higher than her shoulder, which meant her mass of annoying hair fell in a tumble of curls down over her shoulders. Hmm, and there was something about her hair down and the outfit she was wearing that bought the term sex kitten to mind.

  Which was ridiculous, talk about over active imagination. It was probably just because the moss green fitted cardigan she’d chosen to wear was cashmere, and looked so very soft. Hmmm, determinedly she buttoned it all the way to the top, then blew out a sigh and undid the top two buttons; she was being silly. It was just a cardigan for Heaven’s sake, and with the fitted dark brown suede trousers and unappealing but decidedly fluffy and warm brown socks she had on her feet, there was no way anyone could accuse her of playing the role of seductress. She had to be imaging things, brooding over nothing, putting off having to face Ramsey. Well, she pulled her shoulders back, she had nothing to be truly sorry for… that she could remember. Damn, better to just issue a blanket apology and get it over with.