Carol Ericson

A Silverhill Christmas


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back and forth along the ridge of the hill, the half moon shedding a fuzzy glow on the jumble of plants that hugged the edge. A bush rustled and an object sailed over his head, dropping at his feet. He glanced down at the crumpled flower petals littering the toes of his hiking boots.

      As the foliage parted above him, a denim-clad leg appeared over the side of the ridge. The sound of a click pumped up his adrenaline, and he braced his back against the tree trunk ready to charge at the intruder.

      Another leg appeared and Rio lunged forward, wrapping his arms around both appendages now dangling over the edge of the drop-off. He yanked at the legs, which kicked wildly, clamping them to his chest as he hurtled himself and his squirming package to the soft ground.

      They rolled a few feet down the hillside, and although the struggling stopped, Rio received a nip on his chest through his T-shirt for his efforts. What kind of pansy-ass thugs did Prince Alexi have working for him these days? What next, hair pulling?

      Their journey downhill came to a stop against a clump of bushes with Rio in the superior position, straddling the other man. Although he hadn’t seen or felt a weapon during their tussle, Rio ground his knee into the intruder’s right forearm while cinching his fingers around the man’s narrow left wrist before he rose to a sitting position.

      The branches from the trees above them obscured what little moonlight illuminated the scene. The small-statured man beneath him hadn’t put up much of a fight, but Alexi’s guy could be luring him into complacency.

      Rio growled, “I’m going for my flashlight. If you make a move, I’ll send you straight down this hill and your boss can scrape you off those rocks.”

      As Rio reached for his belt, he could’ve sworn his captive squealed. He snatched his flashlight from his belt loop, flicked it on, and shined it into the face of the limp form beneath him.

      “What the hell?” He jerked back. A woman, her red hair fanning around her head, gazed at him with wide eyes. Had he just taken down an unsuspecting tourist?

      He clenched his jaw and clamped his thighs tighter around her frame. Or maybe Alexi had employed a new weapon in his arsenal.

      “Let me go. I don’t have a boss and that includes you.” She bucked beneath him, drawing up her leg to knee him in the crotch.

      He dropped down onto her thighs, and she nailed him in the backside instead. “Tell me what you’re doing here. How’d you find my position?”

      “I’ll tell you everything once you get off me. I don’t know you nearly well enough for you to be straddling me like this, but buy me a couple of mai tais and you might get lucky.”

      She wriggled her body, and the movement, along with the exotic scent wafting from her skin, sent a shaft of desire right through to his core. Gladly, he hoisted himself up, extending a hand to her. “Get up. Don’t move.”

      She grasped his hand, her skin smooth to the touch, and he yanked her up beside him. “Raise your arms to the side.”

      “You sure like tossing around the orders, don’t you?”

      “Just do it.”

      Rolling her eyes, she followed his instructions, thrusting out her arms. His flashlight trailed over her body while he patted her down with one hand. She stiffened as he passed his hand across her breasts to make sure she didn’t have a weapon concealed in her bra.

      When he ran his palm down her bottom and briefly clenched her crotch, she jumped back. “Whoa. You’ll have to spring for a third mai tai to get that far.”

      He snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. All you represent to me is a suspicious person in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

      Okay, he lied. If she did work for Mad Prince Alexi, that man possessed a brilliant strategy. This woman with her sexy body and tough talk heated his blood and stirred his passions. One helluva distraction for a stakeout.

      “Satisfied I’m not packing?” Her eyes glittered in the beam of the flashlight, but he couldn’t discern their color.

      Satisfied? Not at all.

      “Yeah, not much you can hide in those tight jeans and T-shirt.”

      She raised her brows. “Wow, you noticed my clothing?”

      “I get paid to notice.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve also noticed you’re not dressed for hiking, and you don’t have a backpack. So what are you doing here, and what was that click I heard right before I tackled you?”

      “Click?” She scrunched up her face, but it still couldn’t mar her flawless beauty. She slapped her thigh and laughed. “I found an old lighter on the ground and flicked it open and then clicked it shut. You thought that was the safety on a gun?”

      He shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I guess it sounded magnified out here. That still doesn’t answer my first question.”

      “One question at a time, cowboy.” She tossed a handful of long, curly hair over one shoulder.

      He scowled and shot back, “Don’t call me that.”

      “You got something against cowboys?” She tilted her head, and her hair tumbled over her other shoulder, its strands catching the beams from his flashlight.

      His hand fisted at his side as he recalled his first and last visit to the McClintock ranch in Colorado. “Maybe. Now answer the question. The first question.”

      Folding her arms across her chest, she hunched her shoulders. “I’m out here for the same reason you are.”

      A muscle twitched in his jaw. What kind of game was she playing? Did some other agency have Prince Alexi under surveillance? If they did, they wouldn’t send a light weight like this woman—with no weapons and no training—no matter how gorgeous. Unless they planned to plant her inside Alexi’s mansion and maybe even his bed.

      His gut rolled at the thought of this woman in Alexi’s clutches. Then he took a deep breath. He didn’t have to rescue every scatterbrained woman on the planet.

      One had been enough.

      “Same reason? You mean a late-night hike?”

      “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.”