A Silverhill Christmas. Carol Ericson
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Название: A Silverhill Christmas
Автор: Carol Ericson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика
Серия: Mills & Boon Intrigue
isbn: 9781472035417
isbn:
Holding the napkin over her mouth, she slumped against the cushions of the sofa. “I was young and stupid. While I was in college, both of my parents died in a plane crash. I wanted to quit school and go home, but my brother forced me to stick with it. Once I graduated, I didn’t want to go home anymore. Instead, I decided to travel.”
“Glazkova?”
“Not at first. I spent time in different countries and kept hearing about Glazkova—the parties, the beaches, the lifestyle. I decided to check it out for myself.”
“And was it all you dreamed it would be?” Rio cocked his head to study her face. He had a hard time imagining this single-minded woman relaxing.
“Oh, yeah.” She twisted the napkin in her lap. “For the tourists anyway, there seemed to be no rules, no laws. It was one big party, presided over by the partier-in-chief, Prince Alexi.”
“Were his parents already dead?” He’d heard once the old prince had died, the younger generation had let loose. Alexi’s father had also been involved in criminal enterprises, but not drugs and not arms dealing.
She nodded. “They died a few years before I arrived, so party central was in full-swing.”
“And you met Alexi at one of his parties?”
“Not just any party, his big birthday bash.”
“What was it? Love at first sight? He swept you off your feet beneath a full Glazkova moon?” Rio’s jaw tightened. For some reason that scenario left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Tori gave a short laugh and dragged a fry through a puddle of ketchup on her plate. “Not exactly.”
“A slow courtship? He wined and dined you. Introduced you to the beauty of his country, the magnitude of his wealth and power?”
She compressed her lips and smashed the fry on her plate. “Not. Exactly.”
The blood pumped in Rio’s veins, fast and hot. Had the SOB coerced her in some way? He knew it. No chance a classy woman like Tori would fall for scum like Alexi.
Rio reached for her hand, entwining his sticky fingers with hers. “What happened, Tori? How’d you become Princess Victoria of Glazkova?”
For the second time that night, someone knocked on the hotel door. Gasping, Tori disentangled herself from Rio and jumped from the sofa. She shushed him and tripped toward the door.
Standing on tiptoes, she peeked out the peephole. Then she spun around, and with her face as white as a sandy beach, she drew her index finger across her throat.
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