A Silverhill Christmas. Carol Ericson
made a smooth transition practicing her wiles on him instead.
Apparently, Rio didn’t suffer from the same complex…or he had a supercharged overdose of it. He didn’t even want her to place herself in danger in the first place. But then he had accused her of lying…of lying about Max.
She sank to the beach and grabbed fistfuls of sand. Max was so close she could feel the strong maternal pull toward him like a tide out to sea. She’d get into that compound to see her little boy even if she never made it out again.
The separation from her son had bored a deep, black hole in the pit of her belly. She couldn’t live without him anymore.
Jumping to her feet, she chucked the sand she’d gathered into the ocean. She’d approach Alexi tomorrow, or at least his guards at the estate. Once she had Max in her arms, she’d figure out something—with or without the help of Rio McClintock.
She sauntered along the beach, dragging her feet through the white water, skirting romantic couples locked in embraces or holding hands as they strolled past her.
She swallowed around a lump in her throat. She missed having that closeness with someone, not that she’d ever really had it with Alexi. And for the past two years she’d been too busy jaunting around the world, arguing with State Department officials and consulting with lawyers, to think about romance. Besides, she had no intention of dragging some poor man into Alexi’s radar. She needed a strong man for that job. She needed…McClintock.
As her feet left the grittiness of the beach for the soft grass of the lawn that led to the path to her hotel suite, she stopped and cursed. Her room key card was out in the ocean somewhere securely in the pocket of her jeans.
She veered back toward the pool where several guests still frolicked in the warm night air. Approaching the front desk, she smiled. “I lost my room key on a hike today. I’m in fifty-one twenty-five.”
The desk clerk requested her name and then tilted her head as she punched some keys on the computer keyboard. “Someone left a package for you, Ms. Scott.”
“A package?” Tori squeaked the words out past her tight throat. She hadn’t told anyone about her plans, except Dana.
The clerk dipped below the front desk and placed a bulky manila envelope on the counter. Tori ran her fingers along the edges. “Who left this?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know. I came on duty five minutes ago, so it wasn’t in the past five minutes. And I can’t tell when the previous clerk entered the note on the computer.” She slid two white cards next to the package. “I’m giving you an extra key card, Ms. Scott.”
Tori nodded and swept the cards and the package from the counter. She sank onto a wicker sofa in the lobby and ripped into the envelope. Flower petals showered onto her lap, their cloying scent making her gag on her empty stomach.
She dumped the lei onto the cushion next to her and fingered the dead, rotting flowers. This lei didn’t mean aloha and welcome. Had Alexi sent this? He’d always favored dramatic gestures.
Sighing, she struggled to her feet and dumped the envelope into the nearest trash can. Oh, well, it’s not like she wanted to continue skulking around the island hoping to get a glimpse of her son. She’d leave the skulking to Rio.
Tori wound her way back to the path that led to a bank of elevators beyond the pool. A few couples, returning from late dinners, crisscrossed the hallways and expansive floors, open to the outside. But when Tori reached her floor, silence greeted her.
She hadn’t seen the other inhabitants of this floor since she got here. They probably chose this out-of-the-way wing for privacy.
Same reason she chose it.
She slid the new key card into the slot and waited for the green light to flash. She frowned. Not even a red light flashed. She tried again and got the same response—nothing.
She switched cards and tried the second one. Again, nothing.
Grinding her teeth, she kicked the door. The desk clerk had given her the wrong key cards, and now she had to haul her butt all the way back to the lobby. And she wanted nothing more than to peel off her disgusting clothes, hop in the shower, and down a little twenty dollar bottle of wine from the minibar.
In frustration, she grabbed the doorknob. It not only turned, but the door inched open. She guessed the key card worked after all, but the lights must be broken.
She leaned her hip against the heavy door and pushed. Before she could flick on the hall light, something came at her out of the darkness.
A scream barreled up from her lungs. A rough hand clapped over her mouth while a heavy arm wrapped around her stomach.
She struggled, pounding her heel against a bare shin, but the vice clamped tighter around her midsection. She gagged as garlic-scented breath whispered against her ear.
“Do you want to die, Princess?”
Chapter Four
Rio clenched the steering wheel as he hit the highway back to his little bungalow. That’s not how he’d planned to end the evening with the Princess of Glazkova.
He had no intention of allowing her to jump into her ex-husband’s snake pit, but he could’ve coaxed some in formation from her about her son’s nanny. The nanny could lead to other chinks in the Zherkov armor. Maybe pinpoint a disgruntled employee, someone willing to turn on Alexi for immunity and a chance to escape a life of crime.
Time to make nice.
He wheeled his car into the next turnout and made a U-turn back to Tori. And just to make sure his return trip meant business and not pleasure, he clicked open the glove compartment to grab his cell phone. Good thing he hadn’t taken his cell with him on the surveillance or he’d be looking for a new phone.
His CIA contact, Ted Boyce, picked up on the first ring. Must’ve been waiting for him. “Ted, I have some interesting news.”
“Hope so because the Agency is wondering if you took this gig to get an all-expenses-paid trip to Maui.”
Rio snorted. “Yeah, I’ve been having such a relaxing time. You can tell your buddies that I ran into Zherkov’s ex-wife.”
Ted drew in a breath. “Ding, ding, ding. You hit the jackpot, bro. What’s she doing there and how’d you manage to hook up with her?”
Not so fast. Rio wasn’t ready to give up all of Tori’s secrets. He didn’t want the Agency jumping the gun on anything. He could still out-CIA the CIA. He cleared his throat. “She’s here because he’s here.”
“Can we use her?”
The edges of his phone bit into Rio’s flesh as he gripped it. That’s exactly why he didn’t want the CIA to get its grubby paws on Tori. “I’ll keep you posted.”
His lips twisted as he slid his phone shut. Way to keep it professional, McClintock.
Rio pulled up in front of the hotel and slid from the car. The valet parking attendant scurried toward him, holding out a ticket between outstretched fingers. “Are you a guest at the hotel, sir?”
“No. Does that mean I can’t leave my car here?”
A smile flickered across the younger man’s face. “You can leave it here, but it costs more.”
“Of course it does.” Rio snatched the ticket from the valet’s hand and stalked toward the registration desk.
People with leis draped around their necks milled about the lobby. The sweet, heavy scent from the plumeria conjured images of lazy nights on the beach with a fruity cocktail in one hand and a sultry woman in the other.
Rio shook his head. That twenty-foot jump into the ocean must’ve fogged his brain…or maybe his companion on that jump had something to do with his line of thinking.
The desk