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

  “I’m not here to protect your ego.”

  “My body could use some attention too.”

  She tilted her head and shot him a skeptical look. “Honestly, does that stuff ever work for you?”

  “It used to...I think.”

  “Well, it’s not going to work with me.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Good. As long as you keep it firmly in mind, I might take you up on a dip in the hot tub.”

  He raised his brow. “You never give up control, do you?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Control gave her strength. Control kept her safe. Especially where he was concerned. She wouldn’t be manipulated, and she wouldn’t be seduced, but tonight she was walking a tightrope between temptation and control. One false step could lead to disaster.

  “There are a couple of robes in the closet. You can change in the bathroom.”

  Had she lost her mind? She was about to take off her clothes and sit naked with him with nothing between them but water. Her stomach clenched, but deep inside a voice whispered, Do it. Take a chance. For once.

  Feigning more confidence than she felt, she stepped into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later enveloped in a fluffy white robe with her hair pinned on top of her head. The ends of the belt reached her knees, and she’d rolled the sleeves several times.

  Carter smiled. “I guess one size doesn’t fit all.”

  “Not this all anyway.”

  He pushed open the sliding door, and they stepped onto the deck. Steam rose from the surface of the water.

  “Are you brave enough to go first?” he asked.

  “Turn your back.”

  When he complied, she shed the robe and slid into the water up to her neck. The force of the heat knocked the breath from her lungs. “Oooh.”

  He turned. “Are you all right?”

  “It’s hot.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  Her skin tingled from the friction of the hot water as she scooted to the opposite side of the tub. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Are you going to close your eyes?”

  You got yourself into this. Now follow through. She gave him what she hoped was a saucy smile. “You promised. I didn’t.”

  “Fine with me.” He stared into her eyes as he untied the belt of his robe, but at the last minute her boldness failed, and she turned her head.

  He laughed. “Chicken.”

  A soft splash and muttered curse told her he’d joined her in the water.

  “You weren’t kidding about the temperature.”

  She opened her eyes. The inky blackness of the water hid his body. “I warned you. But it gets better.”

  He braced both arms on the rim of the tub, keeping his bandaged shoulder above the water, and leaned back.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “A little.”

  “I told you to take a pill.”

  “Later.”

  He tilted his head to gaze upward, and she followed suit. Thousands of tiny white pinpricks covered the velvety black expanse of sky. Some glowed brighter than others, and a couple whizzed across in a sweeping arc.

  “I haven’t seen stars like this since the desert.” His voice was thoughtful, almost wistful.

  “Was the desert very beautiful?”

  “In some ways.”

  “I’m sure you were glad to come home.”

  He dropped his gaze, and the light from the fire in the room beyond gilded the hard planes of his face. “At this moment, I’m very glad.”

  “Me too.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but there it was.

  “Come here.” The words hung between them in the still night air.

  “I’m fine where I am.”

  “I’m not. I need you closer.”

  “I told you before—”

  “I’ll be a perfect gentleman and keep my hands where you can see them.” He tapped his fingers on the rim of the spa.

  Did she dare? Go on. Do it. Her pulse fluttered. She glided through the water like an otter, stopping just beyond arm’s reach.

  “Closer.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to kiss you.”

  “With your hands up there? That won’t be easy, even for you.”

  “I don’t need my hands to kiss you. Of course you’ll have to do most of the work.” Challenge glittered in his eyes.

  His proposition tantalized her. Emboldened, she drifted closer. “Close your eyes.”

  He did as she ordered and waited. She touched his lips with a kiss as soft as dandelion fluff. When he tried to respond with more pressure, she floated out of reach. He stilled, and she returned, warming his cheek with her breath. Then she pressed a kiss to his earlobe.

  He growled and gripped the side of the tub. Her breath caught in her throat. Had she pushed him too far? What was it Grandma Li used to say about teasing a dragon?

  But Carter didn’t roar, and he didn’t bite. He waited.

  Just one more. Then this madness must stop.

  She returned to his lips and allowed herself a long, slow kiss. He met her halfway, and she didn’t back off. But kissing was difficult with nothing to hold onto. Before she could stop them, her hands grazed his ribs. The muscles tightened beneath her fingers, and she sucked in a sharp breath. She shot out of the water, snatched her robe, and wrapped it around herself with shaking hands. She’d come so close to risking everything.

  His eyes flew open. “What are you—”

  “No complaints. You got what you wanted.” She silently cursed the waver in her voice. She needed to stay strong, now more than ever.

  “Not even close.”

  “I stand corrected. You got what you asked for.”

  “I’ll have to be more specific in the future.”

  “I’ve told you why we can’t get involved. It’s not my fault you refuse to believe me.”

  “You and your precious rules.”

  “My rules keep everyone safe.”

  “Safety can be overrated.”

  “Not in my line of work.” She tightened her belt with a jerk.

  “We’re not talking about work.”

  “Yes, we are. Now get out of that tub before you turn into a lobster and go to bed.” She shoved the heavy glass door aside and headed for the bathroom.

  ****

  Carter didn’t move until he was sure she’d gone. Then he dragged himself from the water and pulled on his robe. Despite his frustration, he was making progress. Madelyn might claim to be immune, but it was a lie. He’d sensed the latent desire in her kiss, even though she resisted with an iron will. She was a complex puzzle. For a woman so forthright about most things, she was remarkably reticent about others. The key lay hidden somewhere. He vowed to keep searching until he found it.

  The next morning, she appeared at breakfast with circles under her eyes and a restless air of discontent. Good. She hadn’t slept any better than he had. Maybe he was closer to breaking through than he’d thought. She glanced his way frequently while pushing her strawberries around with her spoon, as if she had something to say but didn’t know where to start.

  If Herman noticed a lull in the conversation, he gave no sign. He maintained a steady patter of babbling excitement about last night’s meeting. To listen to him, one would think The Man Behind the Curtain was the first book ever to be made into a movie. Carter tuned him out, nodding when necessary, and wondered how soon he could get Madelyn alone.

  He had no opportunity before they set out for San Francisco. True to her word, a new armored car had arrived sometime during the night.

  “Do you want me to drive?” Carter held a hand out for the keys as the bellman loaded the luggage into the trunk.

  “Why would I want that?”

  “I thought it might be easier for you...with the bridge.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “I am perfectly capable of driving. I got you here in one piece, didn’t I?”

  “I was
just trying to be chivalrous.”

  “I don’t need your chivalry.”

  “Feeling a little touchy this morning, are we?”

  She spun on her heel, marched around to the driver’s side, climbed in, and slammed the door. He smiled. Oh, no. She wasn’t immune.

  Despite Madelyn’s assurance, he kept a close eye on her as they approached the Bixby Bridge. His pulse picked up when they left solid ground and drove onto the elevated span, but she stared straight ahead and maintained a tight grip on the wheel. After they crossed the bridge without incident, he relaxed against the seat, pleased to see the color had returned to her knuckles.

  He must have dozed during the drive because the next thing he knew, they were parked in front of a striking, Asian-themed hotel in downtown San Francisco. After checking in, they followed the bellman to their rooms on the thirtieth floor. Each room had muted, but luxurious, Feng Shui décor and spectacular views of the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge.

  After dumping his suitcase, Carter stood gazing out the window. He couldn’t get enough of the view. The scene looked like a postcard, only better.

  Being a native, Madelyn was probably used to this panorama, but he had only seen it in pictures and movies. If he were suave and debonair like the hero of his book, he would order champagne and caviar and invite her to his room to enjoy the view. However, his tastes ran more toward beer and bratwurst, and he wasn’t doing too well in the suave department, so he stretched out on the bed to watch a little football until it was time to get ready to leave for the reception cruise on the bay.

  At five o’clock, he knocked on Madelyn’s door. When she opened it, his fist froze in midair.

  Chapter Seventeen

  She wore some sort of tight little dress, but the only thing his mind registered was red. Flaming red. He’d told her he wanted to see her in red, and here she was, standing before him in a wisp of scarlet and impossibly high-heeled black satin shoes with little bows on the toes. Every part of him leapt to attention. She’d better be sending a message, because he was picking it up loud and clear.

  He dropped his hand. “I can’t begin to tell you how you look, but I’m sure I don’t have to.”

  She bit her juicy red-painted lip. “I’ve never worn anything like this before. The saleswoman assured me it would be perfect.”

  “She was right.”

  “You don’t think it’s too flashy?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  He’d been right about the red. The contrast with her black hair and creamy skin revealed the true fire of the woman within. On the surface she might be controlled and reserved, but in this dress she radiated sex and danger. It was all he could do to keep his hands at his sides.

  “We’d better go, or we’ll be late.” She bit her lip again.

  “Have you got everything? Where’s your gun?”

  “In my purse.” She held up a black satin clutch.

  Beautiful, sexy, and armed with a deadly weapon. He swallowed hard. “Let’s go.”

  The pier was only a few blocks from the hotel on the Embarcadero, but Madelyn insisted on driving. She said it was for security reasons, but he wondered if she was afraid to walk the short distance in those tantalizing, but highly impractical, shoes.

  “There’s the boat.” Herman leaned forward from the back seat and pointed as they pulled into a parking space. “It’s a restored former presidential yacht. They rent it out for wine cruises like this.”

  “How many people will be attending tonight?” Madelyn pushed the button on the key fob to lock the car.

  “Only thirty. We invited a very select crowd, mostly press and local dignitaries.”

  “I’ll need the list so I can check their invitations as they board.”

  “I’ve got it right here.” Herman withdrew a folded paper from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her as they approached the gangway.

  While Herman and Madelyn discussed arrangements with the captain, Carter admired the ship. It had been restored to its original glory with teak decks and steel stairs. He felt as though he’d stepped back in time seventy years. He half expected to see Franklin Roosevelt and a cadre of generals plotting war strategy in the captain’s quarters.

  “Welcome aboard.” The captain shook their hands. “Please come this way and let me show you the facilities.”

  They followed him on a tour from the bridge to the decks to the luxurious salon. Madelyn stopped in the galley to talk to the catering director before rejoining the men at the bar. “Why don’t you two have a glass of wine and relax. I’ll greet the guests.”

  “Sounds good.” Carter’s shoulder hurt, and he’d learned from experience that if he wanted a drink he had to get it before Herman introduced him to everyone in sight. He was growing more accustomed to publicity affairs, but they were work, pure and simple.

  A waiter in a black uniform with brass buttons and a white yachting cap handed him a glass of very good Cabernet. It was a beautiful evening, warm with an occasional puff of breeze. The sun hung low on the horizon, glazing the ripples on the water with gold. The air would get much cooler when the sun set, but at the moment it was perfect.

  The guests began to arrive, and soon the yacht was underway with the party in full swing. As usual, Madelyn stuck close by his side. Waiters passed through the crowd with a variety of wines and trays of oysters, shrimp, little onion tarts, and brochettes of beef.

  He gazed longingly at the brochettes while half-listening to the wife of the editor of the Chronicle talk about her sister, who wanted to be a writer. It would probably be another room service night for him.

  After an hour, he noticed Madelyn shifting her weight from foot to foot and occasionally slipping one shoe off, then the other. He leaned down and whispered, “Shoes giving you trouble?”

  “They should be outlawed as instruments of torture.”

  “They look great.”

  “You wear them.”

  He laughed. “Somehow I don’t think the effect would be the same.”

  “I’m going to be crippled by the end of this party. You’ll have to carry me back to the car.”

  The image of Madelyn in his arms warmed him through. “I can arrange that.”

  “Have you forgotten your shoulder?”

  He almost had. Being with her was good medicine.

  Over the next hour her fidgeting increased until his feet started to ache in sympathy. When they finally caught a break between well-wishers, he said, “Why don’t you take your shoes off? No one will notice.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone would notice.” She scanned the crowd. “But I do need to go to the ladies’ room.”

  “So go.”

  “I can’t leave you by yourself.”

  “I can always come with you.”

  Her lips thinned in a firm line. “Stop it.”

  “I’ll be fine. Besides...” He flicked open his jacket to reveal a black leather shoulder holster, then closed it just as fast.

  “That isn’t empty, is it?”

  He shook his head.

  She hesitated a moment. “Okay, but try not to get into trouble while I’m gone.”

  “I think I can take care of myself for a few minutes.”

  She took a couple of steps then her right ankle wobbled. She glared at the offending footwear. “Why do women wear things like this?”

  “Because they know what they do to men.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’d be happy to show you if it weren’t for all these people.”

  She skewered him with a sharp look. “Big talk. You keep forgetting about your shoulder.”

  “I’m a fast healer, remember?”

  “Not that fast. Now don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  ****

  Madelyn slipped behind a group of people embroiled in a lively political debate and headed for the stairs to the lower level that housed what the captain nautically referred to as the heads. Her feet were howling. She
glanced at her watch. Only one more hour to go. Thank heaven. She stopped at the top of the stairs and peered down their steep length into near-darkness. She might stand a better chance of avoiding a broken ankle if she removed her shoes.

  Shoes in hand, she picked her way down the steps. A waiter balancing a tray loaded with empty glasses approached, heading toward the galley, so she turned sideways and pressed up against the outside rail to let him pass. She’d only taken a couple of steps when glassware clattered behind her. She started, dropping her shoes and purse. Before she could turn to investigate, a heavy blow struck her from behind, launching her into the deck railing. The metal bit into her stomach as she frantically tried to grasp it, but momentum propelled her over the side.

  She barely had time to breathe, much less scream, before she hit the water and plunged beneath the inky surface. Needles of pain shot through her limbs as the cold sucked the heat from her body. Her eyes were open, but she couldn’t see. She hung suspended in impenetrable blackness, dazed and disoriented. Her lungs burned from an urgent need for oxygen.

  Fear, ugly and familiar, pushed its way through the fog surrounding her brain. She’d been in this situation before and barely survived. This time she wouldn’t be so lucky. Patrick was in Chicago. No team of agents raced to her rescue. No one even knew she was gone. She was on her own.

  Panic gripped her. There was no air. Tendrils of deepening cold squeezed her chest like a giant octopus as she drifted downward.

  Then instinct took over. With one powerful kick, she exploded upward. Her head broke the surface, and she gasped.

  As she sucked in more oxygen, the fog cleared. She registered the searing cold, the glowing lights of the ship above her, and the salt of the sea on her lips. Her arms and legs stroked in rhythm to keep her head above water, bobbing with the waves.

  The yacht was steadily pulling away from her. She waved one frantic arm and called out, but the drone of the engines drowned out her puny shouts.

  How soon would Carter notice her absence? Ten minutes? Twenty?

  Lights twinkled on the distant shore. She’d never make it to land. A wave slapped her in the face, forcing water into her nose and mouth. She choked and sputtered. She might not be able to swim fast enough to catch up, but she refused to give up without making the effort. With a deep breath, she struck out after the boat.