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

  He lay on the ground sucking air into his lungs. What the hell had happened? He couldn’t focus, and his shoulder burned. A faint noise in the background sounded like an engine starting. He rolled to his right side and pushed himself upright just as Sam wheeled up on his big black horse and jumped down.

  “Lucy, what the devil are you doing on the ground? I thought you knew how to ride.” He reached for Carter’s arm to pull him up. “Good thing that horse is so well-trained.”

  Even though Sam grabbed his right hand, the strain sent flames of agony shooting through Carter’s whole body. He gritted out an expletive between clenched teeth and jerked his hand away.

  Sam knelt beside him, his brows knit in concern. “Did you break something when you went down? I’ll call the house and have Frank phone for an ambulance.”

  “No ambulance.” Carter struggled to catch his breath. “Nothing’s broken.”

  “How can you be sure? You look like death itself, and unless you’ve turned into a wuss, you used to be able to take a lot of pain.”

  “My left shoulder.” Carter’s head spun, whether from the fall or the pain, he wasn’t sure. He sucked in as much air as he could hold then released it slowly, hoping the extra oxygen would do its job.

  “Do you think you dislocated it?” Sam leaned around to take a closer look and exclaimed, “Shoot, Lucy, you’ve got an arrow sticking out back here!”

  An arrow? The cogs in Carter’s brain lurched then caught. He’d been shot by an arrow? Un-freaking-believable. Hysterical laughter bubbled deep in his chest, but he clenched his teeth. He couldn’t lose it now. “Herman said this would be just like the Wild West, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “And you shouldn’t. Nothing like this has ever happened at Belle Rive before.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have any hostile Apaches in the neighborhood?”

  Sam didn’t smile. “Not unless they’re using modern high-powered bows.”

  He reached out to touch the arrow, and Carter flinched.

  “It looks like it broke off when you fell. You’re lucky you didn’t push it through.”

  He didn’t feel lucky. “Do people hunt with bows and arrows around here?” He had to keep talking. It forced his mind to focus on something besides the raging pain in his shoulder.

  Sam sat back on his heels. A deep scowl furrowed his brow. “I don’t, but we’ve had some trouble with poachers lately.” He stood and pulled his phone from his shirt pocket. “You sit tight. If you won’t have an ambulance, I’m at least going to call a doctor who’ll come to the ranch. Then we’ll get you back to the house.”

  Carter concentrated on breathing, paying only intermittent attention while Sam spoke to someone on his staff.

  Sam slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Laura’s calling the doctor, and a couple of the boys are on their way in the Suburban. You stay put.”

  Like he had a choice. He just hoped the doctor arrived with a bag full of serious pain pills. His shoulder hurt like a sonofabitch. He was afraid to try moving it. How much damage could an arrow do? In his Westerns, Indian arrows always dropped the enemy like stones, but he’d never had an opportunity for first hand research before now.

  He needed to lie down. He needed Sam to pull the arrow out so he could lie down. Then he remembered that in the movies they always left the arrow in to prevent excessive blood loss. Was he bleeding much? He couldn’t see. His thoughts weren’t making much sense, and if he didn’t lie down soon, he might pass out. At the moment, that sounded like a pretty good option.

  ****

  Madelyn bounced along on Foxy, her bottom slapping the saddle with every step. There had to be a trick to this. Cowboys never bounced in the movies. She could see figures ahead next to a copse of trees. Carter and Sam must have stopped to wait for the rest of the party.

  As she rode closer, she was able to make out two horses, one man standing, and one sitting on the ground. A few yards closer and she recognized Sam Barnett’s helmet of blond hair. The man on the ground must be Carter, but he didn’t appear to be resting. Something about his posture was wrong.

  Her heart stopped in her chest, then lurched back into rhythm. She kicked Foxy’s sides and slapped the reins. The mare launched into a full gallop, and Madelyn hung on for dear life. When they neared the men, she yanked the reins with all her strength, and the horse jerked to a halt. She snapped forward in the saddle, but grabbed the horn and managed to keep her seat. She clambered down and raced over to kneel beside Carter.

  The broken end of an arrow protruded from the back of his left shoulder. She stared at it blankly. An arrow. He couldn’t have an arrow in his flesh. Who gets shot with an arrow? It had to be fake. There was almost no blood on his shirt. She touched it, and Carter swore violently. The arrow was real, all right.

  She glared at Sam. “How did this happen?”

  The senator ran a hand through his perfect hair, leaving it still perfect. “I’ll be damned if I know. I didn’t see or hear anyone. Lucy was behind me. I turned around, and he was on the ground. I’m guessing it was poachers. We’ve had some around here for the past few months.”

  “I heard an engine,” Carter ground out between clenched teeth. “From over there somewhere.” He jerked his chin toward the small grove of oaks. “Right after I was hit.”

  “An engine?” Sam scanned the trees. “I don’t see anything now. I’ll have my security staff search the area with the sheriff when he arrives.”

  “You called the sheriff?”

  “You bet I did. I’ve got to report a thing like this. I can’t have it get out in the press that I’m hiding anything. Everything’s got to be completely above board.”

  Even if Sam’s first thought had been to avoid a scandal, Madelyn was glad he’d called the authorities. Maybe they would find some useful evidence. She refused to believe this was the work of poachers.

  “Did you call an ambulance?”

  “Lucy wouldn’t let me, but I’ve got a doctor coming to the house.”

  A black Suburban roared across the pasture and pulled up beside them. Frank the foreman and Mr. Secret Service climbed out.

  She slid her arm around Carter’s back, careful to avoid his injured shoulder and the arrow. A wave of nausea rolled over her. “Do you think you can stand?”

  “We’ll take care of him, Ms. Li,” Mr. Secret Service said.

  He and Frank got Carter to his feet and supported him on the short walk to the car. Carter’s face was pale, but he didn’t make a sound. Madelyn climbed in beside him and slid her arm behind his back to keep him from leaning against the broken arrow. As soon as the door clicked shut, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back.

  She clutched his hand, never taking her eyes from his face as they bounced across the open field. Her muscles tensed with every bump. She wished she could absorb the jolts and spare him further pain. Only an occasional squeeze from his hand betrayed any discomfort.

  Someone must have alerted Herman and helped him dismount, because he met them at the back door. She had never actually seen anyone wring their hands before, but Herman twisted his like a wet dishrag.

  “How could this happen? I can’t believe it. Is he going to be all right? What are we going to do?”

  “I’m fine.” Carter approached, supported by Frank and the security chief.

  “He’s not fine,” Madelyn snapped. “Is the doctor here yet?”

  Laura stepped forward. “He should be here any minute.” She glanced at Sam. “And the sheriff’s waiting in your office.”

  “Boys, help Lucy over to the kitchen table. If the doctor wants him lying down, we can take care of that when he gets here. I’m going to talk to the sheriff.”

  They eased Carter onto a chair, and Madelyn sat beside him. Herman fluttered around, unable to settle. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang, the front door opened and closed, and voices came down the hall toward the kitchen. Laura stepped into the room with a well-dressed, middle-aged man with a f
ive hundred dollar haircut and an umpteen thousand dollar watch. He looked more like a cardiac surgeon from a prestigious big city clinic than a country doctor who made house calls. Perhaps it depended on whose house it was.

  “This is Dr. Kitteridge.”

  The doctor smiled. “This must be the patient.” He set his bag on the table and leaned down to examine Carter’s shoulder. “Hmm. Hunting accident?”

  Carter grunted. “Sort of.”

  “Well, let’s see what we’ve got here.” The doctor took a pair of surgical scissors from his bag and began cutting Carter’s shirt off. He stopped abruptly and frowned. “You must have been expecting trouble.”

  He had exposed the shoulder strap of the bulletproof vest. Sam’s retainer must have been enough to guarantee discretion because he asked no further questions as he continued snipping until the remnants of the shirt had been removed. Next he cut through the strap of the vest, and Madelyn helped remove it as gently as possible. Carter sat perfectly still until the heavy vest lay on the table, then he took a slow, deep breath.

  The doctor examined the arrow from several angles then straightened. “You’re a lucky man. The arrow appears to have gone straight into the fleshy part of the muscle below the joint just to the left of the scapula. If it had hit bone, it might have shattered it, and you wouldn’t be sitting here so quietly.”

  “How deep is it?”

  “Hard to tell. I don’t know how long the arrow was to begin with. Can you make a fist?”

  Carter stretched his fingers then clenched them.

  The doctor removed a small pointed instrument from his bag. “Tell me if you feel this.” He worked his way down Carter’s arm poking the skin. Seemingly satisfied with the responses, he put the instrument away. “There doesn’t appear to be any nerve damage.”

  “Can you get it out?” Carter asked.

  “It shouldn’t be too much of a problem, but we’ll need to go to the Emergency Room.”

  “Can’t you just do it here?”

  “This isn’t a sterile environment, and I don’t have everything I need.”

  “The doctor’s right.” Madelyn stepped forward. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

  “No hospitals.”

  “Be reasonable. You can’t just leave that thing in there.”

  “I’m not going to a hospital.”

  “Carter, don’t be—“

  Without a word, he reached over his left shoulder with his right hand and ripped the arrow from his flesh. She stared in horror as the room began to spin, and everything went black.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Madelyn opened her eyes slowly and blinked against the bright light. When she tried to sit up, her stomach lurched. She turned her head to check her surroundings but flinched at the sudden, sharp pain. With tentative fingers, she probed the side of her head and discovered an exquisitely tender lump.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She twisted to find Laura Burns seated on a chair beside her. She was lying on one of the large leather sofas in the living room. “What happened?”

  “You fainted.”

  Impossible. She’d never fainted in her life. Not when she’d broken her arm falling off the balance beam in junior high gymnastics. Not when she’d been stuck in an overheated elevator for six hours during a power outage. Not even when she’d been called to the scene of a multiple homicide. Why would she faint now?

  “He’s doing fine,” Laura said.

  Who? What? Oh, yes. Carter. The arrow. Madelyn’s stomach rolled over again.

  “The doctor’s cleaning the wound. It doesn’t look too bad, but it’s going to hurt like the devil.”

  “Where is he?”

  “They’re still in the kitchen. There wasn’t too much blood, even after Devlin jerked the arrow out.”

  Only a big, fat, stubborn idiot would refuse to go to the hospital. She’d better get back in there before he decided to take out his own appendix for good measure.

  “He’s quite a man. I can understand your feelings for him.”

  Madelyn frowned and compressed her lips. “He’s my client, as I’m sure you know. Nothing more.”

  Laura gave an indelicate snort of disbelief. “If you say so.”

  So much for her sophisticated, feminine veneer. Apparently the old Laura still lingered just below the surface. Madelyn wished she had a suitable retort, but in her befuddled state nothing came to mind. She swung her legs around to sit up.

  Her head had cleared, and she felt reasonably normal as long as she didn’t touch the bump. After a couple of unsteady steps, she regained her equilibrium and made her way back to the kitchen, where the doctor was taping a large bandage over the back of Carter’s shoulder.

  Dr. Kitteridge looked up from his work with a smile. “Feeling better?”

  “Um, yes. Sorry for the theatrics. That’s never happened before.”

  She avoided the eyes of the other men in the room. She was the bodyguard. She was supposed to be tough, the last line of defense between her client and the bad guys. Instead, she’d fainted like a girl.

  “Completely understandable,” the doctor assured her. “It’s not every day I see an arrow sticking out of somebody either. Your friend was lucky. The wound is deep, but the arrow didn’t hit anything vital. The challenge will be to keep it clean and open so it can heal from the inside. The dressing will need to be changed regularly.”

  She met Carter’s gaze. “I can do that.”

  “I’ve given him a shot of antibiotics and packed the wound, but you’ll need to keep a close eye on it for signs of infection and make sure he takes his medication.”

  “I can do that.”

  The doctor returned his instruments to the bag. “Good. I’ve given him a couple of pain pills, so he’ll probably fall asleep shortly. It would be best if someone stayed with him for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “I can do that too.”

  “Excellent.” He turned to shake Carter’s right hand. “It looks like you’re in good hands. Senator Barnett knows how to reach me if there are any complications.”

  “Thank you, doctor.” Carter’s voice wavered.

  Sam left to walk the doctor to the door, and Madelyn turned to the men who had brought Carter in. “Can you help him upstairs?”

  “Sure thing.” Frank reached for his good arm.

  “I can walk.” He pushed his chair back from the table. “I’m fine now that I’ve got that damned arrow out of my shoulder.”

  “We’re done taking chances.” Madelyn crossed her arms. If he thought she was bossy—tough. She’d come much too close to losing him.

  The men helped Carter upstairs to his room then left, closing the door behind them.

  “Do you want to lie down?”

  “Desperately.”

  She pulled back the coverlet. “Sit and I’ll take off your boots.”

  His eyes sparked, but he obeyed. “I could get used to this.”

  “No, you couldn’t.”

  She knelt in front of him, grabbed the heel of his left boot with both hands, and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. She pulled harder. Then harder. Finally it popped off, but the force toppled her backwards onto her behind. She glanced at Carter, expecting laughter, but his eyes were closed. The second boot was no easier, but at least she managed to stay upright. When both boots were both off, she stood.

  “Now get in bed.”

  He slowly opened his eyes, slid both arms around her, and pulled her to stand between his thighs. “What about my pants?” His voice was low, seductive, and slightly slurred.

  “What about them?”

  “I’d be much more comfortable without them.”

  She peered into his eyes. The pupils were dilated, and the lids kept sliding down. “You’ll be fine with your pants on.” She stepped aside and pushed gently against his shoulders to guide him down.

  “Lie with me.” He patted the bed.

  “No.”

  “I’m injured. I n
eed looking after. The doc said so.”

  “You’re delirious.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She froze. No man had ever said that to her before. Not the gentle Chinese grad student who had been her first lover. Not the overworked emergency room doctor she’d broken up with last year. Not even her own father. And now this man with his brilliant blue eyes and sexy smile was telling her she was beautiful. It had to be the pain pills.

  He tugged her hand. “Come on.”

  “I can’t.” If she did, she’d be lost.

  He must have read her thoughts. “Come on. You’ll be safe. I don’t have enough energy to cause trouble.”

  “You’re a client.”

  “So what?”

  “So I can’t.”

  “A kiss then. One kiss, that’s all. To help me sleep.”

  He drew her slowly toward him. And heaven help her, she went. He pulled until she bent over him with one hand braced on the pillow beside his head. With their faces inches apart, he released her other hand and slid his fingers into her hair, drawing her down until their lips met.

  His hand cupped the back of her head, holding it in place while his mouth worked its magic. It wasn’t a forceful, dominating kiss. The drugs saw to that. But all the painkillers in the world couldn’t dull the pure seductive power. His lips stroked and nibbled, begged and promised. And she responded. She had no choice. She could no longer think. She could only feel.

  And then it was over. All too soon, yet not soon enough, his lips released hers, and his hand dropped from the back of her head. He smiled drowsily. “See, I told you. Nothing scary about it.”

  He was wrong, so wrong.

  His lids drifted down. “I have to sleep now.”

  Madelyn watched his muscles relax and his breathing slow. She was tempted to leave him as he was, but that would be selfish. As much as she enjoyed the sight of his bare chest with its well-defined muscles and sprinkling of dark hair, the steady draft from the air conditioner would soon chill him. With a shaky breath, she took one last look and pulled the covers up to his chin.