Trust Me (Sanctuary Lake Book 1)

by Lori Whyte

  Her heart fluttered in her chest like a leaf caught in the tempest of the wind outside in the storm. It banged and quivered against her ribs as her gaze drifted down the angular features of his face. Nothing about Mason was classically handsome, not his brown eyes, which were so dark they were almost black, not his chiseled cheeks and jaw that were almost too sharp, and definitely not his crooked nose that suggested he'd had it broken more than once in his life.

  But she couldn't imagine a better looking man.

  He exuded power and confidence as he held her gaze with an intensity that made her toes curl. Her perusal of his face ended on his lips. They were so close… She had dreamed about kissing those lips since her fourteenth birthday.

  Then his mouth met hers.

  His kiss danced across her mouth, teasing awake every nerve in her body. His woodsy scent enveloped her. She inhaled as deeply as she could through the kiss to absorb more of it.

  Yes. Please.

  Instinct collided with sensation. She arched closer, bridging the small gap between their bodies until her soft curves smashed against his long hard lines.

  He growled against her in response. It was a primitive sound that sent delicious shockwaves over her. He tangled his fingers with hers and then tucked their joined hands behind her back. And in the next moment, he had walked her back, not stopping until her shoulder blades met the firm cool plane of the wall beside the window.

  He pressed against her, as if to learn the shape of her with his own body.

  Her heart thundered in her ears.

  He had her pinned to the wall. At his mercy. And she loved it.

  With her free hand, she grabbed his shirt to tug him closer still. She revelled in his obvious arousal against her lower stomach. She wanted to feel more of it. All of him. Bare. Skin to skin.

  She wanted him.

  She always had.

  His tongue lashed into her, filling her before slipping out, only to dip back inside again. The erotic rhythm sent ripples of need over her. He tasted of the Scotch they'd been drinking earlier. Peat. Spicy. With a bit of heat.

  Mason moved his hand from her neck to slip down her body until it landed on her hip. His fingers gripped the soft swell of her flesh and held her tight against him. A low moan vibrated out from the back of her throat.

  He froze at the sound.

  Then he pulled back abruptly to stare into her eyes. His hot panting breaths fanned her wet lips. She opened her mouth to speak, but she didn't know what to say. She wanted to rip off his clothing and drag him to her bedroom but the look in his eyes said that wasn't going to happen.

  "Anna… beautiful Anna," he whispered. Her heart swelled at the sound of longing in his voice. He pressed his forehead against hers.

  "I shouldn't have done that," he said, "but even now I can't bring myself to stop touching you."

  Something inside her twisted at his words. No. Kissing wasn't what either of them should be doing. Not with one another.

  But it felt so good.

  "Mason…" His name on her lips sounded like a plea. She wanted this, every bit as much as he obviously did. Couldn't he tell?

  And then he pulled away completely. Her body mourned the loss.

  How was she ever going to remember that Mason wasn't the man for her when he kissed her like that?

  SEVEN

  The early morning sunlight glinted on the broken windshield of Anna's truck. She wasn't ready for so much brightness… not after the sleepless night she'd endured. So she certainly wasn't ready for Mason's plan.

  She eyed him with disbelief.

  The decision to look at Viv's car had sounded reasonable half an hour ago when they'd left the inn, but that was before they found the compound locked with no one around. And seeing the vehicle, all smashed and scraped with its shattered jagged windows, a few metres inside the chain-link enclosure made her question the plan even more.

  That was where Viv had died.

  Not at this precise location… but in that car. That broken and destroyed car.

  And now Mason was determined to get a closer look. He talked about jumping the fence like it was nothing out of the ordinary, but she couldn't imagine him in his fancy suits doing this very often. But then again, he was a Randall.

  "I'm not breaking into the compound." Her breakfast rolled and shuddered in her stomach. She swallowed, hoping it'd settle, and rubbed her hands on her pants.

  "We are here; we might as well take a look around," he said as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

  But it wasn't reasonable at all.

  She could just imagine the officers from Sanctuary Lake's local RCMP detachment finding them inside the compound. Razor wire, electrical currents, or things of that nature were missing… but the enclosure was still locked and wrapped in chain-link. It didn't matter that the wires that had once held the No Trespassing sign in place had failed, leaving only rusted and broken coils on the chain-link. Nor did it matter that the sign was faceup on the ground, covered in mud…

  She could say she hadn't seen it, but that would be a lie and she hated lying.

  "It's just a chain-link fence," he said, "and there is nothing worth stealing here anyway. I mean, look in there… Most of these cars are only good as scrap."

  That was all well and good, except she wasn't the kind of person who climbed fences. Not even in high school when people were supposed to do stupid and reckless things. She leaned back in her seat and scanned the place again. Mason was right. There wasn't much to protect in there. The fence seemed more of a formality than an actual deterrent.

  And she did want to find out what happened to Viv.

  They could just wait. Make some calls. Get access through proper channels.

  But no one was at their phones this morning. Not even her brother Ryan, who worked for the local tow truck business with the contract to bring vehicles here. He would have a key. Why wasn't he answering?

  She checked her phone again, just in case he'd responded in the last five seconds, but he hadn't. She frowned and eyed the stupid fence. All she had to do was get over it. Then they might find an answer… and then Mason would leave…

  And the sooner she got him out of the apartment, the better.

  Having him under the same roof last night had been torturous. Every little sound and every tick of her clock had her awake and listening for him. Was he up? Was he moving around? Did he need a glass of water? Was he sleeping in the nude?

  It was exhausting.

  He, on the other hand, looked like he’d had a perfectly restful sleep, despite the fact that he was in the room he had shared with his brothers all those years ago. Sure, it'd changed a lot since then, but she remembered how it had looked, all those boys in that one small space with bunk beds lining the walls like a work camp.

  But then again, from what Anna could tell, that was George and Edna's approach to adoption.

  Their only biological child was Viv and she was also the only one with her own room. And it was the same one that still housed her clothes, her bed and everything else. Anna was sleeping in the master bedroom, which was also the largest. There were so many times when she'd felt guilty about that, but Viv had insisted.

  In retrospect, it made sense. Anna didn't have all the baggage that Viv and her brothers did. Where the Randalls' lives had been filled with abuse and work, Anna's had at least involved love. She'd worked from a young age too, but by choice. She'd wanted to do it… wanted to help her mom pay the bills. Ryan had too.

  Which meant there hadn't been time for climbing big fences.

  She eyed the chain-link again. If she knew she could get inside with Ryan, would it be so horrible if she went ahead on her own?

  "Fine," she said, "let's get this over with."

  She grabbed the door handle and pushed it open before she could change her mind. Mason grinned and jumped out to join her. Oh, what that grin did to his face… That should be illegal. His smiles shouldn't have any effect on her. She had neve
r noticed the smiles of any of the other brothers. But his? It made her want to make him smile over and over again.

  Yep, Mason was dangerous freaking territory.

  "Start to climb up," he said, "I'll spot you."

  "Spot me?"

  "Are you happy that you wore jeans today?"

  If she'd worn a skirt, at least she'd have an excuse for not doing this. She put her foot into one of the holes in the wire mesh, grabbed the fence and then started climbing the thing. She was terrible with measurements, but it stood at least eight or ten feet high.

  She was about three feet off the ground when she realized she didn't know how she was going to swing her leg over the top when she got there. She paused.

  "It's okay," he said. "I've got you."

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when she registered the firm pressure of Mason's hands on her ass. She froze.

  Mason Randall had his hands. On. Her. Ass.

  She had to say that again to herself, silently of course, but she couldn't believe it. And then she was being lifted. All she could do was hang on and try not to fall on top of him. God. That would be awful.

  Or would it?

  Having Mason under her, in any way, wouldn't be entirely a bad thing. But it would be even better if he was over her… and they were on a mattress… a big king-sized one… and his weight was pinning her down…

  "Put your leg over now," he said. "Don't worry. I won't let you fall. Just one leg over… That's it. And the other. Now it's the easy part. Just drop down."

  She landed with a thud. The ground was still soft and mushy from the rain the night before.

  Wow. She'd just broken into a secure compound—one that the police used. She needed to focus so they could get out of here ASAP, but all her brain was lingering on the sensation of Mason's hands on her body. He was up and over the fence before she had fully regained her balance. He flipped over it with an athleticism that surprised her. Wasn't he an office guy? Office guys weren't supposed to move like that.

  But of course he never did follow the rules.

  "And then we get to do this again when we leave," he said. A grin played at his mouth as he let his gaze slide down her body to her backside and then back up again, before he winked at her.

  Had he liked having his hands on her body?

  If only she could believe that were true. He'd avoided her after that kiss last night, so that was a pretty clear message. One she could trust a lot more than a grin…

  Spending time with him was wreaking havoc on her common sense. She had crushed on him most of her life and all of this one-on-one time was bringing everything back.

  But he would be leaving soon and she wasn't ready to nurse a broken heart. Not without Viv's shoulder to cry on. She was susceptible to Mason's charms when he was being all indifferent, but when he flirted with her? Yikes. She was doomed.

  She needed to get his attention off her and onto something else.

  "That's her car," Anna said, pointing to the ruined silver sedan a few paces away.

  The grin faded from his face as he nodded and moved toward the vehicle. It looked even worse close up. She tried not to look at the blood… or the way the driver's seat door was wrenched open at an odd angle. She'd known they'd used a machine to get Viv out. It shouldn't have been a surprise.

  But if the car looked like this… what had Viv looked like?

  Mason walked around the vehicle in silence. Anna clasped her hands together and went in the opposite direction. He was on the other side of the car when she heard him grunt. She looked up in time to see him bending down.

  "What did you find?"

  "Come here. Look at this."

  She rounded the car to where he was kneeling. He rubbed his finger over a smear of orange paint that marred the silver finish. The mark was on the driver's side, just above the back tire.

  "Do you remember this from before?"

  Her heart started to pound faster as he looked at her, and not because of Mason's attention, although that didn't help. She shook her head slowly.

  "That wasn't there last week."

  "You're sure?" Mason pressed.

  "I washed her car."

  He lifted his eyebrow, so she felt compelled to keep talking.

  "I had borrowed her car to go to town and get supplies for the renovations we were doing. It got covered in mud so I cleaned it. I would have seen that."

  She dragged her eyes from his to study the orange mark.

  "Do you think it's important? Do you think it happened during her accident?"

  "Losing control of a car and landing in some trees doesn't transfer paint," Mason said carefully.

  She swallowed and stared at him. Sweat popped up all over her body. "You think someone ran her off the road?"

  He inhaled sharply and traced the mark again. "It looks like a possibility."

  She'd been right. Viv's death hadn't been an accident. Anna's head began to swim. She gaped, unblinkingly, at that scrape. Who had an orange car? Who had done this?

  Mason stood hastily and grabbed her by the arms to steady her. "Breathe. You gotta breathe."

  "I didn't want to be right."

  "We need to talk to the police," Mason said.

  "That's just what I was thinking," said a voice behind them.

  They had been caught.

  Anna spun around to face the man who had joined them.

  "Jesus, Anna, what the hell are you doing in here?"

  Ryan stared at her in surprise. He was always a bit of a pretty boy, and even now with a grease stain across his cheek and a pair of grimy overalls, he was too good-looking for his own good. Luckily few women ever ventured out to the compound to see him like this.

  "And why are you here with him?" her brother demanded. As he looked Mason up and down, he seemed to puff out his chest in some weird male territorial gesture. It was ridiculous.

  Mason put his hands up in mock surrender.

  Ryan's gaze flew back to Anna.

  "What's going on?"

  Anna glanced at her co-conspirator.

  "Shit. You guys were looking at Viv's car, weren't you?"

  "I tried calling you," Anna said. If he had been here the whole time and had answered his stupid phone, she wouldn't have had to climb the stupid fence.

  "Forgot to plug in my phone last night when I got home. It's dead." Ryan rolled one of his shoulders in a lazy shrug.

  "What are you doing here? I didn't see your truck out front."

  "Hey," Ryan said. "Don't go trying to twist things around. You are the one who hopped the fence to get in here, remember?"

  Mason cleared his throat.

  Right. They weren't here for a sibling squabble. She snapped her mouth shut.

  "Were you here when the police looked it over?" Mason motioned to the car as he came to stand beside her. A little too close.

  Ryan scowled at their proximity. He stepped closer and pushed his shirtsleeves up higher on his arms. When neither Mason nor Anna moved, Ryan narrowed his eyes and studied her face for a minute. She stared back at him and tapped her toe. What the hell was he looking for? Then his posture changed, relaxing a little.

  "You saw that mark on the back, didn't you?" he asked, as if his weird brotherly posturing hadn't just happened. "Yeah. They saw it too. They didn't think it meant anything." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "I overheard them say that it must have been something the car hit when it went off the road."

  "You don't sound like you believe that," Mason said.

  "No." Ryan rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. "I'm the one who brought the car back here. I was out there. There wasn't anything orange in that ditch."

  Mason stood in stony silence for a long moment after Ryan finished speaking. Then he clenched his hand slowly.

  "Who was it?" he asked. "Who was out here talking about that?"

  Ryan looked over his shoulder. His gaze darted over the misshapen lumps of metal that made up this graveyard of vehicles. He
leaned forward after he had confirmed that they were alone.

  "The two new young constables. They were here talking with Harry Miller."

  Mason remained eerily still.

  "Why was Harry here?" Mason's voice was dead even. If she hadn't known that they were here to look into Viv's death, she would have thought Mason was having an everyday conversation with someone.

  "Right," Ryan said. "I remember now. He was the one who told them about the orange. Told them he'd seen posts that color up along that ditch. One of the constables is renting a place from Harry. They seemed to know one another pretty well."

  "Why was he here?" Anna prodded. Her voice wasn't nearly so even.

  "He was here to pick up his truck. It'd been impounded the night before. Said he had parked it in a tow-away zone by accident. Old Betty at the diner needed her morning delivery so she called to get it towed. Actually, Larry was towing that when I got the call to go out for Viv's car."

  Anna wrapped her arms over her stomach. Everything inside her churned and coiled. Harry's truck was white, not orange, but he was involved. Suddenly Anna was sure of it.

  "Can you show us where the accident happened?" Mason asked.

  "I can't right now. I'm on the clock—"

  "Ryan? Honey?" A pretty brunette emerged from the big Quonset at the end of the lot. Her clothing was askew and her hair was all messed up… in that I've-just-had-sex way. "Where are you?"

  "I'll be right there."

  Ryan stared at Anna, as if willing her to stay quiet. Then the woman seemed to see them. She let out a little squeal and ducked back into the building.

  "Ryan Benjamin Brooks, that was Prue Nichols," Anna said. "She's married."

  He rolled his eyes to the sky. "Why do you think we are out here?"

  Mason put his hand on her lower back to calm her. God, she couldn't be having this conversation in front of Mason. Not that the Randall brothers had pristine reputations. But Ryan was sleeping with Prue freaking Nichols. The woman was a snooty bitch.

  "Listen," Ryan said, continuing as if they hadn't just discovered his adulterous affair, "if you just go up that road leading to Brander's Hill, on the right-hand side by the clump of birch trees. Well, you can't miss it. The tire ruts are still visible in the ditch."