To Shackle a Shrew (Southern Sanctuary Book 7) Read online

Liam frantically looked over at Devon. “A little help here.” He managed to request between forcibly pursed lips.

  Devon waited a beat and then another, served the man right. Sighing, she grabbed Nabha by the elbow. “Come on Nabha, let’s get some fresh air, Adalard should be here any moment.”

  Nabha reluctantly released Liam’s face, staring at her blue stained fingers for a moment in confusion before reaching over to wipe her hand clean on Liam’s bare shoulder. “Hmmm, hard.”

  Rivers and Lakes, Devon yanked her Aunt away. Glaring at Liam she herded her Great-Great-Aunt out of the kitchen. “I’ll deal with you when I get back.”

  Liam watched them depart, quickly grabbing his crutch, he had five minutes, ten at the most, to save this situation or he had the distinct impression he’d be out on his ear this very evening.

  Eight minutes later he was seated at the long dining room table… waiting. The table was set, the wine was poured, dinner was plated and served.

  He looked up at the sound of Devon’s heels clicking on the hardwood floors approaching. Damn, the woman was gorgeous. She could rock a bikini or a business suit. Tonight she had on a light weight fitted raspberry coloured jacket and a matching skirt that both seemed to reveal and conceal those long toned brown legs of hers. She looked dynamic and professional, even with the angry green-flecked flash in her brown eyes and her lips compressed together so tightly.

  He meant to go on the attack, smother her with charm, but Devon hit first, reaching back as she walked into the living room yanking out the clips holding her hair up in a loose chignon. As it tumbled loose down around her shoulders, all the blood in his body raced south… deserter.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing?” Devon stormed towards him.

  “Ah…” Vowels, consonants, if only he could put them together to form words.

  “And what’s all this?” Devon waved her hand.

  Come on man, get your head in the game, so she fired the first shot, if you don’t parry back, this battle will be over before you know it. “Dinner, I thought you deserved some pampering after a hard day at work.”

  Devon was bought up short. Taking a few seconds to take in the wine, the flickering candlelight and the plates piled high with salad, fish and a corn and tomato salsa. “You did this?” It came out part accusation, part disbelief.

  “I did. Now sit down Princess, take a load off and tell me all about your day.”

  Devon told herself the reason she sat was because she was hungry and everything smelled too good to pass up.

  “And have some wine.”

  “I’m no lightweight like my Aunt.”

  Liam flashed her an easy smile before picking up his knife and fork. “I should hope not, where would be the fun in that? Well, dig in. You’ve had a long day, you must be hungry.” He glanced over at the darkened windows, all currently open to allow the cool night breeze to blow in off the river.

  “You really made this?” Devon scooped up some fish and salsa and took a bite. “Hmmm, it’s good.”

  “Thankyou… so how was your day?”

  “Excuse me?” Devon picked up her glass and took a sip.

  “Your day? How did the doctoring go?”

  Devon rolled her eyes. “We’re doing the polite conversation thing?”

  “Think of it as the price of having dinner.”

  Devon sighed. “It went fine. Same old - same old. Annoying patients and whiney doctors.”

  “Why do you put up with them? I would have thought a pampered royal Princess would have chosen a more… cushy career.”

  Devon shrugged. “The money is good and I get to boss people around. I have slight dictator tendencies so it was either become a doctor or join the military.”

  Liam coughed. “The military?” No way should this woman ever be allowed near firearms, not with her short fuse.

  “I looked into it but I got the distinct impression that the armed forces would do their level best to try and beat my tyrant tendencies out of me.”

  Liam chuffed a laugh. “You’re probably right. So I’m guessing the white coat allows you to indulge your mini-despot ways, patients in awe, colleagues cowering and fearful of your wrath.” He chased a tomato around his plate. “In effect, you’ve created your own mini-court you realise… answerable to no one.”

  “I wish.” Devon looked pained for a moment. “I can deal with department heads and the administrators but it’s the nurses that have me on the ropes. I’m not so power hungry that I’m stupid enough to upset them. Trust me, I thought my family were vindictive but there’s no one scarier than a nurse hell bent upon revenge. I learnt that lesson my first year of residency… working the night shift and being woken every half hour is cruel and unusual punishment. It took me six months of grovelling and fetching coffee before I was allowed a full night’s sleep.”

  Devon tried the salad, hmm, nice dressing, the flavours both sweet and savoury. No way did Nabha help this man cook, not with her Aunt’s love of all things tear-inducing hot and spicy.

  “What do you think?” Liam found himself enjoying watching her eat.

  “Good. What about you? From your lack of seaweed and the crutches I’m assuming Nell stopped by to check on you.”

  Liam nodded. “Legs are still sore but I was glad to say goodbye to the wheelchair.”

  “And the burns?” Devon studied the glistening layers of blue goo that had been lathered over his face, throat and upper chest.

  “Nell, with the aid of her magical ointment has promised me a miraculous recovery. I should be returning to my normal hue any day now. Until then though, you wouldn’t seriously kick a man out whilst he was feeling blue, would you?”

  Devon issued a soft exasperated sigh. “Since you’ve somehow managed to worm your way into Nabha’s good books, there’s no point in asking me that question.”

  “Now don’t be like that, Princess. Besides, it’s not like I can go anywhere until you and I have our mandated official date, can I?”

  “Oh, don’t let that stop you. We’ve had our date.” Devon pushed her empty plate away.

  Liam’s blue coated eyebrows shot upwards for a moment. “Excuse me? Where was I?”

  Devon shrugged, the left corner of her mouth tilting upwards. “Sleeping for most of it.”

  “Sleeping? I was sleeping?”

  “Oh, and drooling. There was definitely some drooling going on. I have a picture on my phone if you want to see.”

  Liam frowned. “We did not…” Fragmented hazy memoires suddenly assailed him…. It had been a dream, hadn’t it? A large empty bar, with hardwood floors, red brick walls and a long mahogany bar, behind which stood two golden skinned dark haired men, cleaning glasses.

  The hot doctor had been sitting across the table from him wearing an almost see-through gold blouse. Her long dark hair spilling down over one shoulder, her eyes focused on the glass of wine in her hands. For a moment he thought he caught a flicker of weariness in those green flecked dark depths but he must have been imagining things – this was supposed to be a hot sexy dream, probably what he saw was pure and simple lust for his hot body. Except in the hazy dream his body had felt so weird. His legs ached and his face and chest had felt weirdly numb.

  “That wasn’t a dream?”

  Devon shook her head. “No, it happened.”

  “I was unconscious!” Liam was surprised to find anger beginning to simmer in his gut. Which was weird, he should be admiring her tactics, they were sneaky and worthy of any Merrow.

  “Technically you were fading in and out.” Devon defended.

  Liam shook his head. “It doesn’t count.”

  “Of course it counts. I followed the rules.”

  “Rules? There are rules? Yours?”

  “No, my match maker’s.”

  “The woman who sent the invitation?”

  “Yes, and you should have received a copy of the rules.”

  “Oh yes, ninety minutes, I have to pay… and there has to be
small talk. Ah-hah, we didn’t make any small talk. I’m calling re-match.”

  “Yes we did. Whilst you drooled, I talked about the weather and then recounted the time I had to remove thirteen open safety-pins from a patient’s throat… I could tell you were enthralled by how still you were.”

  There was a sparkle in Devon’s eyes now, the woman was not only messing with him, she was clearly laughing at him.

  “Small talk requires two participants.”

  “Oh, don’t you remember?” Devon took a large sip of wine. “You woke up enough at one stage to ask me what the hell was going on… though your language was a lot… coarser, than that. I threatened to dump you on the nearest beach if you didn’t calm down. You faded out for a moment or two, mumbled something about being hot and doctors, then you told me I was pretty. I hope you have enough on your credit card to cover our bill. I paid for the ambulance attendants’ meals, so there’s no need to worry about that. We had to drive past the bar on the way here anyway. It just seemed expedient to get the date over and done with. Besides, I was hungry.”

  “Expedient?” Liam smiled and shook his head. “You really are a piece of work, Princess.”

  “I’m on a timetable Smurf boy, can you blame me? I had no idea how long it would take for you to recover. If it’s any consolation, despite you sleeping through most of it and the unsightly drooling, it’s still one of my top two dates so far.” She smiled at the look of sheer disbelief he sent her. “Blame your brothers and their… uniqueness.”

  “Uniqueness?” Liam queried, though his thought processes were momentarily stuck in neutral. The Princess had smiled… and seriously, what a smile. There was something indolent… sexy, about the way she went about it. Thank Poseidon he was wearing jeans.

  “Yami, the lengths those boys are willing to go in order to prove to me how incredibly unworthy they are to be my husband has been scary in the extreme.”

  Liam chuffed a laugh. “We are our father’s sons. Still, I’m afraid I’m going to have to call our date a foul and demand a re-match.” Liam told himself the reason he was pushing this point was to protect Devon. She hadn’t taken the news that someone was out to kill her seriously, he needed an excuse to stay close.

  Devon shook her head in clear disagreement at the idea.

  “Nu-huh, before you come up with an array of protests, let me just ask one question.” Liam leaned across to re-fill her wine glass and then his own. “If I was to contact this match maker of yours and provide the circumstances of our supposed date, just whose side would she support?”

  Devon frowned, damn, he’d effectively backed her into a corner. “What about tonight?” Inspiration hit. “We shared a meal, small talk, the whole she-bang.”

  Liam smiled. “I may have prepared the meal Princess, but I didn’t pay for it, you did, since everything I used to prepare tonight’s meal came out of your fridge.”

  Devon huffed an exasperated sigh. The man was stubborn and difficult, wanting his own way just for the hell of it she decided. Whoa, how sneaky was this Merrow. Instead of going the wham bam - dog and pony show - of a single date to prove how ineligible he was, Liam intended to grind her down with his annoying presence long-term. A-hah, she was on to his scheme now.

  “I’m afraid the window of opportunity for us to have a date has closed. If I ever hope to get back to civilisation I need to stick to a rigid timetable. Today’s Thursday and my next date is scheduled for Saturday lunchtime. Please, for the sake of formality, even though we haven’t, can we say we did?”

  “So tomorrow night it is, date night.” Liam announced cheerfully.

  “Not possible, I have a prior engagement already, a charity thing, oh, which reminds me, I need to ask Nabha if she can sit with you tomorrow night.”

  Liam found it mildly frustrating that Devon continued to see him as an invalid. “I doubt it, she mentioned earlier that she and her husband are going to a champagne and chocolate party tomorrow night, I’m assuming it’s the same event. Hey, problem solved, we’ll go together.” That way he could stick to Devon and make sure nothing happened to her.

  “No. We will not, look-”

  Liam interrupted her. “Do you have the number of the match maker on you? If not, I think I might have it in my wallet.”

  Devon’s mouth slammed shut. Did she really want to deal with Alma Richart again? Look what happened at their last encounter, she’d emerged as a resident of the Southern Sanctuary and been lumbered with a time sucking, high maintenance, dating schedule. Yami knows what Alma might do if she thought Devon was shirking her rules. At the very best she might take Devon’s side, at the very worst she might declare the progress she’d made null and insist she start again, the horror.

  Liam could tell Devon’s internal debate was a fierce one by the way her teeth were grinding together. Lovely, it was just a date, at a charity event, what was her problem? Did she think he’d embarrass her? “It will be fine, Devon. I promised not to fall asleep or drool.”

  Devon’s dark eyes narrowed. “But you’ll still be you.”

  “Oh, now you’re just being contrary for the sake of it. You know you think I’m funny and charming. And let me tell you, when I’m fully conscious, I give a surprisingly good date. Why, I’ve been told by a bevy of women that I’m irresistible.”

  Devon’s eyes only narrowed further, every word out of his mouth only worried her more. Charming? Delightful? Irresistible? She needed to remember that was only the surface. Merrow, no fixed address, no permanent signs of employment, annoying, cheerful… Grrr.

  She needed to look on the bright side. Liam Chambers may very well embarrass the hell out her in public, but big deal, it’s not like anyone attending the party tomorrow night who witnessed the dating disaster mattered to her. After this whole match making deal was over she would never have to speak to any of these self-proclaimed tenuous family members again.

  What happened in the Southern Sanctuary, would thankfully stay in the Southern Sanctuary.

  Chapter Six

  “Okay, I lied.” Liam’s eyes travelled slowly down Devon’s body encased in a sinfully short bronze coloured dress. “There might be a little drooling on my part this evening.”

  Devon bit the inside of her lip, determined to keep her expression stoic. This was Liam Chambers? This… this… Sweet Yami, this was what the layers of blue salve had been hiding? Speak, before the man grows suspicious and realises how affected she was at the sight of him sans blue goo.

  “Good evening. Sorry I’m late.”

  That’s right, perfect, keep it mundane Devon, don’t stare, concentrate instead on the breathtaking starry night sky overhead and all the pretty decorations, the flowers and all the twinkling fairy lights. Not to mention the large star shaped lights hovering above the town square, giving off a soft glow as well as radiating a gentle heat. Magic had to be holding them in place somehow, very clever idea. And look at the jazz band set up on the ornately decorated gazebo.

  Whatever you do, don’t look at Liam Chambers.

  “Nabha and her husband seemed happy enough to swing by to pick me up. Everything okay at work?”

  “Hmmm? Oh, yes, fine, just busy.” It was seriously shocking how well the locals scrubbed up. And the clothes, was that a Dior cocktail frock from the current season? A waiter walked past, one of Devon’s curls snapping out to scoop up a glass of champagne and bring it to her.

  “Are you going to look at me anytime soon Devon?”

  “What?” She made the mistake of meeting his gaze and then couldn’t look away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just admiring all the effort Gigi has put in to this event. The square looks lovely, and she’d have to be pleased by the turn out.”

  “Sure.” He was grinning at her now. “You okay Princess, you seem a little… flustered?”

  Devon’s eyes narrowed, flustered? Makura Princesses did not do flustered. They went on the offensive is what they did. “Please tell me you didn’t steal those clot
hes.” It was as good as excuse as any to tear her gaze from his face… uh-oh, on second thoughts, probably not the smartest move she could make as her gaze skimmed down his body. And what a body it was. The man had been half naked since the moment she’d laid eyes on him, yet somehow seeing him fully clothed like this was sexier.

  With clothes on he seemed taller, or maybe that was just because for the first time he was standing up straight, no sign of a wheelchair or crutches in sight. He had to be 6.1ft at least. The dark grey trousers and lighter grey shirt fit almost too well to his lean muscular frame.

  Liam chuffed a laugh. “These are my date clothes, I had them in my saddlebags.”

  Yami, Devon, how long have you been staring at the man’s chest? Abruptly she looked up. Only to meet his twinkling aquamarine gaze. Knocking back half the contents of her champagne glass in one go Devon gave up the struggle and really looked at him. The devilish grin with the slightest hint of a dimple in one tanned cheek, the strong chin, the high cheekbones, the too long dark eyelashes and the mop of golden blonde hair, cut short at the sides but long on top, falling down across his forehead to tickle his dark eyelashes.

  He was handsome, but that wasn’t what had her eyes suddenly widening. “How old are you?”

  That devilish grin was back, the dimple creasing his cheek. “Don’t worry Princess, I’m twenty-seven. I might be the youngest but you’re not robbing the cradle.”

  Devon polished off what was left in her glass. Five years wasn’t a huge age gap for normal couples, but she could just imagine the gossip that would start if she were to introduce Liam to her colleagues and acquaintances back in Sydney. She’d instantly be labelled a Cougar.

  Hold on, what was she thinking? She was never going to introduce Liam to anyone as her anything. He was completely an utterly unsuitable as husband material. And despite his silly claim that he wanted to protect her from some nefarious mythical threat, the man was walking and no longer blue, there was absolutely no reason for him to hang around the Sanctuary any longer. After tonight, it would be highly unlikely she would ever see Liam Chambers again, except at family events perhaps, once she was married to one of his brothers.