Overview
Cale Martin knew at once Linnea Porter was his mate, but could he convince her in the midst of turmoil?
When The Sentinels agreed to look into the disappearance of Linnea Porter's sister, Cale Martin was tagged as the lead. He didn't know what he expected the first night he showed up at Linnea's, but a surge of lust wasn't on his list. Nor did he expect his inner wolf to reach out to her.
For Linnea, fascinated by shapeshifters, Cale called to something primitive inside her. As they focused on finding her sister, the bond between them continued to grow. Was it possible that this shifter and this human were meant to be...mated?
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780857153739 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Totally Entwined Group |
| Publication date: | 12/27/2010 |
| Series: | The Sentinels , #5 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 48 |
| Sales rank: | 910,592 |
| File size: | 398 KB |
| Age Range: | 18 Years |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
"I want to thank all of you for showing up here for me."
Regan Matthews Spencer stood at the head of the table in the conference room at The Sentinels. On either side of her were the eight Sentinels, including her husband, Brian, and the newest additions. Ann Marie Knight, Drew Noland's wife. Sierra Hart, married to Brian's brother, Luke. And Mack Renfield, recently wed to Sentinel Kelsey Bryant. Like the eight original members of the protection agency, Ann Marie and Mack were also shifters. This meant that when they were needed in their wolf form, the team had additional help.
Now Regan, an assistant prosecuting attorney who had met Brian when she herself hired The Sentinels, was asking their help with a very personal problem.
"No problem, Regan." Drew Noland smiled at her. "We're all here for each other."
"Well, I know you and Ann Marie ..." she looked around the table, "and you, Cale, drove in from your ranches because I asked for the full team, and I really appreciate it."
"You're one of us," her sister-in-law, Sierra, Luke's wife, pointed out. "You ask, we're here."
Regan smiled, although it was a strained expression. "Well, thanks, anyway. This is very important to me. I may not need all of you but I wanted everyone's input."
"When did your friend disappear?" This from Cale Martin. Lean and dark, with thick black hair, he looked every bit the rancher he was. His ranch in the Hill Country was near Drew and Ann Marie's and they'd driven in to the meeting caravan fashion.
"It's actually my friend's sister. Linnea Porter and I started in the prosecutor's office together and we've always been very close. Some of you met her at our wedding." She looked around the table again.
"Sorry," he apologised. "My mistake. But if she's that close to you then her sister's disappearance has to have hit you hard, too."
"Yes, it has. I met Cathy a number of times and I agree withLinnea. This isn't someone who would just walk away from her friends and family without a word."
Brian uncurled himself from his relaxed pose. "She's been a great friend to Regan and me, so I'd really like it if we helped out with this. Linnea's really distraught over her sister's disappearance. Cathy Porter isn't an irresponsible person, so you can bet something's wrong here."
"Especially since the police haven't been able to find any trace of Cathy Porter in almost a month," Regan added.
"Linnea's at the end of her rope," Brian told them. "Like Regan said, the investigation's going nowhere and I think the cops are getting ready to stick it in the cold case files."
"When was the last time someone saw her?" Mack Renfrew asked. When he and Kelsey Bryant had gotten married The Sentinels had added him to their group. Now he, Kelsey, and Luke and Sierra Spencer ran a northeast office of the agency in Mainewhere they all lived.
Regan took a deep breath and looked at her notes, although she knew the story by heart. "According to both Linnea and Cathy's boyfriend, the last anyone saw her was when she left for work on a Thursday morning. She works for The Gage Foundation, one of the biggest philanthropic foundations in the city. She had some calls to make out of the office, checking on fund recipients. She was getting ready to do the monthly reports to donors and she had some questions she wanted answers to first. No biggie. She did that a lot." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Talking about this always upset her. "Anyway, she never showed up at the office and no one's seen her since then."
"I'm sure the cops checked with everyone she saw that day," Mack commented.
Regan nodded. "Yes. More than once. But it's like she just disappeared into thin air." She looked at Brian.
He smiled at her and leant forward in his chair. "The thing is," he told them all, "we're already at the point where the trail's cold and people's memories are fading. If we don't do something soon, we may never know what happened to her."
"People don't just disappear," Luke stated. "There's always a reason. Someone helps that along. If the police are getting ready to write it off, something needs to be done quickly."
Regan looked around the table. "Can you help? Will you help? I have a retainer check from Linnea in my purse if you say yes."
Before anyone could say anything Cale cleared his throat. "I think we should. Definitely." He let his gaze travel over everyone. "Before I met you guys I had a nonshifter friend who had a brother who disappeared. Turned out he'd hung out with the wrong people, gotten hooked on drugs and overdosed in some crack house. The cops were ready to write him off as just another druggie who faded into oblivion, but the family was destroyed. They at least wanted to know if he was dead or alive, and if he was dead, to give him a decent burial. My friend and I jumped in where the cops had left off and were able to find the answers." He ran his fingers through his thick hair. "They were sad at what had become of him, but they were happy to have the answers they needed and to be able to close that chapter."
"I don't think drugs are the problem with Cathy Porter," Regan said. "She's pretty much a straight arrow."
"I'm just saying," Cale told her, "that I know how survivors feel. We need to get your friend some answers. Whatever they turn out to be."
"Are you willing to take the lead in this, then?" Brian asked.
"Yes." Cale nodded. "Absolutely."
"Thank you very much, Cale." Regan gave him a grateful smile. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate you stepping forward."
He shrugged. "You know if I hadn't, someone else would. We're a team, Regan. A family."
Regan looked from Cale to Brian and back again. "So what now?"
"I'll go talk to Linnea," Cale said. "That would be first on my list." He looked at Regan. "Can you give me her address?"
"Yes. And her phone number." She pulled her PDA from her briefcase along with a tiny notebook. Pulling up the information on her PDA, she wrote down the information but hesitated before handing the slip of paper to Cale.
"Is there a problem?" Cale asked.
"What is it, honey?" Brian asked at the same time.
"She's ... a little fragile right now. Anxious and depressed because the police not only haven't gotten anywhere but seem to think Cathy may have just walked off on her own. Even though there was nothing leading up to that day that might have signalled that. The worst part is they've even suggested maybe she and Cathy were into something that caused her disappearance."
Cale raised an eyebrow. "Why would they think that?"
She shrugged. "Because they can't find answers anywhere else. I can tell you, it hasn't helped her state of mind. Linnea's really upset about the way the whole thing has been handled and that more days keep passing without any hint of what happened. She swears Cathy would never just walk off like that and I believe her. So she's kind of an emotional basket case. We need to be ... kind to her."
"Regan." Cale leaned towards her. "Of all of us, because of what happened with my friend, I'm probably the one who knows best the delicate nature of something like this. Trust me. I'll take good care of her."
"One last thing. And you really need to know this."
"Lay it on me."
"She knows The Sentinels are shifters."
Conversation erupted again, and Brian let loose a piercing sound to get everyone's attention.
"Cool it, folks," Brian told them. "She's one of Regan's closest friends and spends a fair amount of time with us. She dropped in on us unexpectedly one night. I had just come from a run and wasn't paying attention so I didn't know Regan had company. My bad."
"Did she freak?" Luke wanted to know.
"A little, at first. But then, when we told her what the situation was, she actually seemed fascinated. Which is kind of weird, because usually humans tend to give us a wide berth when they find out about us. And Linnea's not normally an ... adventurous person. But she's not only accepting of this but wants to learn more about it. We lent her some books to read."
"She's been unbelievably accepting of it," Brian told them. "And it seems the more she learns, the more she wants to learn."
Sierra exchanged a glance with Regan. "I think the two Spencer wives are proof that not all humans run away from shape shifters." She grinned. "And aren't we lucky we didn't?"
Luke winked at her, a tiny note of humour in a tense situation. "I think Brian and I are the lucky ones."
"And," Regan added, grinning herself, "she did say one of the reasons she wanted to hire The Sentinels was because she thought shifters could do things the police couldn't. So. Are we still good to go?"
Cale nodded. "After that introduction? Absolutely."
"You might keep this in mind," Brian told him. "She did want to know where she could get a shifter of her own."
"Seriously?" Sierra asked, linking her fingers possessively with her husband's.
"Like I said, Linnea's ... different," Regan added.
"Different good or different bad?" Cale wanted to know. "What should I be prepared for?"
Regan laughed. "You'll like her. That's all I'm going to say."
The meeting broke up and they all headed out of the small stucco building that housed their office.
"Cale?" Regan had hurried to catch up with him. "I just wanted to say thank you. You don't know how much this means to me."
He touched the brim of his cowboy hat. "I hope I can help her."
* * *
Cale pulled his truck to the kerb and parked it, turned off the lights and sat studying Linnea Porter's house. He'd spent the day setting things up with his ranch manager, not knowing how long he'd be in the city, telling the man he'd check back with him to let him know. Then he'd driven up to San Antonio, waiting until he knew Linnea Porter would have had time to get home and have something to eat.
He'd found her with Google Street View, so he had a fair idea ahead of time not only of where she lived but what her house looked like. Constructed of brick and stucco, its two stories rose gracefully from a decent size lawn, the doors guarded by lush crape myrtles. An ancient oak tree spread its branches at the front of the yard and with the glow of the street lamp and his wolf's eyes he saw that the backyard fell away to a forested area. He'd guess she'd either bought the house a long time ago or inherited it, because this kind of real estate at the far northwest end of the city was pretty pricey.
Last night when he'd returned to the ranch he'd stayed up a while and Googled her to see what he could find. There was precious little out there other than her official bio put out by the prosecutor's office as well as some articles about cases she'd tried. Although there'd been a lot of professional information about her on the Internet there had been almost nothing personal about her. She was single and an assistant prosecuting attorney who appeared to have a good track record and was known as a hard nose when it came to violent crimes. Good for her. His kind of woman.
But he wondered again why a single woman wanted to live in such a big house. Nothing he'd read gave him a clue.
Locking the truck, he climbed the steps to her porch and rang the doorbell. The door opened and Linnea Porter stood there backlit by the light from her living room. His groin tightened and his wolf growled. Linnea Porter was definitely not what he'd expected. He'd been looking for a tall, tough female with a no nonsense look. This woman took his breath away. He figured her for about five foot four. The t-shirt and jeans she wore fit perfectly on a slender body and the soft fabric of the shirt fell casually against high, round breasts. A delicate face with huge green eyes was accented by a tumble of glossy black hair that fell in a straight curtain to her shoulders.
"Cale, right?" Her voice was soft, but with a definite hint of steel behind it. He recognised the habitual tone of the prosecutor.
"Yes, ma'am." He touched the brim of his hat.
"Come in." She stepped back to allow him to enter.
He followed her from the wide foyer into the living room, taking in the spaciousness of the house.
"I hope I won't offend you," he said, "if I say this seems like a lot of house for one person. And I didn't think a prosecutor's salary ran to this neighbourhood."
Her eyes flashed fire. "Meaning I must be getting my money somewhere else? Maybe something not quite so up front?"
"Whoa." Cale held up a hand. "I said I hoped I didn't offend you. I was just making a comment."
As quickly as it had sparked, the anger died. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I just reach my flashpoint a little more easily these days. The police keep trying to insist that Cathy and I were into something ... shady, and that had something to do with her disappearance." She sighed. "They've been into everything at my office so much my boss finally told them to back off or he'd take out a restraining order against the police department."
"That's what I was told." He gave her a look of sympathy. "I'm sorry you've had to go through this. By the way, Regan speaks very highly of you. And she wouldn't be friends with someone she didn't trust and respect."
A quick smile danced across her lips. "You mean considering her situation?"
Cale nodded. "Among other things."
"Well, to set your mind at ease about my living conditions, the house belonged to our grandparents. Our folks live in Arizona now and my grandmother passed away two years ago. She gave the house to Cathy and me. It's mortgage-free, which is a big bonus. But listen to me babble. Sit down, please." She gestured to a large armchair. "I made coffee. I didn't think to ask what you drink when you called. I also have beer if you'd rather."
Her lilting voice mesmerised him. He could imagine witnesses so hypnotised from listening to her that they'd spill the truth without even realising it.
"Coffee's fine." He took off his hat, holding it at his side.
"Cream? Sugar?"
"Just black is good."
He lowered himself into the chair and placed his hat on the small table next to it, running his fingers through his hair to get rid of the hatband marks. Linnea was back in seconds with two mugs, handing one to him, then seating herself on the couch opposite him.
"Thank you so much for coming. I told Regan I really appreciate her bringing this to The Sentinels and getting a positive response. I didn't know where else to turn."
"It's what we do," he said simply, and took a sip of the coffee. "I didn't realise your sister lived here with you."
"She didn't. She was in a relationship for some time and she and Jim had their own place."
Cale raised an eyebrow. "She was living with someone? I don't think Regan mentioned that."
Linnea nodded. "I didn't discuss it too much. I'm really not too crazy about him."
"Any special reason?"
She sighed. "No, just a feeling. I tried to get the police to pay more attention to him, but Jim can come off as the perfect gentleman when he wants, and I think they just had their own ideas about what happened. Period."
"Is he from around here?"
"No." She took a sip of her coffee. "He moved here about two and a half years ago. She met him I think about six months after that, at some party she went to. She has some stuff here, but she and Jim moved in together shortly after Gram died."
"What do you know about him?"
Linnea shrugged. "He works for an ad agency and is supposed to be very good at what he does. He was living in Denver and told Cathy he just needed a change. A break. Someone told him about a position at an agency here, he applied and I guess that was that."
"Does he have any family you know of? Did Cathy meet them?"
"She said his parents were dead and he was an only child."
"Convenient." Cale couldn't keep the sarcastic edge out of his voice.
"I thought so, too," she agreed, "but she was in love and didn't want to hear anything from me. I guess he's nice enough. Just not my cup of tea."
Cale leant forward, casually resting his elbows on his thighs, doing his best to put this woman at ease. "So. Why don't you give me the story in its simplest form? Then I can ask questions and we'll fill in the blanks."
"I wish I had a whole story to tell you." She caught her lower lip between even white teeth.
Cale's inner wolf growled again, scrabbling to get out. It wanted those teeth scraping its cock and biting its nipples. His cock immediately swelled to painful thickness, pushing hard against his fly.
Great. Just what I need. She'll think The Sentinels sent her a sex maniac.
Cale shifted in the chair and crossed his legs, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. He held his coffee mug loosely in his hands, hiding his crotch. It gave him the best position to hide this erection that had sprung to life unbidden.
"Just tell me what you've got." He tried to make his voice as encouraging as possible.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Mated"
by .
Copyright © 2010 Desiree Holt.
Excerpted by permission of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
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