A Silverhill Christmas. Carol Ericson

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      “Yeah, right.” She kicked a gnarled root with the toe of her running shoe. “A late-night hike by yourself, huddled against the side of a hill and using mad martial arts skills to attack other tourists.”

      He fought against the grin stealing across his face. “Those weren’t mad martial arts skills. I just yanked you off the edge of the overhang.”

      “Cut the crap, m-man.” She covered her mouth as if stopping herself from saying more. Waving her arm behind her, she recovered. “I know why you’re here, and I’m here for the same reason.”

      “You show me yours first, and I’ll show you mine.” He dug a hand in the pocket of his jeans. He had no intention of telling her his business on this hillside. But when they finished playing games here, he wouldn’t mind taking her up on her invitation to buy her a mai tai…or three.

      She jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward Alexi’s house, now hidden by the hillside’s dense foliage. “I’m here for Prince Alexi Zherkov, and so are you.”

      Rio widened his stance, digging the heels of his hiking boots into the mulch. The woman had her facts straight. Had the CIA hired her to work with him? If so, they hadn’t bothered to tell him about it.

      “Who hired you?”

      She giggled, bending backward to look at the sky. “I told you…cowboy, I don’t work for anyone.”

      “Then what’s your business with Alexi?” She hardly looked like an arms dealer. Arms dealers rarely giggled.

      She stopped laughing and hugged herself, her fingers biting into the taut muscles of her upper arms. For a curvy woman, she looked fit. “It’s not business. It’s personal.”

      Rio wiped the back of his hand across his brow, shoving the hair from his face. Great. Was she one of Alexi’s scorned lovers? Apparently, the guy had hordes of them.

      Biting the inside of his cheek, he studied the woman’s face, now set in hard, determined lines. If she had a burning desire to get back at Alexi, he might be able to use her.

      He doused the flare of protectiveness that leaped in his chest. It would be dangerous for her, but if she wanted revenge, they could help each other. Any woman foolish or greedy enough to hop in the sack with Mad Prince Alexi was already playing with fire. What were a few more licks from the flame?

      She disappointed him. He figured a sassy woman like her would have too much pride and self-confidence to get tangled up with a scumbag like Alexi.

      “Dumped you, huh?” He smirked.

      Wedging her hands on her hips, she took a step back. “You think I’m one of those bimbos, who’s hanging out with a rich guy regardless of the source of those riches? You think I’m a chick who wants revenge on a player?”

      “In a word—yes.”

      She laughed again, this time doubling over at the waist, her long hair almost touching the leaves on the ground.

      No wonder Alexi had dumped her—she was insane. As nuts as Alexi was, he wouldn’t have the patience for another lunatic…even one whose looks put those women in his hot tub to shame.

      She unfolded her body, wiping the tears from her face. She sniffled as she wound her hair around her hand and tossed it behind her. “Oh, it’s much worse than that, cowboy.”

      His brows shot up. This woman was throwing him more zigzags than that mountain road he’d traveled on his way up here. “Worse? Did he double-cross you in a business deal?”

      “You don’t listen too good for a secret agent, do you? I told you, I have a personal issue with Alexi, not a business one. I don’t have anything to do with drugs, or arms or any of Alexi’s other sleazy endeavors.”

      At least she had no misconceptions about Alexi or his business. “So what is it?”

      She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “I have the dubious distinction of being the ex-Mrs. Alexi Zherkov.”

      Rio’s mouth dropped open. Mad Prince Alexi’s mysterious former princess. In the flesh.

      From his research on Alexi these past six months since the CIA had hired him to get something on the arms dealer and bring him down, Rio had learned Alexi had an ex-wife somewhere. He’d even heard that Alexi had chosen an American for his bride, but Rio’s attempts to track her down and discover any more information had met with a brick wall.

      Alexi kept mum about his personal life, as did those surrounding him. Rio had gotten close to only one informant, and he didn’t belong to Alexi’s inner circle. The mole had told Rio about an American ex-wife named Victoria. If he had known any more than that, he’d taken it to his grave after the Landespolizei had dragged his body out of the Rhine River near Munich.

      Her bright gaze searched his face. “So you see, you can’t tell me anything about that SOB down there that I don’t already know. And I have as much right to be on this hillside as you do, spying on him, waiting for him to slip up so you can take him down. I don’t know why you boys in the CIA think you can get him now. You’ve been trying for years without much luck.”

      He studied her pale face from beneath half-lidded eyes. She thought he was CIA. He wouldn’t bother to correct her. She hit the nail on the head with one statement. The CIA had been trying for a long time to trip up Alexi. That’s why the Agency hired him—to try more unconventional methods.

      “So you’re Victoria.”

      She nodded slowly, her chin dropping to her chest. “You’re good, cowboy. I’m practically a state secret back in Alexi’s country, good old Glazkova. What else do you know?”

      “That’s about it.” He spread his hands wide. “Why don’t you fill me in, and while you’re at it, tell me why you’re stalking your ex-husband.”

      “First off, you might as well get the name straight. I’m Tori not Victoria.” She opened her arms. “Have you ever seen anyone less like a staid, proper Victoria?”

      She thrust one curvy hip to the side, and Rio’s eyes followed as if pulled by a magnetic force. In the muted glow of the flashlight, his gaze tracked over Tori’s luscious body. A riot of red curls tumbled over one ripe breast snug in a thin T-shirt raised above her jeans and showing a strip of her flat, hard belly.

      He swallowed. Nope, nothing staid or proper about her.

      Leaves crackled above them and Rio froze, killing his light. A thwacking noise disturbed the silence of the hillside. Tori hissed and Rio held a finger to his lips.

      A man uttered a curse in a guttural tone and another male voice answered him as the two voices floated over them in the night air.

      “I don’t see nothing down there.”

      “Tim’s working lookout on the balcony, and he said he saw a light on the hillside.”

      Damn. He’d been careless. Rio slid the butt of the flashlight into his belt as his gaze traveled back to Tori, her hand bunched into a fist against her hip. Too many distractions.

      The voices, sounding СКАЧАТЬ