To Wrangle A Witch (Southern Sanctuary Book 3) by Jane Cousins Page A

the continuous heavy downfall.  She should have
been out there frolicking through the soggy jungle nightmare but she was
nowhere in sight. 
    A
man’s home is his castle… truer words had never been spoken, so he tuned into
his gut and went with what it was telling him.   “She’s fine.” 
    “Okay,
keep her that way.   I’ll call if there
are any updates.”
    Locke
disconnected the call.  Hmmm, the empty courtyard bothered him for some
reason. Time to find out what was up with his witch.
    He
found her in the living room, scrunched up in a ball on the couch facing the
TV, the remote clutched tightly in her hand.  Every ten seconds she
muttered a soft dissatisfied hiss and stabbed at a button.  Her hair was
back in haphazard bun, more down than up, her face pale, eyes dull and she was
wearing honest to Goddess pink flannel pyjamas decorated with lollipops. 
She was a mess.  And still… still, Goddess help him, he thought she was
the most delectable woman he’d ever seen.  For a brief futile second he
considered retreating back to his office, barring the door, and curling up in a
ball of his own. 
    Serena
glanced up as Locke came to stand in front of her. “You’re blocking the
TV.”  She groused.
    “From
what I can tell you’re not exactly watching anything.  Is this your
exercise for today… channel surfing?”
    “Hah,
funny.”  She leaned slightly to the left, trying to watch around
him.  How dare he interrupt her blue funk.  She was perfectly happy
minding her own business, stewing in her own depression.  Then he had to
come along looking all esquire front cover gorgeous and smelling like chocolate
two weeks into a sugar free diet.
    “You
want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
    “Nope.” 
She leaned even further to the left, angling the remote around him.
    He
dared to huff an amused laugh.  Serena swore that she would ignore
him.  If she didn’t react or respond he’d get bored and go away. 
That was easier said than done.  In the next five minutes Locke bustled
around her like a mother hen.  He covered her with a gorgeous silk
raspberry pink throw, even pausing to tuck the comforter under her bare
feet.  Then he placed a steaming mug of tea on the side table next to her,
the smell of orange and cinnamon rising from it to tease her nostrils. 
Next he planted himself on the sofa next to her, snatching the remote from her
hands.
    “Hey!”
    He
ignored her feeble protests, proceeding to press a rapid number of
buttons.  Seconds later a movie began to play. 
    “I’m
not in the mood to watch a movie.”
    Locke
ignored her, his own eyes fixed on the screen.  “Give it a minute.”
    “Go.
Away.”  She hissed out the words sulkily between gritted teeth.
    “My
house… my TV, my rules.”  Locke never took his eyes off the screen. 
    Issuing
a frustrated sigh Serena followed his gaze, her eyes opening wide in
surprise.  “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers?”
    Locke
shrugged, his eyes never leaving the screen.  “Singing. 
Dancing.  The barn raising fight.  Better than medicine.”
    “I’m
really not in the mood…”
    “Ssshhhh.” 
Locke hushed her out the side of his mouth.  “You’re ruining it.”
    So
just like that Serena found herself snuggled up next to Locke on the couch
watching an old musical as the rain outside continued to sheet down.
    “That
was sneaky.”  Serena eyed Locke ruefully two hours later as the credits
began to roll.
    “And
yet from the colour in your cheeks and the sparkle in your eye I’m pretty sure
it was exactly what you needed.”  Locke muted the TV, turning slightly on
the sofa to face her.
    “Smug
much?”  She accused.
    He
grinned at her, making her tummy flip. 
    “It’s
my burden to be right all the time.  So you want to tell me what had you
kicking the doldrum bucket this morning?”
    Serena
sighed, reaching up to adjust her hair. Urgh she must look a nightmare. 
Would it be too obvious to race off to her