The Masked Man

His arm snaked around her waist and he dragged her to him, his mouth dropping to hers

She’d never been kissed like this before. It was so unlike her fiancé. Overnight it seemed as if his body had changed. He was so muscular, so solid. How could this be? she wondered to herself.

The darkness was so intense she couldn’t see his features, could only feel him, the unfamiliar hardness of his body. She tried to push him away, but he only deepened the kiss, holding her to him as if he never wanted to let her go, as if he’d been waiting for her, needing her. Suddenly he seemed so different….

She lost herself in his kiss, stirred by an intensity she’d never felt before at his unexpected ardor. It was as if they’d never touched before….

And then she knew.

He was someone else….

The Masked Man

B.J. Daniels

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

B.J. Daniels sets her latest book in the backwoods of Montana, a place she knows well. She’s lived in Montana since she was five, when her family moved to a cabin her father built in the Gallatin Canyon.

A former award-winning journalist, B.J. had thirty-six short stories published before she wrote and sold her first romantic suspense, Odd Man Out, which was later nominated for the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best First Book and Best Harlequin Intrigue.

B.J. lives in Bozeman with her husband, Parker, two springer spaniels, Zoey and Scout, and an irascible tomcat named Jeff. She is a member of the Bozeman Writers Group and Romance Writers of America. To contact her, write: P.O. Box 183, Bozeman, MT59771.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Jill Lawson—The owner of The Best Buns in Town bakery expects her fiancé to be waiting for her in the dark cottage the night of the masquerade party. Instead, she finds a masked man who fulfills her fantasies—and makes her a suspect in a murder.

MacKenzie Cooper—The private investigator is lured into more than murder….

Trevor Forester—He wants it all, including Inspiration Island and Jill Lawson—and he has lied, cheated and stolen to get them. No wonder someone wants him dead.

Nathaniel Pierce—He has everything money can buy—and then some. But when his most prized possessions are stolen, he will do anything to get them back.

Heddy and Alistair Forester—They thought they were doing the right thing, raising their son Trevor to appreciate the finer things in life.

Rachel Wells—She was finally going to get what she deserved.

Shane Ramsey—Mac’s nephew has always gotten into trouble, but this time he’s in way over his head.

Arnie Evans—Trevor Forester’s best friend did whatever Trevor told him to. Now he’s paying the price.

This book is for Travis Ness,

who came into our lives on a prayer—and now believes in love at first sight. Montana born, he loves our annual summer weekend at Flathead Lake. He also loves my daughter, and we love him.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Prologue

He picked her up in his headlights as he came around the curve. She stood beside the narrow lake road, thumb out. He slowed to make sure before he stopped, but his blood was already pounding.

Yes. Long blond hair, sun-kissed bare limbs, sixteen, seventeen tops. She wore a pink T-shirt that hugged her small breasts and navy shorts that exposed slim, coltish legs and, as he stopped the car beside her, he saw that she had The Look.

He was a sucker for The Look. That cool, confident conviction that her life was only just beginning, that she would live forever, that nothing would harm her. It was a look that came only with youth.

“Hey,” he said as he rolled down the passenger-side window and leaned over to smile at her. “Where ya headed?”

She stepped closer, bending at the waist to look in at him. “Bigfork?”

Her sweet scent rushed in with the warm summer night. Raspberry, he thought, one of his favorites. She hooked a hand over the open window frame. Her fingernails were painted a pale pink. He really liked that. On her slim, tanned wrist a tiny silver charm bracelet with a perfect little silver heart tinkled softly.

He could hardly contain himself. “Hop in, I’m going that way. You must be in Bigfork working for the summer.” He didn’t want to make the mistake of trying to pick up a local girl again.

She nodded, stepped closer.

It always came down to a few crucial seconds.

She glanced at his car, then at him again.

In her blue eyes he saw that instant of uncertainty that could save—or destroy—her.

Seconds. Life or death. He loved this part.

“Thanks,” she said and reached for the door handle. Ain’t no big, bad wolf here.

He smiled. All teeth.

Chapter One

Jill Lawson couldn’t believe it.

Trevor had stood her up again. Only this time it was for his parents’ anniversary masquerade party. This time she was dressed as Scarlett O’Hara and feeling foolish as she waited in a far wing of the house, alone. This time was going to be the last time.

“I can’t marry this man. I’m breaking off the engagement.” The words echoed in the dark, empty room. “Tonight.”

She watched the approaching thunderstorm move across the lake and waited for the aftershock of her decision. She had expected to feel something other than…relief. Certainly more regret.

She didn’t.

This far down the east wing of the Foresters’ massive lake house the sounds of the ongoing party were muted. That was one of the reasons she had come down here. To get away from all the merriment and the reminder that she was alone, the engagement ring on her finger feeling suddenly too tight. The ache in her heart too familiar.

She ached for something she wasn’t even sure existed except maybe in the movies.

“You act like you expect fireworks, maybe the earth to move? Really, Jill, you are such a fool,” Trevor had said when she’d tried to voice her concerns the last time she’d seen him.

Well, she certainly felt like a fool tonight, she thought. She had hardly seen Trevor since he’d asked her to marry him, but when he’d called, he’d promised that tonight would be different. After all, it was his parents’ thirty-fifth anniversary, and summer was almost over, another season gone.

Heddy and Alistair threw a costume party to celebrate the event at the end of August every year at their house on the east shore of Flathead Lake. This year the theme was famous lovers, and Trevor had insisted Jill come as Scarlett so he could be Rhett Butler. And he’d stood her up.

“Quite frankly, Rhett, I don’t give a damn,” she said to the dark room. A lie. She did give a damn. She had wanted Trevor Forester to be The One. And at first, he’d made her believe he was.

She looked down at the silver charm bracelet on her wrist, the tiny heart dangling from the chain, and remembered the night he’d given it to her. On her birthday two months ago. It was right after that when he’d asked her to marry him and had given her the antique engagement ring now on her finger.

Her instincts warned her that everything between her and Trevor had happened too fast. She’d let him bowl her over, not giving her time to think. Or hardly react. And suddenly she was engaged to a man she didn’t really know.

He’d been involved in his construction project, an upscale resort he called Inspiration Island south of Bigfork, Montana, in the middle of Flathead Lake, almost since they’d started dating.

Admittedly, he had been working a lot. A week ago he’d stopped by her bakery and she’d barely recognized him. He was tanned, leaner, more muscular.

She felt herself weaken a little at the memory of how good he’d looked and quickly was reminded that he had only made love to her once, soon after the engagement. In the weeks since, he always had an excuse—he was too tired or had to meet one of the investors or had to get back to the island.

“Everything will be different once we’re married,” he’d promised.

“Right,” she said to the dark. She didn’t believe that. Didn’t believe anything Trevor told her anymore. “We’re never going to know if things will be different because I’m not marrying you, Trevor Forester.” She spun around in surprise. Someone had come into the dark room without her realizing it. How long had he or she been there, listening?

A small table lamp came on, blinding her for an instant. She thought at first the other person was Trevor and she would get this over with quickly. This quiet wing of the house would serve her purpose well.

But it wasn’t Trevor. “I heard you mention my son’s name,” Heddy Forester said. She was dressed as Cleopatra. Her Anthony, Alistair Forester, didn’t seem to be with her.

Obviously Heddy had heard her. But Jill didn’t want to spoil Heddy’s anniversary party. The older woman would hear soon enough about the broken engagement. Then again, maybe Heddy wouldn’t be that disappointed by the news.

“I’m just upset because Trevor is so late,” Jill said.

“I’m sure he has a good reason.” Heddy always defended her only offspring. “He’s been working such long hours on the island.”

“Yes, but I thought he’d call,” Jill said, trying not to show just how upset she really was. Heddy Forester didn’t miss much, though.

“Maybe he can’t get to a phone,” Heddy offered, studying her. The sound of music, chattering guests and fireworks going off drifted in from the patio. There must have been at least a hundred people at the party.

Jill thought about mentioning that Trevor had a cell phone with him all the time, but didn’t. “I’m sure he’ll be along soon,” she said diplomatically. In the distance thunder rumbled, the horizon over the lake dark and ominous.

“Or maybe he’s trapped on the island and can’t get back,” Heddy suggested, looking anxiously out the window at the storm brewing over the water. “I’ll bet his cell phone won’t work in a storm like this.”

“I thought Trevor wasn’t going to the island today.”

Heddy didn’t seem to hear. “I’d better get my guests in before the storm hits. Send Trevor to find me when he arrives.”

Jill nodded. Heddy was right. Trevor wouldn’t miss his parents’ anniversary party. He had to have a good reason for being this late. For standing Jill up. Again.

After Heddy left, Jill turned the light back off, preferring to watch the approaching storm in the dark, preferring to let Trevor find her. She loved thunderstorms, the dramatic light, the awesome power, the smell of the rain-washed summer evening afterward.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, watching all the guests rush in as the storm moved across the water toward them, the darkness complete. Down the slope from the house, the wind tore leaves from the trees and sent waves splashing over the docks. Jill caught the flicker of boat lights on the other side of the Foresters’ small guest cottage at the edge of the lake and wondered what fool would go out in a storm like this.

Speaking of fools… She glanced at her watch. Eight-fifteen. Trevor was almost two hours late. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The red-white-and-blue flags snapped in the wind out on the patio under a flapping striped canopy. The patio was empty, everyone now inside as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. She should go home before it started to rain.

She could break off the engagement tomorrow. Tomorrow, when she was less angry. Tomorrow, when she wasn’t dressed in a hoop skirt and green-velvet curtain material. Why had Trevor insisted they come to the party as Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara, anyway? Hadn’t Scarlett ended up alone?

Then again, maybe this was the perfect costume.

“Say good-night, Scarlett,” she said to the room and started to turn from the window. A jagged bolt of lightning flashed, spiking down into the water, illuminating the patio and the curve of rock steps that swept down the grassy slope to the lake cottage. And in that flash of light she saw him.

Rhett Butler. He ducked into the cottage just an instant before thunder rumbled overhead. The first raindrops spattered the window. Trevor must have been on the boat she’d seen and now he’d gone into the cottage to wait out the storm.

When the lights didn’t come on inside the cottage, she realized the shutters were closed. Trevor was alone down there, offering her the perfect opportunity to talk to him. This couldn’t wait. She suspected he’d been avoiding her because he, too, thought their engagement was a mistake. He couldn’t avoid her now.

She braced herself, then opened the patio door, lifted the hoop skirt with one hand and, holding on to her hat with the other, raced across the patio to the rock steps that descended to the cottage.

Behind her, the wind moaned through the trees, sending leaves scurrying. Snatches of the music from the party chased after her but were quickly drowned out by the crash of waves. Lightning struck so close it raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. As she ran toward the cottage, rain slashed down, hard as hail and just as cold. Thunder boomed, deafening.

She was close enough to the water now that she could feel the spray from the waves. Her hand was on the doorknob when lightning electrified the sky overhead once more. This time the thunderclap reverberated in her chest.

The lights on the patio blinked out and behind her the main house went dark. She opened the cottage door, the room inside as black as the bottom of a bucket. Chilled, wet and a little disoriented by the darkness, she stepped in and quickly closed the door behind her.

Her lips parted as she started to say Trevor’s name, sensing, rather than hearing, him near her.

Before she could get his name out, his arm snaked around her waist and he dragged her to him, his mouth unerringly dropping to hers.

She gasped in surprise and pushed with both palms against his broad chest, the darkness so intense she couldn’t see his features, could only feel him, the unfamiliar Rhett Butler costume mustache, the unfamiliar hardness of his body. Had he seen her coming down from the house and thought he could make things up to her by taking her to bed? Fat chance.

She tried to push him away, but he only deepened the kiss, holding her to him as if he never wanted to let her go, as if he’d been waiting for her, needing her.

This wasn’t why she’d come down here. Or was it? Had she secretly hoped Trevor could change her mind?

He groaned against her mouth and she felt herself weaken in his arms. He’d never kissed her like this before. His body was so muscular, so solid, harder than it had been the last time they’d made love.

If this was his way of saying he was sorry… She lost herself in his kiss, in the warmth of his body molded to hers, stirred in a way she’d never been before by this unexpected ardor.

Her hat fell to the floor as he buried his fingers in her hair and pressed her against the wall with his body, his mouth exploring hers as his hand moved up her waist and over her rib cage to cup her breast in his warm palm. Heat shot through her.

She had never wanted him so badly. Her body felt on fire as he moved his hands over her, exploring her flesh with his fingertips in the blind darkness. She arched against him, strangely uninhibited. There was something exciting about not being able to see each other, only feel. It was as if they’d never touched before as his fingers explored beneath the confines of her costume.

His touch sure and strong, he swiftly and efficiently relieved her of her clothing, the hoop skirt, the entire dress, leaving only her skimpy silk panties and bra.

Outside the warm cottage the storm raged. She sighed with pleasure against his mouth, his lips never leaving hers as if he’d feared what she might have said if he hadn’t kissed her the moment she came into the cottage. Had he realized how abandoned and alone she’d been feeling? How afraid she was that they were about to make a mistake by marrying?

She’d never felt more naked as his fingers skimmed over her skin, stopping to fondle her through the thin silk of her underthings. Hadn’t she, in fact, worn the sexy lingerie hoping things would be different between them tonight, just as Trevor had promised?

She worked feverishly at the buttons of his costume, his kisses growing more ardent, more demanding, her need becoming more frantic as she worked with wanton abandon to free him of his clothing. His need matched hers as he relieved her of her bra and panties and helped discard his own clothing, and all the time, never stopped kissing her.

She shuddered at the first touch of his naked skin against hers, heard his soft groan as he dragged her down to the floor, their lovemaking as wild and frenzied as the storm outside.

He took her higher than she’d ever been, a rarefied place depleted of oxygen, where stars blinded her vision and each breath seemed her last until the final crescendo of storm and passion and release, sending her reeling into a dark, infinite universe of pleasure.

She felt tears come to her eyes as he curled her to him on the floor, spooning her into his warmth, spent and seemingly as awed as she.

She snuggled close, content for the first time in her life. She knew there was no going back. She’d just committed to this man in a way more binding than any engagement ring or pronouncement of love. She’d been so wrong about him. So wrong about them.

She closed her eyes, her skin still tingling, her heart still hammering like the rain on the roof. She didn’t hear the door open.

A chill wind blew in, rippling over her skin. At the same moment she opened her eyes, a flash of lightning lit the outside world, illuminating the driving rain—and the dark figure silhouetted in the doorway.

So content, so sated, so happy was Jill that it took her a moment to recognize the familiar silhouette in the doorway. The hat, the hair, the hoop skirt. Another Scarlett. It took even longer for the words the other Scarlett spoke to register. “Trevor, darling, I’m sorry I’m late but I—”

In that instant Jill saw the other Scarlett take in the hurriedly discarded costumes on the floor, her head coming up to look where Jill lay on the floor in Trevor’s arms in that instant before the lightning flash blinked out, pitching everything back into blackness.

“You bastard!” the woman shrieked. “You lousy—” A boom of thunder drowned out the rest as she whirled away.

For just an instant Jill didn’t move. Then the truth hit her. A cry caught in her throat as she jerked free of Trevor’s arms, recoiling in shame. She stumbled to her feet and grabbed at the pile of clothing she’d seen in that flash of light, that flash of understanding—Trevor had thought he was making love to someone else! The other Scarlett. No wonder it had been so passionate! So amazingly tender and loving and filled with desire!

Behind her, he still hadn’t said a word. But she could feel him watching her. Wasn’t he even going to bother to try to talk himself out of this?

It was too dark inside the cottage to find her skimpy underwear. With her back to him, she dressed with only one thing in mind—getting out of there as quickly as possible. She pulled on the hoop, frantically tied it and slipped the damp dress over her head, then felt around for her shoes in the dark, wanting nothing more than to flee before he tried to apologize, which would make it all so much worse.

On the way to the door she tripped on her hat, which she then swept up from the floor. Fighting tears of humiliation and anger, she tugged off the engagement ring.

She was grateful for the darkness in the cottage. From the doorway she didn’t have to see his face, only the dark shape of him on the floor. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t said a word. But then, what could he say?

“You are a lousy bastard, Trevor Forester,” she said, and flung the engagement ring at him before rushing out.

Fool that she was, she expected to hear him call after her. She thought she heard him groan, but it could have been the wind.

She lifted the wet velvet hem of the dress and, her shoes still in her hand, ran up the hillside, avoiding the main house, afraid to look back for fear she would see Trevor standing in the doorway of the cottage—and feel something other than hatred for him.

She didn’t let herself cry until she was in her van driving back to her apartment over the bakery. Tears scalded her eyes, blurring her vision as the windshield wipers clacked back and forth against the pounding rain.

She could still smell him on her, still feel his touch as if it was imprinted on her skin, still taste his kisses. Damn Trevor Forester. Damn him to hell.

Rain fell in a torrent. Jill barely recognized the little red Saturn sedan that almost ran her off the road as it came up from behind and whizzed past, going too fast for the narrow, winding road along the lakeshore. But in her headlights she read the personalized license plate: JILLS. It was her car, the car Trevor had borrowed the last time she’d seen him, saying his Audi Quatro sports car was in the shop. Since then, Jill had been driving her bakery delivery van with The Best Buns In Town painted on the side.

The driver went by so fast that Jill hadn’t seen who was behind the wheel. Trevor? Or had he loaned her car to his girlfriend? Or were they both in the car?

And Jill thought she was angry with Trevor before!

She pushed the van’s gas pedal of the van to the floor, trying to close the distance between her and the red Saturn. Was Trevor hoping to beat her back to her apartment? Beg her forgiveness? Or trying to get away? He had to have recognized the van. It was darned hard to miss.

Jill kept the Saturn’s taillights in sight as she raced after it, the van forced to take the curves more slowly. The narrow road was cut into the side of the mountain. In some places, the land beneath the road dropped in rocky cliffs to the water. In others, cherry orchards clung to the steep hillside for miles, broken only by tall dense pines and rock.

On the outskirts of Bigfork, Montana, the Saturn turned right into a new complex, where Trevor had rented a condo until he and Jill were married. At least that had been the plan. He had said he was going to buy her a house on the lake. He didn’t want them living in some dinky condo.

As Jill parked the van behind her car in front of the condo, she told herself she should just take the car and leave. As angry as she was, this wouldn’t be a good time for a confrontation—with Trevor or his girlfriend.

But then, how would she get the van back to the bakery? She’d need it early in the morning to make deliveries.