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

  “Another deputy found the Mercedes abandoned about five miles down the highway. There was no sign of the driver.”

  She glanced at Carter, and his frown mirrored her frustration. When were they going to catch a break?

  “The vehicle showed signs of damage that corroborate your account. We’ll have it towed and processed.”

  “Thank you very much, officer.” Carter shook the man’s hand.

  “We’ll be in touch if we find anything.”

  The adrenaline had burned itself out, leaving Madelyn empty and deflated.

  Carter’s hand touched the small of her back. “Let’s find our rooms.”

  “Good idea,” Herman said. “I could use a swim. We’ve got three hours before our dinner meeting with Cy Westbrook.”

  Having seen Herman in gym shorts, Madelyn had no desire for a repeat viewing that exposed even more skin. She scanned Carter’s face. He was pale again, and fine lines of strain fanned out from the corners of his eyes. The stress of the chase had burned through the last pain pill in record time. “We’ll stay in our rooms. Carter needs to rest.”

  “Not me,” he said. “I could wrestle and alligator.”

  “Well there are no alligators here, so don’t argue with me.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” His tight half-smile proved her point.

  They returned to the car, and using the map from the desk clerk, Madelyn followed the drive to the building that housed their rooms. She helped Herman unload the luggage then followed Carter to his room. While he unlocked the door, she drew her weapon.

  “Wait here.” She inched the door open with her Glock.

  “I’m not helpless.”

  Her gaze met his. “No, but you’re not at the top of your game either.”

  “I’ve played with worse pain.”

  “I’m sure you have, but not today. Now let me do my job.”

  He regarded her for a moment then pushed the door open. “Be my guest.”

  She made quick work of her search. “It’s clear.”

  He walked in and dumped his laptop bag on the king-sized bed where it sank into the puffy down duvet. “Nice place.”

  The room was all stone, wood, and glass, with hewn limestone floors, a fireplace, and a wall of windows leading to a private deck overlooking the ocean. It projected a deep sense of peace and calm. Too bad they weren’t staying a week instead of a night. Carter needed more time to rest and heal.

  She needed more time too. “I’ll put my bags in my room. Then I want to look at your shoulder.”

  She returned to find him standing at the windows, staring out at the sea. The sun peeked through a few low clouds just above the horizon, its rays gilding the water and mountainside with a luminous golden glow. Her heart swelled with gratitude, accompanied by relief. Carter was alive and whole and standing in front of her instead of lying broken in a crumpled heap of metal at the bottom of Bixby Creek Canyon.

  “You know, there’s a hot tub out here,” he observed.

  “I have one on my deck too.”

  He turned and lifted his scarred brow suggestively. “We’ve got a couple of hours.”

  After what they’d been through, a nice long soak would be heaven. Temptation gnawed at her, but she beat it back. “It wouldn’t be good for your shoulder. Now sit down, and let me check it.”

  “You’re no fun.” He unbuttoned his shirt and sat on one of the two chairs.

  “I’m not supposed to be fun. I’m supposed to be tough.” As soon as the words left her mouth, the truth of them sank in. A month ago that self-definition would have satisfied her. Now it was no longer enough.

  “Tough can be fun.” He didn’t turn his head.

  Could it? How?

  She peeled back the paper tape holding the gauze pad that covered his wound. “Turn closer to the lamp.” She peered at the round, red hole and poked the surrounding skin gently. “How does your shoulder feel?”

  “Like someone shot an arrow into it.”

  “It seems to be healing well. I don’t see any signs of infection. I’ll re-bandage it, and you can take a nap before dinner.”

  She cleaned the wound before applying more antibiotic ointment and a new bandage. “It wouldn’t hurt to take another pain pill. It might help you sleep.”

  He slipped off his shoes and eased down on top of the duvet. “I don’t think I’ll need it.” He closed his eyes with a sigh.

  As Madelyn turned to leave, his hand caught her wrist. “Stay with me.” His voice stroked her like velvet against bare skin.

  She turned, only to be snared by sea-blue eyes that focused on her with breathtaking intensity. A tiny kernel of panic unfurled in her chest, and she pulled her hand away. “You don’t need me. You’ll be safe by yourself.”

  “I do need you, and it has nothing to do with safety.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Madelyn looked as wary as a doe cornered by a hungry wolf. Too bad he was all out of wolf. “Don’t worry. I’m too tired to bite.” Carter patted the bed beside him. “Lie down. I’ll sleep better if you’re here, and you look like you’re about to drop.”

  That was no lie. The soft purple smudges around her eyes had nothing to do with makeup, and her usual near-military bearing had lost its starch.

  She wavered.

  “Stay with me. I don’t want to be alone, and neither do you.”

  “How do you know what I want?”

  “Quit arguing and come over here.”

  “I’m not arguing. I’m too tired.”

  “I know. Come here.”

  She drifted toward the bed. “Just for a little while, until you’re asleep.”

  Stretching out beside him, she sank into the soft cover. Her eyes closed, and an expression of pure bliss settled across her face.

  “Better set the alarm,” she mumbled. Then she was out.

  He shifted to his side to get a better view. In sleep, her hard edges softened. She looked younger, more vulnerable, her parted lips an invitation.

  What would happen if he kissed her now? She would probably fling him to the floor with one of her martial arts moves. A sharp throb from his shoulder advised him to hold off until she was awake and willing. One day soon, the time would be right. He would make it right.

  He rolled to his back. Leaden exhaustion pulled him down into the mattress and dragged at his eyelids. He’d better take her advice about the alarm clock, or they were likely to sleep through the dinner meeting. If they failed to show, Herman might call out the National Guard.

  Two hours later, Carter surfaced in a pool of mellow jazz. He blinked, trying to orient himself. It must be the radio on the alarm clock. He hadn’t thought to leave a lamp on or light the fire. Dusky shadows filled the room, and the air held the chilly bite of autumn. His right side, however, was toasty warm, and his arm enveloped the source of that heat. He glanced down without moving.

  Silky black hair brushed his chin. Madelyn lay tucked against his chest with her head pillowed on his good shoulder.

  Unbelievable. He’d made more progress with her asleep than awake. Even though it hadn’t been a conscious decision, she’d sought him out, and he’d slept through it. Talk about unfair. He glanced at the clock. They didn’t have to meet Herman for an hour. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

  He shifted and reached around with his left hand to brush aside the wing of hair that had fallen across her forehead. The movement sent a shaft of pain through his shoulder, and he sucked in a quick breath between clenched teeth.

  She stirred and jerked forward. “Ouch!”

  “What?”

  “You’re lying on my hair.”

  Way to go, Mr. Smooth. He sighed and released her.

  She sat up, rubbing the side of her head. “What was I doing there?”

  “Trying to keep warm.”

  “You could have pulled a blanket over me.”

  “I was asleep too.”

  She scooted to the side of the bed, switched on a lamp, and rega
rded him through narrowed eyes. “Are you sure you didn’t lie there watching me sleep?”

  He couldn’t suppress a smile. She was so cute with her grumpy face and strands of hair sticking to her cheek. “Cross my heart.”

  She leaned around him to check the clock. “We have to get moving. We only have forty-five minutes to shower and change for dinner.” She clambered off the bed and headed for the door.

  “What about my shoulder?”

  “What about it?”

  “I’m not supposed to get the bandage wet.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I could use some help.”

  She jammed her hands on her hips. “I am not going to bathe you.”

  “Are you sure? Sounds like fun to me.”

  She glanced at the ceiling and seemed to be muttering in Chinese, though he couldn’t swear to it. “There’s plastic wrap in your suitcase. I’ll tape some over your bandage then you’re on your own.”

  She accomplished her nursing chore with brisk, efficient movements and left for her room next door. Carter hummed to himself while he shaved. Madelyn was so guarded, he had no idea how she felt about him. If nothing else, he knew he got under her skin. One day soon he would find a way to get deeper.

  By the time she knocked on his door, he’d been ready for twenty minutes and had eaten two bags of pretzels from the mini bar. She wore another new outfit, this time a turquoise silk blouse and brown slacks. Her hair was fastened at the crown with some kind of elaborate Asian pin and hung straight and loose down her back. “You look great.”

  She scanned him from head to toe. “I see you managed to clean up on your own.”

  “How do you know I didn’t talk the maid into helping me?”

  “Are you bilingual in Blarney and Spanish?”

  The nap and shower had worked their magic. She was herself again.

  “I’m a man of many talents.”

  “I know you have a talent for eating. Let’s go.”

  When they reached the car, Herman was waiting, dancing with excitement. “I can’t believe I scored dinner with Cy Westwood. For the last few years he’s lived like a recluse in his Big Sur compound.”

  “He must have seen something special in Carter’s story.” Madelyn shifted into reverse and backed onto the resort’s main road.

  “He loved it, loved it. This is going to be big.” Herman pulled his small notebook from his jacket pocket. “Now during dinner—”

  “I’ll let you do the talking,” Carter replied.

  “No, no. I need you to be charming...and dangerous. Can you look more dangerous?”

  “Sorry. I left my eye patch in the room. I suppose I could threaten him with a steak knife.”

  Herman huffed. “This is serious. The man’s a Hollywood legend. A Cy Westwood movie would raise your career to a whole new level.”

  Carter wasn’t sure he wanted to be raised to a whole new level. He hadn’t fully adjusted to the one he was on. “I’ll do my best.”

  When they checked in with the maître d’, Cy Westbrook had not yet arrived. A half hour later there was still no sign of him.

  Herman fretted and watched the door with growing anxiety. “I can’t understand it. I confirmed the meeting with his secretary this afternoon.”

  “Maybe something came up,” Madelyn suggested.

  “But I gave the woman my cell phone number.”

  Carter crunched a handful of corn nuts from the bowl on the table in the bar and glanced at his watch. Nearly nine o’clock. Cy Westbrook was either fashionably late and planning to make a grand entrance or had blown off the meeting. It didn’t matter. Either way, he needed real food, and he needed it fast.

  “Legend or not, if he doesn’t get here soon I’m going to reconsider that steak knife.” He shoved his chair back from the table and stood. “Let’s go in and order. If Westbrook shows up, great. If not...” He shrugged.

  Herman frowned. “But that would be so rude.”

  “You can wait here for him if you want, but I’m eating now. Madelyn?”

  “Oh, oh, there he is.” Herman popped up from his chair and scurried to the door.

  A tall man with craggy features, long silver hair, and a scruffy white beard entered the lobby accompanied by a gargantuan ex-pro wrestler-type wearing an earpiece.

  Thank God he’d prevented Herman from hiring a bodyguard like that. He glanced at Madelyn. He’d put his money on her any day. In addition to being deceptively tough, she was astute and funny—both qualities that made her good company. If he’d had to spend the last two weeks with someone like Westwood’s gorilla, he might have been forced to shoot him.

  Cy Westwood turned out to be as colorful as his reputation. He regaled them through dinner with stories of his early action films and the actors he’d worked with over his fifty-year career. Carter quickly abandoned any concern about trying to be charming or dangerous and concentrated on his crab cakes and ribeye because the producer didn’t slow down long enough to let anyone else get a word in. Finally Westwood took a long swallow of his double scotch, and Herman jumped in with both feet.

  He leaned forward, resting a forearm on the table. “So Cy, as I told your secretary, Mr. Devlin’s agent has authorized me to negotiate on his behalf. Do we have a deal? It’s an exciting property.”

  Westwood signaled to Bluto, who had declined Herman’s invitation to join them for dinner and stood hulking behind his employer’s chair holding his briefcase. “I like it. It’s a top notch thriller. I had my people draw up a contract.” The producer slid a folder from his briefcase and handed it to Herman, whose face glowed as if he’d been given the key to eternal happiness.

  “We can go over the details once you’ve had a chance to read through it,” Westwood said. “Now, who wants to join me for a brandy to celebrate?”

  Before Carter or Herman had a chance to speak, Madelyn responded. “I’m afraid Mr. Devlin and I have to decline.”

  “Not a drinking man, Devlin? I had you pegged for a fellow Irishman.”

  Carter glanced at Madelyn. “I think—”

  “He’s taking pain medication for a recent injury. He’s not supposed to drink.”

  Westwood smiled. “Ms. Li takes good care of you, I see.”

  “She does at that.”

  “I’ll join you for a brandy.” Herman turned to Madelyn. “I’ll ask one of the staff to drive me to my room later.”

  Carter and Madelyn said their goodbyes and drove back to his room. While he unlocked the door, she slid her gun from the holster clipped to the back of her waistband.

  “You just checked it a couple of hours ago.” He turned the knob.

  “You know the drill. Besides, when you were in the CIA, didn’t you check your quarters every time you returned?”

  “Sure, but I’ve worked hard to break the habit during the past year.”

  “You only have to put up with it for a couple more weeks.”

  Only a couple more weeks. A month had seemed so long when they left Chicago. Now it was half over. Although he was more than ready for the tour to end, he wasn’t ready to lose this near-constant contact with Madelyn. What would happen when they went back to being neighbors? Without the excuse of the job, would she agree to see him again?

  She returned to the door and holstered her weapon. “It’s clear. Now take a pill and get some rest. We’ll leave for San Francisco after breakfast.”

  Carter wasn’t ready to say goodnight. He reached for her hand. “Stay a while.”

  ****

  She met his gaze and surprised herself by not pulling away. “It’s late.”

  “Not that late.”

  She hesitated. She’d nearly lost him today, only hours after discovering she’d fallen in love against every one of her professional principles. Perhaps she could stay a bit longer without risking her career and her heart.

  “I’ll light the fire,” he said.

  Desire to be with him warred with caution. “You need your pain pill. Yo
ur shoulder—”

  “It’s fine.”

  Desire knocked caution to its knees. “Maybe for a little while.”

  Carter released her hand and knelt in front of the fireplace. Feeling a need to put some distance between them, she wandered to the windows and gazed out at the night.

  “It’s so dark,” she murmured.

  “Yes.” He moved to stand behind her without touching, so close his warm breath stirred her hair.

  “There’s such a sense of peace and solitude here. You could almost believe you’re the only person in the world.”

  “But you’re not. I’m here.”

  “You are.” She turned and brushed against him, setting off a dangerous explosion of sparks. “And you need sleep.”

  “Eventually.”

  He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. Her pulse jumped, and caution fought back. She placed a small hand in the center of his chest. “No.”

  “No, what? I didn’t say anything.” His voice trailed across her skin like a feather.

  “You didn’t have to. You’re not the first man who’s ever tried to seduce me, you know. You’re still my client, and you’re still injured.”

  “And when I’m not?”

  “We’ll talk about it then.”

  She couldn’t read his eyes clearly in the flickering firelight, but he seemed to be weighing his options.

  “How about a soak in the hot tub?” His husky suggestion sent a shiver up her spine.

  “You’re not supposed to get your shoulder wet.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You’ll get too cold.”

  “I’m hot blooded.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of.

  He caressed her upper arms lightly. “Come on. It’s a beautiful night. We can leave the fire going in here and sit out under the stars.”

  “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

  “Who needs one? It’s dark, and I promise not to look.”

  She gave a soft snort of disbelief. “Said the wolf to Little Red Riding Hood.”

  “You think I’m a wolf?”

  She sensed more than a hint of masculine pride beneath his façade of false innocence. “I think you think you are.”

  “You’re murder on a guy’s ego.”