Unwritten Rules (Phoenix, Ltd. Book 1) Page 15

  Carter’s casual expression didn’t change. “Some nut job has been sending my publisher threatening letters, so the boss insisted on hiring a bodyguard for the tour.” He sent Madelyn a condescending smile. “I couldn’t very well object to one as decorative as Ms. Li, now could I?”

  Decorative? Decorative?? She didn’t care if his crack was part of an act for Sam’s benefit. If the unknown assailant didn’t kill him, she might have to do it herself.

  “From what I understand, Ms. Li is far more than decorative.”

  “Thank you, Senator.” She refused to look at Carter. “I hope you understand I have to insist on certain security protocols and precautions.”

  “No problem. You can talk to my head of security and work things out.” Sam laughed and slapped his knee. “Lucy with a bodyguard. You’ve got to admit, this is a pretty darned comical turn of events.”

  Carter’s smile soured. “I’m glad you’re amused.”

  Madelyn rose. “Senator, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak with your head of security before the guests arrive.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll call him now.” He picked up what must have been a house phone sitting on the coffee table and asked the man on the other end to meet them in the foyer.

  An hour later, she climbed the stairs to the guest wing, satisfied the security arrangements for the party were in good hands. It was a relief to talk to another professional, and Sam Barnett’s security chief was a consummate professional. From his buzz cut to his no-nonsense demeanor, everything about him screamed ex-Secret Service. Clearly, Sam could afford the best, and at the moment she was glad.

  She wasn’t sure which room she’d been assigned, so she wandered down the hall peering into one spectacular bedroom after another, hoping to spot her luggage. The furniture was a designer’s version of over-the-top Tuscan, and a crystal chandelier sparkled from the center of each ceiling.

  She finally spied her suitcase and stepped into the room when a pair of big hands gave her shoulders a slight shove and the door clicked behind her.

  She spun around braced for a fight and found herself face-to-chest with Carter. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Shh. I want to talk to you.”

  “Well I’m not sure I want to talk to you,” she hissed. “Was it absolutely necessary to describe me to a U.S. senator as decorative?”

  A deep, masculine dimple appeared briefly then vanished. “Your cover might be blown, but I’d like Sam to think the whole bodyguard business is just a lark, if possible. He doesn’t need to know the details.”

  “Don’t you trust him?”

  “I don’t know. I never used to think he was smart enough to worry about. Fifteen years ago, Chick was the one to watch.”

  “In what way?”

  “Word was the two of them were dabbling in the black market while we were stationed in the Middle East, nothing large scale, mostly military stores. A case of something would go missing here and there. I always figured Chick dragged Sam into it.”

  “And now Sam’s drowning in money and running for president.”

  “So it seems.”

  “With Chick and Laura right behind him.”

  Carter nodded. “I’m not sure what to make of it, but I learned years ago to trust my instincts, and they’re screaming now.”

  “I know what you mean. I’m getting strange vibes too. I can’t get over the change in Laura. She used to be a very tough agent, completely focused on getting ahead. Now she’s Little Miss Charm School.”

  “Since Sam is single, maybe one of her official duties is to serve as his hostess.”

  She measured the possibility against what she remembered of Laura. “I wonder if she’s having an affair with him. It wouldn’t be the first time she used sex to get what she wanted. I remember the time I saw her slipping out of the physical training instructor’s room at two in the morning at the Academy. Her scores improved dramatically after that.”

  “She’s an attractive woman, and Sam always did have an eye for the ladies.”

  “Laura’s not your average lady.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Carter rubbed his jaw. “If she’s as ambitious as you say, maybe she’s hoping for a plum appointment in the future Barnett White House.”

  Madelyn considered the possibility. “That sounds more like the Laura I knew. She wasn’t the type to be content as a secretary, even a senator’s secretary. But her current job wouldn’t qualify her for anything beyond chief of protocol.”

  “Well, if there’s anything going on between the two of them on a personal level, I haven’t seen the telltale signs.”

  “He’s a U.S senator. What do you expect him to do, slap her on the behind in front of guests? Maybe he has manners and a little class.”

  “Senator or no senator, does Sam Barnett strike you as classy?”

  Rich? Certainly. Classy? Questionable at best. “To tell the truth, he kind of creeps me out.”

  “Exactly. He’s a nice enough guy, but something’s always a little off.”

  “I’ll be glad when the party is over and we’re out of this house and back at the hotel.”

  “You just don’t want to go riding in the morning.”

  “There’s that too,” she admitted.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  She glanced at her feet. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “Now the truth comes out.” His blue eyes twinkled. “Maybe Laura could find you a nice Annie Oakley costume. Herman would love it. He’s always trying to dress you up.”

  She smiled and batted her lashes twice. “And maybe she could find some furry cowhide chaps and a ten gallon hat for you. You could wear them tonight. With luck Herman will have the place packed with photographers.” Then she glanced at her watch.

  Five-thirty. Yikes!

  She grabbed Carter’s arm and dragged him to the door. “You’ve got to get out of here. The guests will start arriving soon.” She shoved him into the hallway and locked the door.

  Twenty minutes later she stood in front of the open closet in her underwear trying to decide what to wear. What was appropriate for a barbecue that was nothing fancy? She didn’t have much choice. It was black, black, or black. Maybe Carter was right. Maybe she did need to expand her color horizons. In deference to the heat, she chose loose silk slacks with a matching jacket, a silk tank, and low sandals.

  Before heading downstairs, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and hesitated. She’d always considered black sophisticated, the perfect neutral, but the woman frowning back at her looked more like a ninja. All she needed were the mask and sword. She released her breath in a huff. Shopping held all the appeal of a root canal, but one day soon she would have to suck it up and buy some new clothes.

  Laura was irritatingly chic in a turquoise sheath dress with matching stilettos and bright, chunky jewelry. Was that really what one wore to a Texas barbecue? The remaining guests wore standard country club attire with lots of big, expensive jewelry—the kind of baubles that could set a jewel thief up for life.

  Madelyn spent the next five hours at Carter’s side, nibbling a plate of pulled pork smothered in tangy red sauce while trying to keep her face and fingers clean. The chef wore a bandana and full leather chaps like a movie-style cowboy. His appearance might be theatrical, but she had to hand it to him—the food was excellent. Maybe not as good as Grandma Li’s Chinese barbecued pork, but what was?

  She scanned the crowd, on the lookout for anything unusual, but it was a relief to have help from Mr. Secret Service and his staff. The men stationed strategically around the patio and pool wore tiny earpieces with coiled wires that hung down behind their ears and disappeared beneath their collars. Herman was beside himself.

  While she didn’t want that look for herself or her employees, having several operatives at a large function like this was a real advantage. She’d have to check the schedule for the rest of the tour. If any similar events were planned, she would cal
l the office and arrange for her two agents to fly out and join her.

  She had no idea how many books Herman managed to sell to the well-moneyed crowd, but when the party was over and they gathered in the living room, he collapsed onto one of the sofas with a big grin beneath his mustache.

  “That was great, Senator. Absolutely fantastic. I can’t thank you enough for arranging this party. The Man Behind the Curtain is going to be the talk of Dallas tomorrow.”

  “No problem, no problem at all. But I can’t take any of the credit. Chick and Laura handled the whole affair.”

  “And they did a wonderful job. Thank you both.” Herman smiled widely at the pair.

  “We’re happy to do what we can to keep Devlin out of the poorhouse,” Chick replied.

  Herman laughed, but Carter didn’t join him.

  Sam rose to his feet. “Well, you all had better turn in if you want to be sharp for our ride tomorrow morning. Breakfast’s at eight, and we head out at nine.”

  “I can hardly wait.” Herman vibrated with excitement.

  “And how about you, Ms. Li? Are you a rider?”

  She managed a weak smile. “I’m afraid I’m a city girl, Senator.”

  He patted her shoulder. “We’ll have to see what we can do to remedy that. I’m sure you’ll love riding.”

  Madelyn was equally sure she wouldn’t.

  At seven forty-five the next morning, she once again stood in front of her closet and contemplated her limited clothing options for the day. Why hadn’t she thought to trip on the stairs and sprain her ankle the night before? A person couldn’t ride a horse with a sprained ankle, could they? A sharp rap on the door startled her. She snatched a robe from the closet and stuffed her arms in the sleeves.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s Rosalia, ma’am, one of the maids. I have some clothes for you from Ms. Burns.”

  Madelyn remembered Carter’s quip. If he’d put Laura up to this, he would pay big time. She opened the door, and a short, sturdy woman bustled in with a pile of folded clothes, a pair of boots, and a straw cowboy hat.

  “Here you are, ma’am. Ms. Burns thought these would be about your size. We keep extra clothes at the ranch in case guests stay over and want to ride.”

  “Thank you, Rosalia. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

  Five minutes later, Madelyn sent a mental thank-you to Laura, whether she had sent the clothes out of kindness or not. The jeans were a bit loose, and the plaid shirt reminded her of Howdy Doody, but the boots fit well enough and were much more appropriate than any of her own shoes. She popped the hat on her head, cinched the cord, and grinned at her reflection.

  It was a good thing her parents were still in Paris and her mother couldn’t see her now. An elegant Parisian, Maman had been born with the natural chic American women envied but could never emulate. Madelyn had never bothered to try. At the moment, she’d never looked sillier in her life, but at least she was comfortable.

  She knocked on Carter’s door and held her breath, waiting for his laughter. He opened the door and let his gaze drift from the top of her hat to the toes of her boots. His eyes crinkled, and a smile twitched around his lips.

  “I brought something for you too.” She handed him a bulky bulletproof vest. “I borrowed it from Sam’s chief of security. He assured me it wouldn’t be necessary here on the ranch, but I convinced him to humor me.”

  He held the vest at arm’s length. “I can’t wear this. I’ll look ridiculous.”

  “Wear it under your shirt.”

  “I’ll have a heat stroke.”

  “Better that than a bullet through the heart.”

  He eyed her suspiciously. “Is this payback for those clothes?”

  She lifted her chin and gave him a haughty glance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I always pack these in case I’m invited to a hoedown.”

  His smile sneaked through. “It never hurts to plan ahead.”

  She gestured to the vest. “Hurry up and put it on. We’re late for breakfast.”

  “You expect me to eat in this thing?”

  “That’s your choice. Now hurry up.”

  He jerked open the buttons on his shirt, tossed it on the bed, and rummaged through a dresser drawer until he found a white T-shirt. The muscles in his back stretched and flexed as he pulled the shirt over his head, and Madelyn breathed a soft sigh of regret when he tugged it into place and strapped the vest over it.

  When he finished buttoning his shirt, he faced her with his hands on his hips. “There. Satisfied?”

  She sobered. “Only partly. I wish I had a helmet for you, but this will have to do.”

  A slow smile teased his lips then made its way to his bold blue eyes. “You’re bossy, and you worry too much.”

  His gruff-edged voice sent a tiny shiver rippling through her body.

  “It goes with the territory,” she replied with studied nonchalance.

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, and she froze. As the seconds ticked by, her nerves tightened, and her tongue slipped out to moisten her lips. Tension crackled in the air.

  He slid a hand behind her back and tugged her toward him until she pressed against the stiff Kevlar vest. “I think I deserve a reward for being so cooperative.”

  She should put him in his place before his voice alone seduced her into doing something she’d regret. She raised her head to object, but before she could utter a word, he met her halfway. At the last second, she turned her head to dodge his lips.

  He nuzzled her cheek. “How about a little pre-breakfast treat?”

  His warm breath raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck and tightened her nipples. This had to stop, or he would reduce her prized self-control to a puddle of goo in about three seconds.

  “You should save your appetite for the chef’s cinnamon rolls.”

  He nibbled the curve of her ear. “Don’t worry. I have room for both.”

  She pushed against his chest with both hands. “If we’re not downstairs in five minutes, Herman will be banging on the door.”

  Carter eased back. “Okay. You win—this time. Let’s eat.”

  On the way out of the room, he sneaked in a lingering pat on her jeans-clad bottom.

  Herman had been the recipient of a clothing delivery too. His shirt and jeans were even looser than hers, and a huge silver belt buckle threatened to topple him with its weight.

  “Isn’t this great?” He held it for her to admire. “The senator lent it to me. It’s a rodeo championship buckle one of the ranch hands won for bull riding.”

  She wished she could be as excited about the morning’s ride has Herman, but horses intimidated her. She’d never even sat on a pony as a child. Her apprehension increased when they trooped out to the stable and Sam introduced her to a bay mare named Foxy. She hoped the name referred to the mare’s reddish brown color and not to her temperament. Madelyn wanted slow and steady. Why couldn’t Sam have given her a horse named Pokey?

  Herman was assigned a short, stout gray, and Carter chose a spirited appaloosa. Sam mounted an impressive black stallion that could have been straight out of a Zorro movie.

  Foxy stamped nervously as the foreman tightened the cinch and adjusted the stirrups. “Show her who’s boss, and you’ll be fine.” He patted the horse’s rump.

  Madelyn was sure the horse knew exactly who was boss.

  “Guide her with your knees and the reins, left and right like this.” The foreman demonstrated. “She won’t run unless you kick her.”

  No kicking. No problem.

  She gripped the saddle horn and reins in both hands and tightened her knees against Foxy’s sides. She was in good shape, so her thigh muscles didn’t scream from the strain, but they did make rude comments. She grimaced. A few hours of this and she wouldn’t be able to stand for a week.

  Herman held the reins, one in each hand, and kept pulling back and yelling, “whoa, whoa”, while his horse pranced in circles. The foreman left Madelyn and went to
attend to him.

  “Lucy and I are heading out,” Sam announced. “You all catch up when you can.” He flashed Carter a challenging grin. “Come on, Lucy. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  He kicked the stallion’s sides and blasted out of the stable yard and across the open field with Carter in hot pursuit.

  Madelyn glanced back at Herman. She didn’t want to leave him, but she couldn’t let Carter get so far ahead. Despite the bulletproof vest and apparent safety of the ranch, he was still her responsibility. He and Sam were already small, dark specks fading into the sea of tawny grass.

  “Herman, I’ve got to catch up with Carter.”

  “Go on. I’ll be right behind you.” He gestured with one hand, but it still held one of the reins, and the confused horse spun to the right. “Whoa! Whoa!”

  Nudging Foxy with her knees, Madelyn pulled the reins to point her in the direction Sam and Carter had taken. The well-trained horse started off at a sedate walk. When she nudged harder with her heels, Foxy shifted seamlessly to a trot, and Madelyn’s backside lost contact with the saddle. She smacked the hard leather again with a jarring thud, and her feet flew out of the stirrups. The next bounce was even worse because nothing connected her to the horse except the reins in her hands.

  “Grip with your knees,” the foreman yelled. “Get your feet back in the stirrups.”

  She tried, but it was nearly impossible against the wild, uncontrollable rhythm. Finally, she managed to snag the left stirrup with the toe of her boot before following with the right. She gripped the horse’s sides and cursed Herman and Carter for agreeing to this lunacy. It was hard to believe people did this for fun.

  ****

  Carter leaned low over the appaloosa’s neck as he galloped after Sam. The movement of the horse’s powerful muscles beneath his thighs and the sheer speed of the run stirred his blood and freed his mind. This was the release he craved after the stresses of the past week. Smiling his way through another party was a small price to pay for a full-out run on the back of such a magnificent animal.

  He was gaining on Sam when they raced past a small grove of burr oaks surrounded by scrubby undergrowth. Suddenly a bolt of fire slammed into the back of his left shoulder, pitching him forward. That movement, along with his shout, caused the horse to pull up, and Carter pitched forward, landing on his back in the grass. A searing pain nearly blinded him before something snapped.