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

  Thanks to the pain pills, he slept soundly enough to give her an opportunity to call the office and get some work done while she watched him.

  ****

  Carter roused in stages. First, his brain registered the cool, smooth cotton of the sheets against his chest and back. Next, he became aware of warm light glowing through his closed eyelids. When his stomach growled, he opened his eyes and squinted against the sunlight pouring through the oversized windows. His brows drew together as he scanned the room. Then it all came back. He was in Sam Barnett’s ranch house. With a damned hole in his shoulder.

  He tried moving his left shoulder, just an inch at first. It still hurt, but with a deep ache rather than an intense burning. The pain pills must still be working. His stomach growled again. He needed to get up and eat. Rolling slowly to his right side, he found himself face-to-face with an enticing Chinese Sleeping Beauty. Breakfast could wait. With a smile, he sank back against the plump pillow to enjoy the view.

  Madelyn was unlike any woman he had ever known. Sharp and funny, she was also deadly serious when it came to work. She accepted every aspect of her job as absolute duty. The doctor had said to watch him, so watch him she would—no matter what.

  He gazed at her features and zeroed in on her mouth. He remembered kissing her and liking it. She’d kissed him back too. Or had he just imagined that? Unfortunately the pain pills blurred the details a bit, but his head was clear now.

  “Hey.” He trailed his fingers down her arm.

  She frowned without opening her eyes and jerked her arm away.

  He shook her shoulder lightly. “Hey, wake up.”

  This time her eyes popped open, and she sat up in a rush. “You’re awake.” It was more accusation than observation.

  “Yeah. So are you.” He kept his voice low and lazy.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” She scrambled off the bed and tugged her shirt into place.

  His smile widened to a grin. “So you remember.”

  Her expression remained wary. “Of course I remember.”

  “I thought you might try to pretend the kiss never happened.”

  “I’m working on it. It would be best if we both forgot. You were out of your mind. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

  “I may have been a little under the weather, but I knew exactly what I was doing.”

  Her brows shot up. “Under the weather? You were shot with an arrow.”

  “It would take a lot more than one little arrow to make me forget kissing you.”

  “Well you’d better forget it, because it’s not going to happen again.”

  “You can try telling yourself that, but we both know the truth. I want to kiss you again, and you want it too. I can see it in your eyes.” He swung his feet over the side of the bed.

  She took a quick step back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Getting up.”

  “No you’re not. You’re supposed to stay in bed.”

  He tilted his head and shot her a glance that dared her to stop him. “I’ve got to go to the john. I assume your idea of nursing duties doesn’t include emptying bed pans.”

  A deep rose color rushed to her cheeks. “Uh, no. But let me help you stand.” She reached for his arm.

  “Look, I’m starved. Why don’t you go down to the kitchen and see what you can find.”

  Her expression brightened. “The chef made fabulous chicken enchiladas for lunch. I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up, so I put a plate in the fridge for you. I’ll heat it up if you promise to get back in bed as soon as you’re done in the bathroom.”

  “Will you keep me company while I eat?”

  She nodded. “I should probably check your dressing in a little while, anyway.” She opened the door then turned. “Now be careful. Those pills might make you dizzy, and I can’t pick you up if you fall.”

  “Stop worrying. I’m fine.” He made his way to the bathroom, took care of business, and was back in bed propped up against the ornate wooden headboard by the time she returned with a loaded tray.

  The food smelled heavenly and looked even better, with gooey cheese sauce oozing across the rolled tortillas. She had even included some rice and beans. He dove in with gusto.

  Madelyn pulled a chair next to the bed. “I don’t know how you can eat like that after what you went through this morning. I had no appetite at all.”

  “Stress makes me hungry.”

  “As far as I can tell, everything makes you hungry.”

  “Seems that way, doesn’t it?” He took another bite and marveled at the complex mix of flavors. He’d had Tex-Mex food before, but nothing like this. Maybe he could talk Sam’s chef into moving north and opening a restaurant in Chicago.

  “Does your shoulder hurt?” she asked.

  “Not much, if I don’t move it.”

  She crossed her arms and pressed her lips together in a look he hadn’t seen since he’d dumped a tadpole into Sister Martha’s coffee cup in the third grade. “So tell me, why you were such a stubborn fool?”

  He choked and took a drink from the glass of water on the tray. “That’s a pretty open-ended question. You’ll need to be more specific.”

  “Why did you refuse to go to the hospital? No one with any sense pulls an arrow out of his own shoulder.”

  He set the tray aside, his appetite gone. “I hate hospitals.”

  “Everyone hates hospitals, but most people go when they need to. That’s no excuse.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Madelyn sat silently, staring at him the way women do when they’re willing a man to talk. He’d withstood enemy interrogators more than once, but he’d never been able to hold out against that feminine look for long. His mother was a master of it. After a few seconds, he broke. “On my last mission in Yemen with Syed’s sister, I was shot before we were captured.”

  Her expression softened, and she nodded, encouraging him to continue. That was another thing he liked about Madelyn, her ability to express sympathy without gushing. Not all women could do that.

  “The bullet lodged against the bone in my thigh. At the time, I thought the doctor they brought in had been ordered to torture the infidel. Looking back, he may have been doing the best he could, given the primitive conditions.”

  “Was it very painful?”

  Painful? The word hardly did justice to the experience. He ruthlessly shoved the memory to the back of his mind. “He had to dig around a while to find the bullet.”

  “And you were conscious during this?”

  “Not by the end.”

  She reached for his hand. “I’m sorry. It must have been awful.”

  He squeezed her hand before releasing it. “It was no picnic, and by the time Syed broke me out, I had a raging infection. I spent a month at Walter Reed on IV antibiotics before I could walk again.”

  “I understand why you wouldn’t want to talk about that time, but this is different. You took a big risk pulling that arrow out. You could get another infection.”

  “I won’t.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because the doctor put you in charge, and you’d never allow it.”

  A fleeting smile tipped the corners of her lips, and she sat back in the chair. “I talked to the sheriff while you were sleeping.”

  “Did they find anything?”

  “There were some tracks in the grass that looked like they might have come from an ATV, but it’s too dry to get anything definitive. Besides, the ranch hands ride around all the time on ATVs. Even if the police were able to identify the vehicle, it wouldn’t mean anything.”

  “So they’re sticking with the poacher theory?”

  She nodded. “It’s the easiest.”

  “And you don’t agree.”

  “Do you?”

  “Seems pretty unlikely, but that would mean whoever’s behind this followed us here from Washington.”

  “Or came ahead.”

  “Do you think
it was Sam or someone on his staff?” He’d been asking himself the same question.

  “Possibly, but I haven’t been able to come up with a motive. You haven’t seen Sam in fifteen years, and your book doesn’t have anything to do with your time in the Army. Besides, either the senator deserves an Academy Award, or he knew nothing about the attack today.”

  Carter agreed. “I’d have to go with the latter. I think he was as shocked to see that arrow as I was.”

  “What about Herman?”

  “Another possibility, but remote. The attack happened on private property, so it shouldn’t show up on the evening news. Besides, once again, if I’m killed there will be no more books to sell.”

  “But you weren’t killed. You were conveniently hit where it wouldn’t do much harm.”

  “That would have to have been one hell of a shot. Did Herman know about the vest?”

  She nodded. “He was in the kitchen when I came in with it yesterday afternoon.”

  “I still can’t believe he’s behind the attacks. It just doesn’t feel right.”

  “I agree, but we can’t be sure of anyone or anything. My professional recommendation is to cancel the rest of the tour and take the next flight back to Chicago.”

  He considered her proposal, but quitting didn’t feel right either. “No. I want to go on.”

  “You heard Herman. The book is selling well. You don’t need more cocktail parties and book signings to make it a success.”

  “I’m not thinking about the book. I’m thinking about catching the bastard who put the arrow in my shoulder, who took that shot at us outside the embassy. I’m fed up with this. I want to know who, and I want to know why. I refuse to go home and shut up without finding the answers.” He paused and scanned her face for a reaction. “Are you with me?”

  Her expression remained impassive, but intensity radiated from her body. “If you decide to continue the tour, I’ll stay with you. I signed on to protect you.”

  “And you never abandon your post.”

  “Never.”

  “And that’s all this is to you?”

  Her eyes darkened. “What else can it be?”

  “It can be anything we want it to be.”

  ****

  The next morning Madelyn awoke at sunrise with a dull ache behind her eyes. Yesterday had drained every ounce of energy from her body. She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep on Carter’s bed. She’d only intended to relax her back for a few minutes after sitting in the chair watching him sleep, but she didn’t remember anything from the moment her head hit the pillow until he woke her. Thank goodness she would have help for today’s event.

  Herman had scheduled a book signing at a Mammoth Mart in northeast Dallas for that afternoon, and her two other Phoenix agents were flying in to provide back-up. Zoë Hargrove and Casey Callahan would meet them at the store at one o’clock to set up.

  She wished Carter would cancel the signing today and give himself time to recuperate. Last night when she changed his dressing, he’d assured her he felt fine. But not so fine that he hadn’t popped a couple more pain pills before she left.

  She glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Six-thirty. Probably too early. She was anxious to see how his wound looked this morning but didn’t want to wake him. If she waited until she finished her morning routine, it would be soon enough.

  At seven-thirty, she knocked on his door. No answer. When she knocked again and he still didn’t answer, she unlocked the door and slipped inside. The room was warm and still with soft morning light glowing through the shades. Carter lay flat on his back with his right arm flung over his head. His hair was mussed, and dark beard sprouted from his jaw and upper lip. His bare chest rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm. A couple of bits of surgical tape peeking around his left shoulder were the only reminders of his injury.

  Madelyn was seized by a treacherous urge to climb in next to him and wake him with a kiss. There had to be a thousand good reasons to resist the temptation, but none came to mind. The tantalizing image refused to retreat. Her lips tingled with the memory of yesterday. If he kissed like that doped up on pain pills, what would happen if he were in his right mind? She might incinerate on the spot.

  She glanced back and found his eyes open and regarding her with amusement.

  “Come here,” he ordered in a devastating, morning-roughened voice.

  Heaven help her, she went.

  He took her hand and tugged until she sat beside him on the bed. “I dare you to kiss me. I know you want to.”

  “No fair.”

  “Whoever said I play fair?”

  He pulled her closer. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of his seduction, hoping it might be easier to resist if she couldn’t see him. Unfortunately blindness didn’t help. Her remaining senses responded powerfully to his warm, morning-man smell, the raspy sound of his breathing, and the strength of his hand.

  This has to stop. I’m losing my mind.

  She opened her eyes, leaned forward, and planted a resounding smack on his forehead. “Okay. There’s your kiss. Happy?”

  He dropped her hand and laughed. “Now who’s not playing fair?”

  She stepped back, her urges under control once more. “We’ve got things to do today, unless you’ve changed your mind.”

  “No, I still want to go.”

  “How does your shoulder feel?”

  “Sore.”

  “Let’s take a look.”

  He leaned forward, and she peeled off the gauze bandage and gently wiped the antibiotic ointment from the skin around the edge of the round, red hole. No infection. In fact the flesh deep in the wound appeared to be starting to knit together.

  “It looks good. You’re a fast healer.”

  “Always have been. My mother said it was the only reason I lived to graduate from high school.”

  She applied fresh ointment then taped new gauze in place.

  He craned his neck and tilted his head back to look at the bandage. “Can you get me some plastic wrap to tape over this so I can take a shower?”

  “I’ll get it from the kitchen. Don’t forget to take your pills.”

  “I’ll take the antibiotics, but I’m going to try to go without the narcotics. They make me a little loopy. You wouldn’t want me to kiss one of my readers.”

  He lifted his eyebrows twice, like Groucho Marx, and heat bloomed in Madelyn’s cheeks. This was getting annoying. She hadn’t blushed this much since high school. She turned on her heel and marched out, chased by the sounds of his laughter.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After breakfast they packed, said their farewells, and drove back to the hotel in Dallas. Madelyn was glad to put Belle Rive in the rearview mirror for a number of reasons. It certainly hadn’t proved to be the safe haven she’d hoped for when they arrived. Then there was the matter of the kiss. She and Carter needed to put it out of their minds and get their relationship back on a solid business footing. She didn’t hold out much hope on her end, but maybe a change of scenery would help.

  As they pulled into the Mammoth Mart parking lot shortly before one o’clock, she scanned the entrance for Zoë and Casey. They must have been watching for the car because they stepped through the doors together, and Zoë flashed a smile along with a brief two-fingered salute. She was a tall, lithe brunette with a chin-length bob and straight bangs who still carried a crisp, military air even though she’d been out of the service for several years.

  Casey was just the opposite. Everything about her said soft, from her peaches-and-cream complexion to her heavily-lashed green eyes. Honey-brown hair fell to her shoulders in gentle waves that mirrored the curves of her body. Neither woman looked the least bit like a traditional bodyguard, and that was just what Madelyn wanted.

  She drove to the entrance, got out, and motioned for Carter and Herman to stay in the car. After a quick conversation with her agents, Madelyn and Casey hustled the men into the building while Zoë parked the
car. They found the manager, who directed them to the book department, where a giant cardboard replica of The Man Behind the Curtain stood next to a table piled high with books.

  Herman rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be great. I just know it.”

  “I wouldn’t presume to tell you your business.” Carter glanced around at the huge variety of merchandise. “But why Mammoth Mart, of all places?”

  “It’s one of the largest retailers of books in the country, and this is one of their highest volume locations. If you want your book to be a bona fide success, you have to sell to the masses. And this is where the masses shop.”

  “I’m not much of a shopper, so I’ll take your word for it.”

  Madelyn huddled with Zoë and Casey. “Zoë, I want you on the door.” She handed her the iconic lime green vest of a greeter.

  Zoë made a face. “You might have warned me. I would have worn more appropriate shoes.”

  Madelyn glanced at the offending Italian sling backs with the spiky heels. They were classic Zoë. “As long as I’ve known you, you’ve never worn the appropriate shoes. Why start now?”

  She laughed. “My shoes are always perfect. It’s the occasions that don’t measure up.”

  “Door. Now. Here’s your communicator. Let me know if you see anything out of place. You know what to look for.”

  “Yes, Boss.” Zoe saluted again, slipped into her vest, and headed for the entrance.

  “And I told you not to call me Boss,” Madelyn shouted after her. Hopeless. Shaking her head, she turned to Casey. “I think she does that just to drive me crazy. Now I want you to pose as a stocker in electronics. Stick close, but not too close.”

  Casey nodded. “No problem.”

  Finally Madelyn turned to Herman. “I think we’re ready.”

  “I must say, I’m very impressed.”

  “Me, too.” Carter gave her a sly grin. “This must be my lucky day. Three gorgeous women, all here to take care of me.”