To Shackle a Shrew (Southern Sanctuary Book 7) Page 5

  Things low in Devon’s body tightened, a small flicker of heat licking at her before she firmly, and resolutely, snuffed it out. Uh-uh, no way, no how. She was not going to become enamoured of a slick, shyster Merrow just because the man had a firm ass.

  It meant nothing, it was just a nice butt. Speaking from a clinical perspective she could state categorically that the man had a low fat to muscle ratio, he quite clearly worked out, was healthy… extremely healthy, and he was obviously getting plenty of vitamin D, since he had no visible tan lines. Yes, speaking as a doctor, she could state categorically, Liam Chambers had a really nice ass, pity he was such a big baby as he let out another low, heartfelt, pained groan.

  “What’s wrong?” Damn her doctor training, she should have just walked away.

  “She tried to kill me.” The words were muffled against the pillow but still perfectly audible.

  “Don’t be silly. If Nabha wanted you dead, you’d be dead already.” Determinedly Devon kept her eyes focused on his shoulders… hmmm, nice, muscular but lean. Like those belonging to a mountain climber. With those buns of steel and shoulders, the man could have climbed tiny Mount Wycheproof a hundred times over in one day alone.

  “That woman seriously enjoys inflicting pain.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Devon responded automatically.

  Liam let out a choked muffled laugh. “Seriously? And you’re a doctor? What kind? No, let me guess. You’re a surgeon who enjoys cutting people open and damn the anaesthetic?”

  “No. Ears, Nose and Throat. When I’m not at the hospital here, I have a practise back in Sydney.”

  “Oh, then it must be my lucky day, you can help me out with this itch I have.”

  Devon’s left eyebrow shot up in a flashing imperious arch for a moment as she surveyed his naked backside. “If you think I’m going to touch your ass, you can think again.”

  “What? Why?” Liam levered himself up onto his elbows, issuing another groan.

  Seaweed and blue ointment were caked on his face, but it looked fresh, so Devon could only surmise that Nabha had redressed his wounds sometime recently… pity. No, what? She didn’t mean pity, she meant yeah, she wouldn’t have to touch… treat, she wouldn’t have to treat Liam personally.

  Liam glanced back over his shoulder, noting his exposure. “Whoops.” With no grace he flopped dramatically over onto his back, issuing a hiss from between gritted teeth as he sank back onto the mattress, automatically hauling the twisted sheet upwards so it hid his stirring groin from view. Something about those green flecked brown eyes of hers heated his blood, made him think ridiculously hot thoughts about how the Princess was from India, the land that invented the Karma Sutra. A book that probably had a dozen or so positions a man and a woman could perform given the current sad state of his immobilised lower limbs.

  Whoa, where was a bucket of ice water when you needed one. He guessed the Princess’s cold haughty look would have to do instead. “I was talking about my nose. I have this insane itch.”

  Devon shook her head in disgust, turning to leave.

  “Hey. Where are you going?” Liam was a little bit desperate for entertainment. Nabha had been polite, and attentive to his clinical needs, but she’d hardly been chatty. He was pretty sure the older woman had been a nurse once upon a time, or a prison guard in a Gulag, it was a toss-up. “Aren’t you going to check my fevered brow? Run your soft, yet highly experienced hands over my body? Heal all my new injuries inflicted by your Aunt.”

  “What exactly did Nabha do to have you moaning like a cow in labour?”

  “Please, have you not heard manly expressions of pain before?”

  “Bleating like a pregnant cow.” Devon reiterated, for some reason having to bite her inner cheek to keep from smiling. What was it about this man and his cheeky ways? She could see nothing but his lips and eyes yet he had her reacting like a schoolgirl salivating over her first crush. By the depths, next she’d be simpering and fawning all over the man. You are a Makura Princess, Devon, snap out of it, men are only convenient for procreating and unblocking toilets.

  “All I did was ask for a sponge bath.” Liam elaborated.

  “And Nabha refused to comply?”

  “Oh, no. One moment I’m lying in bed. The next her hair grabs me by the wrists and she’s dunking me in the river…” He gestured at the sliding doors and the water below. “…like I’m a teabag. Before I can catch my breath I’m back in bed and her hair is everywhere, drying me, slapping on blue ointment, clear ointment and then came the seaweed layers.”

  Devon frowned, everything sounded fine so far. “I understand the ointments Nell provided both have a strong numbing agent. After the initial pain of being cleaned I don’t get why you are still whining.”

  “Because…” Liam explained through gritted teeth to keep from yelling. “She conveniently forgot to include breathing holes for me. By Poseidon’s Trident, I swear I saw a beckoning white light.”

  “You sure it wasn’t the burning red eyes of a hellhound come to drag you to the underworld? Besides, she obviously rectified her mistake. Here you are breathing, looking no different than when I left this morning, blue, oozing and covered in seaweed.”

  “I don’t look that bad.” Liam protested. Did he? When Nabha had dunked him in the river, washing away the dried layers of seaweed and disgusting salves, he’d been hit by a thousand lightning bolts of pain. His face, his throat, chest, his legs… he’d been in danger of blacking out. Thank Poseidon that Nabha’s rough handling had kept him so breathless it had prevented him from screaming. Then by the time he’d gotten his breath back, he was once more covered in the blissfully numbing ointments that sank into his skin and took all the pain away. By the time he’d recovered enough to comment, he’d been fighting for his life in a dark seaweed cocoon.

  “How you look is irrelevant. The question is, are you in any pain right at this moment?”

  “Well, no.”

  “I rest my case. Now, I’m going for a swim and then I’m going to have dinner. I’m sure Nabha made plenty, so if you want to join me, be out on the deck in half an hour.”

  “Um…?” Liam gestured at his bedridden state.

  Devon huffed out a small put upon sigh. Two of her curls whipping out to lift and place the wheelchair she’d appropriated from the hospital next to the bed. “I’m assuming that those arms of yours aren’t painted on. Like I said, you have half an hour.”

  Exiting before he had a chance to make any more annoying comments, Devon headed down the hallway to her own bedroom. Vaguely shocked to realise that for some reason she was now thinking about Liam’s arms. Tanned, muscular, they looked strong, as if he partook of regular strenuous exercise. What would it feel like to be bracketed by those arms? Held down? At his mercy? What… had she been exposed to an experimental drug today at work? First the man’s butt. Then his shoulders. Now his arms. Liam Chambers could be absolutely hideous underneath all that seaweed and blue gunk. Though, he was mildly amusing…. Ugh, she needed to swim and clear her head of all these unwanted, insidious thoughts.

  * * *

  Even though his face was numb Liam was pretty sure he was smiling as Devon left the room. Damn, the woman was imperious, haughty and downright hard… which for some reason made him correspondingly hard.

  He eyed the tented sheet, down boy, if Devon caught sight of his obvious arousal around her she might bring out those lethal nails of hers or bind him to the bed with her hair… now how was that a helpful thought? His cock pulsed at the idea of being tied up by Devon, at the idea of those soft curls sliding over his skin, whipping him softly, twining over and around his cock… squeezing… bloody hell, if he kept this up he’d be messing up the sheets. And wouldn’t that be a wonderful conversation to have with Nabha in the morning. That thought alone was enough to wilt his arousal.

  Sighing, he turned to contemplate the slow moving river outside. The tide was turning, the levels on the rise, the scent of seawater thicker in the air. It
really was a beautiful spot, peaceful, with only the occasional passing boat to disturb the tranquility. Out over the river, movement caught his eye, Devon sashaying down the narrow dock. He felt light headed as once more all the blood in his body rushed to raise the sheet high in clear approval.

  Fuck, was she naked? It was hard to tell, with her hair streaming down her back, curling around her butt and teasing the back of her slender toned thighs. Those long, lean, dark coffee coloured legs of hers moving confidently across the planks, her hair parting and undulating to reveal softly curved twitching hips, a tiny waist and toned arms. Liam had to bite down on his tongue to hold back another moan passing from his lips, pain of a different kind wracking his body.

  Bloody Hell, the woman was the very devil. Did she know he was watching? Probably. Did she know how much she affected him? Probably. Did she care? Probably not.

  Fuck. That just made him want her more.

  As she reached the very end of the dock Devon lifted her flawless lithe arms high, revealing the fact she was wearing skimpy olive green bikini bottoms that hugged her small ripe peach-shaped ass.

  It was official, the Princess was vicious… fuck, he might just be falling in love.

  He was torn. Lie back and find relief with his left hand and deal with Nabha’s knowing looks tomorrow, or, if he hurried, haul his ass out of bed and out onto the deck to have a front row centre position when Devon finished swimming and left the water.

  Eight minutes later, breath still coming in harsh painful gasps, his arms shaking, his seaweed plastered lower legs firing protest twinges, Liam managed to manoeuvre his wheelchair out on to the large square deck off the living room. Bringing his chair alongside the outdoor table he sought desperately to calm his breathing and try and look casual. No way did he want Princess Devon to know that he’d gone to any extra effort just so he could catch a glimpse of her in a skimpy bikini.

  Distracted, he reached up to run his fingers through his hair, yuk, he’d forgotten the blue gunk, his fingers coming away sticky and stained. Shit, how bad did he look? Turning he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass doors behind him. Poseidon’s Trident, he looked like a cross between the cookie monster and Sigmund the sea monster. He began to laugh at what a ridiculous sight he made. Thank the seas he wasn’t vain

  If he’d stumbled upon something that looked like him in the ocean he would have beaten it to death first and asked questions later.

  Chapter Four

  Devon floated on the river surface. Her general frustrations and anger at her stubborn patients and annoying whiney colleagues, along with her confusion regarding her reaction to Liam Chambers, melting away as the water caressed her bare skin and her hair drifted around her in a dark cloud, siphoning off nutrients from the river water.

  As much as she disliked being trapped in the Southern Sanctuary, she had to reluctantly admit that her rental house on stilts by the river was a little slice of pure heaven.

  What she loved most about it was the sheer quiet. Sure, the odd fishing boat, small yacht or cruiser puttered past occasionally, either headed out to sea or up river, to the homes similar to her own located around a bend and out of sight. But the river craft sailing past just added ambience as far as she was concerned.

  Which was why the sound of deep male laughter nearby had her jerking in surprise and swallowing a mouth full of water unintentionally. Spluttering a little she trod water, casting a glare back over her shoulder in the direction of her house.

  Trust a Merrow to ruin everything.

  By Yami, just who was he laughing at? Her? Devon’s shoulder and neck instantly stiffened with tension. Her hair snapping and dancing over the surface of the river like water snakes attacking invisible prey.

  Diving under water she sank to the bottom of the sandy river, trying to release the sudden bout of frustration and anger that seized her. She couldn’t kill him. Too many people knew he was here. Nell was even talking about paying a house call tomorrow to check on his injuries. Hmmm, but accidents did happen though… oh yes, happy thoughts, suddenly she was feeling better. Kicking off the bottom she surfaced near the deck.

  “Something funny?” She eyed him through the wooden slats of the railing.

  “Me.”

  Of all the things she thought the Merrow would say, that hadn’t been on the list.

  Liam watched one of Devon’s fine dark eyebrows arch upwards for a moment. Damn, the woman was beautiful when she was wet, droplets of water clinging all too enticingly to her regally slender neck and shoulders. “I just caught a glimpse of myself in the glass.” He elaborated. “My first thought was Cookie Monster meets seaweed creature.”

  Devon’s mouth twitched slightly before resettling into a flat line. “I always think Smurf when I look at you.”

  Liam laughed, flashing white teeth for a moment. “Well, I think we can definitely agree I’m blue.”

  Devon swam over to the dock, using the wooden ladder to haul herself out of the water. For a moment she stood there, letting her hair have one more sip before pushing slightly with her power, instantly she was dry. Long glossy curls drifted down past her waist, caressing her skin gently in thanks.

  Releasing a deep breath, Devon gave the river one last look before turning to stride along the jutting dock towards the house. Absently patting a curl that shot out to scoop up the green halter necked dress she’d left hanging over a convenient post. Shimmying into the dress, she realised she’d forgotten to bring out shoes. Oh well, never mind. It was her house. Padding across the sun warmed wood of the deck she leant back against the rail across from Liam.

  “You okay there, Blue?” She noted the way his fingers were gripping the arms of his wheelchair.

  Liam opened his mouth, attempted to speak, cleared his throat and tried again. “I don’t suppose you have anything to drink around here? I’d kill for a beer.”

  “Probably not beer, but I’m sure I have something.” Devon moved towards a door off to the side of the deck that Liam hadn’t previously noticed, he realised it led directly into the kitchen.

  Liam was glad for a moment to himself, hurriedly he re-arranged the sheet on his lap to hide the fact that the sight of Devon rising from the river, dripping wet in her tiny olive green bikini, had been way more than he had bargained for.

  Those long, toned legs of hers, that narrow waist and hips, the bikini barely holding in those amazing perky full breasts. And the flirty little dress she pulled on wasn’t much better, the hemline skimming high on her thighs and the front dipping so low that he still caught glimpses of her bikini top underneath. But it wasn’t just the way she looked that gripped his attention, it was the way she moved. With determination and confidence. A boldness that he couldn’t help but find attractive. What would the woman be like in bed? He doubted she’d be shy. It would be a battle of wills he was sure.

  “Here.”

  Liam eyed the glass Devon had placed on the table in front of him. “That’s purple.” He noted with envy her glass of white wine, then resumed eyeing his own drink with instant distrust and suspicion.

  Devon unloaded several plates from the tray she’d bought out before taking a seat across from him. From a nice safe distance she too studied the liquid. “Yes, it’s definitely purple.” She took a sip from her own glass, savouring the wine notes of apple, citrus and sun ripened grapes. “Nell left it for you. Said it would soothe and numb your throat, and trust me, if you are going to eat anything Nabha made, you’re are going to want to drink that… stuff.”

  “But.” Liam picked up the glass looking closely at the contents, it looked more like paste than liquid. “I really would prefer a beer.”

  Devon shook her head before grabbing a spoon to start loading her plate down with the spicy curry and condiments that Nabha had made. “No alcohol for you. Those burns of yours have left you severely dehydrated. I’ve never the seen the like of it before in one of our kind.”

  “Is that why I’m healing so slowly?” Liam gave th
e drink a tentative careful sniff. “My legs should have mended by now.”

  Devon nodded. “I can only take an educated guess. I’ve never had to heal a burn before, have you?”

  “No.” Liam shook his head. With his ability to call water… to be water, fire had never proven a problem for him in the past.

  “I think the trauma to your system has overtaxed your innate healing abilities. That’s why your legs are taking so long and why your burns are still…”

  Liam locked gazes with her, aquamarine meeting green flecked brown. “Are you trying to tell me that I won’t be able to heal the burns completely? That there will be scarring?”

  Devon shrugged slim shoulders. “Nell’s the magical healer, she’s the one you need to ask… but, I’ve never seen one of our kind with burns such as the ones you sustained.”

  Liam let out a slow deep breath, a smile suddenly flashing between the layers of seaweed wrapped around the lower part of his face. “I suppose I should count myself lucky I’m alive then. You know what the ancient Indians would have said about you saving my life?”

  “What?” Devon enquired, suspicion lacing her tone as she tried some of Nabha’s curry, whoa, it was spicy.

  “I’m your responsibility now.”

  Devon coughed, heat spiked through her. She decided to blame the curry, even though the heat was centred suspiciously low in her body. “I don’t think so. I don’t even do house plants. And when I was little I had a goldfish that followed me around that I hated so much I sent it up someone’s sewage pipe.”

  Liam laughed long and loud. “Classic, I bet there was a really confused person somewhere wondering how and why a goldfish suddenly appeared in their toilet bowl.”

  Devon shovelled more food into her mouth, fighting the urge to join him laughing. “Yes, unfortunately you are way too large to flush… unless I cut you up into tiny pieces first.”