Unwritten Rules (Phoenix, Ltd. Book 1) Read online

  Unwritten Rules

  By

  Alison Henderson

  Unwritten Rules

  Things aren’t going Madelyn Li’s way. Her bodyguard agency is teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, her grandmother keeps hatching plots to marry her off, and someone is trying to kill her latest client. All she wants is to safely escort thriller writer and former CIA agent Carter Devlin on his cross country book tour and collect her check, but two obstacles stand in her way: a shadowy assailant and her own growing attraction to her dashing client.

  Carter Devlin has agreed to accept the beautiful and determined Ms. Li as a bodyguard primarily to appease his publisher. After all, who would want to kill a beat-up, retired ex-spy on a book tour? But when the attacks turn deadly, he soon learns there’s more to Madelyn than a pretty face and tempting body. Will the spark become a flame before a killer snuffs it out?

  Unwritten Rules

  © Copyright 2013 Alison Henderson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover art by Creative Author Services

  Published by Alison Henderson

  United States of America

  Electronic Edition: August 2013

  Table of Contents

  Unwritten Rules

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Other Books by Alison Henderson

  Chapter One

  “We want the best, Ms. Li. We want you.”

  The earnest little man facing her across the desk had thinning hair the color of faded copper, a big walrus mustache, and the expression of a cheerful bloodhound. His upright posture added a jaunty air of confidence, as well as an extra inch or two of height.

  Despite her visitor’s singular appearance, Madelyn couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at the tall man lounging in the chair beside him. She’d nearly sloshed coffee on her favorite white shirt when he walked into her office.

  “A-hem, Ms. Li.” The smaller man interrupted her errant train of thought.

  She gave herself a mental slap and quickly arranged her features in what she hoped was a warm, inviting smile. Her receptionist wouldn’t have let the men in without an appointment, so they must be potential clients. As such, she couldn’t afford to offend them. She couldn’t afford to offend anyone, for that matter. In the six months since she’d opened her personal protection agency, clients hadn’t exactly lined up outside her door. So far, she’d managed to squeak by without having to lay off any of her three employees, but if business didn’t pick up soon, she might be forced to throw in the towel and admit defeat. Defeat was not in her vocabulary.

  With a big smile half-hidden by his mustache, the shorter man handed her a business card that read: Herman Perryman, Publicist, Normandy Press, New York, NY.

  New York!

  Madelyn studied the card a moment longer than necessary before summoning her professional smile again. “What brings you to Chicago, Mr. Perryman? Phoenix, Ltd. is a small agency. There are much larger, more established firms in New York.”

  Herman gestured to the tall man on his right. “Carter insisted. He says you’re the best, and if the publisher is going to require him to have a bodyguard, it has to be you.”

  His introduction gave her the excuse she’d been waiting for to direct her full attention to his companion, the man she’d been trying so hard to ignore. He was easy to look at in a rugged sort of way with short black hair beginning to curl, a scarred left brow, square jaw, and cleft chin. His was a strong face, a captivating face...a disturbingly familiar face.

  When she allowed herself to meet his gaze, she tried to swallow, but the muscles in her throat constricted. It was the eyes that did it. They were a startling, deep sea blue, nature-made to suck in the unwary. The eyes of a teller of tales, a maker of promises, a seducer of innocents. They were also the eyes of her next door neighbor.

  Technically his door was across the hall on the posh side of the building facing Lake Michigan, but since their units shared an adjoining wall at the end of the hall she figured that counted as next door.

  What did this man need with a bodyguard?

  She had seen him around the condo building several times in the past few months. He was hard not to notice with his dangerous good looks and lean, athletic build. He’d tried to make small talk in the lobby mailroom where their boxes were situated side by side, but she’d always brushed him off. He was attractive, but he wasn’t her type—or anything close to it. She’d always been more comfortable with quiet, serious men.

  During her decade in the FBI, she had been forced to rub shoulders with excess testosterone every day. Now that she was off the government clock, she had even less patience with masculine posturing. This man had a bold, self-assured charm that reminded her of the cool guys in high school who’d enjoyed tormenting bookish, self-conscious girls like her. Well, she’d come a long way since high school, but some things hadn’t changed. She’d had no time for players then, and she had no time for them now.

  He hadn’t said a word since her receptionist had ushered both men into her office, but now his lips quirked up in a half-smile and he thrust out his hand. She met it without thinking. His big, warm hand engulfed hers and shook it twice.

  “Carter Devlin, Ms. Li. It’s nice to meet you officially.”

  She nodded but refused to respond to his cocky grin. Withdrawing her hand, she turned back to Herman. “How can I help you gentlemen?”

  The publicist beamed. “As I’m sure you know, Carter is a best-selling author.”

  She drew a quick breath and studied Carter Devlin again. Best-selling author? That was the last thing she would have guessed. Race car driver or international jewel thief, maybe. But a writer? He didn’t look like the kind of man who could spend all day sitting in front of a computer. A strong aura of risk-taking crackled in the air around him.

  She lifted her gaze to meet his but kept her expression neutral. “I’m sorry. I’m not familiar with Mr. Devlin’s work.”

  Herman leaned forward with the zeal of a natural-born salesman. “He’s already the top author at Normandy Press, and his new book is going to be a blockbuster.”

  And I’m sure he has an ego to match. “I had no idea I was living next door to a celebrity.”

  Carter raised his scarred brow at her dry tone, but Herman frowned in confusion. “Next door?”

  Her suspicion ratcheted up a notch. “Didn’t Mr. Devlin tell you?”

  “No.” Herman’s frown deepened before it eased. “But that doesn’t really matter. What’s important is that you know how to protect him.”

  She returned her attention to Carter, who leaned back in his chair and stretched out lon
g, gray flannel-clad legs, the picture of innocence. What was he up to? If there was ever a man who looked like he could take care of himself, it was Carter Devlin.

  “Why does Mr. Devlin need protection?”

  “Call me Carter, please.”

  Madelyn ignored him. “Mr. Perryman?”

  “As soon as the pre-publication press announcement for his latest book, The Man Behind the Curtain, was released, the publisher began receiving threatening letters.”

  “What did they threaten?”

  “The first letter wasn’t exactly a threat, but it demanded that we cancel publication.” He bristled with indignation. “As if we would even consider such a thing. This book is going to make our year.”

  “And there were more?”

  “A couple of weeks later, another letter arrived threatening to kill Carter if he made any public appearances or statements about the book.”

  Herman paused as desperation washed over his hang-dog features. “We’re getting ready to launch a national book tour, Ms. Li. Carter has to make lots of public appearances. Nothing can happen to him.”

  He looked so distressed she was tempted to pat his hand. “I assure you, nothing will happen.”

  “Do you have experience with cases like this?”

  She hesitated, reluctant to admit most of her previous jobs had involved babysitting celebrities who were too cheap to travel with their own security. “Not exactly. This is a very interesting situation.”

  “Interesting? You consider a threat to a client’s life interesting? What kind of bodyguard are you?” Herman glared at Carter. “I thought you said she was the best.”

  Carter clasped his hands behind his head in a lazy, unconcerned stretch.

  Madelyn’s gaze followed the crisp blue oxford cloth of his shirt across the muscled contours of his chest before she realized what she was doing.

  Get a grip. The man’s a client.

  She forced her attention back to Herman. “Whoever is threatening Mr. Devlin dropped the demand to cancel publication almost immediately. It sounds as if they’re more concerned about his public statements than the content of the book.”

  “I don’t see what difference that makes.”

  “What are they afraid he might say?”

  “I have no idea. The book isn’t dangerous or controversial. It’s not an exposé. It’s just fiction.” He shot Carter an appeasing glance. “Great fiction, of course, but fiction. It’s a spy novel set in East Africa based on Carter’s years in the CIA.”

  The CIA? Her next door neighbor was a spy?

  At least that fit him better than being a writer. She glanced at Carter and was rewarded by a wicked smile that set off every warning bell in her body. If she accepted him as a client, she was in for trouble. Big time.

  Herman tapped the desk with his forefinger. “So you see why he needs a bodyguard for this book tour.”

  She nodded, still distracted by his offhanded revelation that the sinfully attractive man sitting across from her was a former spook. “How long is the tour?”

  “It begins Thursday in Washington, D.C.”

  That grabbed her attention. “This Thursday? September fourteenth? Two days from now?” She started a mental list: pick up dry cleaning, forward mail to office, arrange transportation, sign out weapon.

  He nodded. “We have six days planned in Washington, then on to Dallas and San Francisco, before returning to Chicago for the grand finale. The whole tour will take nearly a month.”

  A month. She’d never had a job lasting more than two days. Carter Devlin and his twinkling blue eyes be hanged. Mr. Hot Shot Spy might be her ticket to solvency. For four weeks of full time work, she would sign on to protect the Devil himself.

  “What does a book tour entail?”

  “Signings, interviews, receptions—that sort of thing. I can just picture you standing by Carter’s side in a black suit, sunglasses, and an earpiece. It’ll be perfect.” Herman’s voice rose with each word, and excitement sparked in his eyes.

  Madelyn cringed. If Herman had his way, he’d have her looking like a character from the movie Men in Black minus the neuralizer. She really needed the job, but his plan wasn’t going to work.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Perryman, but Phoenix, Ltd. doesn’t operate that way. We specialize in invisibility. All our agents are female, and we pride ourselves on being able to blend into any background.”

  “Blend into the background?” He sounded like a child who had dropped his ice cream cone on the sidewalk, business side down.

  “It’s the best way to provide around-the-clock security. Our agents can join a client’s staff in positions like personal chef, chauffeur, or nanny. Most people don’t notice the help, especially when they’re women.”

  Herman’s mustache drooped. “I thought the whole point of having a bodyguard was to be noticed, to intimidate the bad guys. The readers would eat it up. The book’s a thriller, so a scary-looking bodyguard would add to the buzz. Besides, someone has threatened to kill Carter. I want to be ready for anything.”

  “And we will be,” she assured him. “But it won’t be obvious to the crowd.”

  He didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know. I was really hoping for something more dramatic.”

  “Mr. Perryman, are you concerned with drama and appearance or Mr. Devlin’s safety?”

  ****

  Carter had heard enough. He’d come here on a lark, but if either of these two uttered one more word about his safety, he’d be singing soprano. “May I say something?” He made no attempt to hide his irritation.

  Madelyn and Herman turned in unison.

  Carter straightened and leaned forward. “Herman thinks I need protection, the publisher thinks I need protection, and I’m willing to go along with it, but only on my terms.”

  He pinned Herman with a sharp look. “If I agree to put up with a bodyguard, I’m not going to have some goon wearing sunglasses and an earpiece standing next to me. It’ll look like I can’t take care of myself. Why do you think we’re here?”

  “But—”

  He raised a hand. “Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t need a bodyguard. I was trained to observe and react to everything going on around me, and I’m damned good at it. That vigilance kept me alive for fifteen years. If you insist on hiring someone, it’s going to be Ms. Li, and we’ll do it her way or not at all.”

  “All right, all right.” Herman threw up his hands. “You’re the company’s prime asset. We’ll do whatever is necessary to keep you safe.”

  There was that word again. Safe. Safety was such a relative term. Right now he’d settle for distracted.

  Satisfied he’d won the first skirmish, Carter settled back and regarded Madelyn. She looked so prim and business-like in her black suit with her smooth black hair pinned up in some kind of twist. He wondered what it would take to shake her up. “You said you like your agents to have some kind of cover. What role do you see for yourself with me?”

  She tipped her head and studied him. “I suppose I could travel as your personal assistant.”

  That’s more like it. A tiny smile of satisfaction tugged at his lips. “I get a personal assistant?”

  “Why not? Mr. Perryman tells me you’re a big star.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, hot pink color suffused her cheeks, and he felt a short burst of gratification. Maybe she wasn’t such a cool, composed porcelain doll after all. Despite his best efforts, she’d treated him like a leper for months. Attractive women used to welcome his overtures. Maybe he needed to work on his approach. His technique must be rusty after spending so many years in the hellholes of the world.

  She smoothed her hands down the front of her slacks. “You’ll need someone to handle your calls and appointments and take care of the arrangements.”

  “Will you bring me coffee?” He flashed what he considered his most charming smile.

  She narrowed her eyes. “A good personal protection agent does not leave her clien
t unguarded to run mundane errands.”

  He almost laughed out loud at the ice in her tone. This might turn out to be more fun than he’d anticipated. “Would you need to be with me all the time?”

  “Not all the time, but whenever you’re not safely tucked away in your hotel room.”

  His smile widened. “I think I could get used to having a personal assistant.”

  “Excellent.” Herman beamed at them both before turning to Madelyn. “Then you’ll take the job?”

  She drew a deep breath and released it slowly. “I can be ready by Thursday.”

  Carter met the challenge in her eyes with a confident nod.

  Herman opened his briefcase and removed a folder. “Here are all the particulars—flights, hotels, and events. I’ll call our corporate travel service and have them overnight your tickets, and a car will pick you up Thursday morning.”

  A tiny muscle between her brows twitched. “I always use a Phoenix, Ltd. car driven by one of my agents.”

  Herman brushed her objection aside. “That won’t be necessary. I’ve already made the arrangements. Where shall we meet you?”

  Carter answered for her. “We’ll be in the lobby of my...er, our...building.”

  “Of course, I forgot.” Herman nodded. “Is there anything else we need to discuss before then?”

  Madelyn opened her drawer and drew out a paper. “This is our fee schedule. As you can see–”

  Herman waved it away. “Normandy Press will pay whatever you charge.” Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, he withdrew an envelope. “Here’s a check for your retainer and initial expenses.”

  The muscle between her brows twitched again. From his research, Carter knew she hadn’t been in business long. She’d probably never had a corporate client with an open checkbook. Unfortunately, if her expression was any indication, money wasn’t the key to thawing her frosty attitude. He’d have to brush the cobwebs off the old Devlin charm.

  Herman stood. “We’d better be going. Lots to do before Thursday.”