A Silverhill Christmas

by Carol Ericson

  “Dana told me.” She put her hand on Rio’s arm. “Julia is Ryder’s wife. They have an older daughter, too.”

  Rio’s eyes flickered. “Is Dana the one who told you about Alexi going to Maui?”

  Rio really knew how to ruin an already bad situation. “Yeah.”

  “You’re here to protect Tori against her ex-husband?” Rod’s gaze dropped to Tori’s hand still resting on Rio’s forearm.

  “Yeah.”

  “I heard he’s one crazy SOB. If you need any help, call us in.” He jerked his thumb toward Rafe. “We’d do anything to protect Tori.”

  Rio plucked his weapon from his waistband and care fully placed it on the counter. Then he squared his shoulders. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need any help protecting Tori.”

  “Then you don’t know Tori.”

  “I know Tori…really well.”

  Tori rolled her eyes. This was turning into a pissing contest between these two stubborn men. Digging her fingers into Rio’s arm, she reached over and grabbed Rod’s hand. “I know I’ll be safe with all the McClintocks on my side.”

  Rafe laughed and tugged her hair. “Well, you’ve got us. You’re both joining us for Christmas, right? We’re doing it McClintock-style at the ranch. Rod’s wife Callie is an artist and she’s been decorating and making everything pretty. The kids can’t wait to meet Max.”

  Rio took a breath, but Tori beamed at Rafe and said, “Of course, we’re coming. Those Christmas trees in Maui just looked all wrong.”

  “Is the old man going to be there?” Rio’s harsh voice ripped through the laughter.

  “He’s too ill to travel.” Rod disentangled his hand from Tori’s and crossed his arms over his chest. “He and his wife, Pam, are in Palm Springs. You should fly out to pay him a visit one of these days. I mean, since he turned over that land to you and all.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  Rafe cut into the charged air, like he usually did. “Rio, if you have some time, I’d like to see the alarm system you installed. With the crowds in Silverhill growing bigger and bigger each winter, some of the business owners in town are looking into alarm systems.”

  Rio’s nostrils flared, and Tori caught her breath. Was he going to refuse him?

  Instead, he rolled his shoulders and said, “Sure, follow me.”

  Tori blew out a breath as the two men retreated to Jared’s office, heads together as they discussed Rio’s system. Rafe could usually get anyone to come around, even his prickly older brother.

  She felt Rod’s gaze burning a hole in the back of her head. She spun around. “What?”

  “You two have a thing for each other, don’t you?” He hooked his thumbs in his belt loop and rocked back on his heels.

  Her mouth gaped open. Then she snapped it shut and scowled. “And why is that your business?”

  “It’s dangerous. When you care for someone, it muddies the waters, makes you act recklessly. Rio’s a hothead, isn’t he? He takes risks.”

  Tori pressed her fingers against her lips, keeping mum about Rio’s actions—joining her at the hotel, slipping in with the catering staff, jumping up on the boat to fire at Alexi’s men. Yeah, he took risks, but every one of them had resulted in Max’s escape.

  “He’s solid, Rod. He’d go to the ends of the earth to protect me and Max.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not doubting his loyalty or his skill set. It’s clear he’s a dangerous foe…and a deadly one. But when a man’s heart is on the line, he can make some dumb choices.”

  “The fact that Rio lo…cares about me makes him more dedicated.”

  “Just call us if you need us, Tori…the other McClintock brothers.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Two more days until Christmas, and the McClintocks charged toward the holiday full-throttle. Seemed that family always did everything full-throttle. His family.

  As a light snow dusted Rio’s shoulders, he buckled Max into his booster seat in the back of Jared’s Range Rover and slammed the door. He slid onto the passenger seat and hit the dashboard with his palm. “Let’s go.”

  Shifting the car into reverse, Tori glanced sideways at him. “Don’t worry. I know how to drive in snow.”

  “Do I look worried?”

  “Yeah, you’ve had a furrow between your brows all day. I-is there something you haven’t told me about you-know-who?” She glanced quickly into the backseat.

  “I told you everything, Tori. He knows we took him, he probably knows you’re here, and we haven’t been able to arrest him yet.” He didn’t tell her the silence from Alexi’s camp worried the hell out of him. If Alexi or one of his goons had come out to Silverhill by now, blustering and threatening, Rio could handle that. He could meet those threats head-on and with gusto.

  Alexi was plotting and planning all right, but he was doing it in the dark. Whatever he had up his royal sleeve would take them by surprise.

  Tori bit her lip as she edged the car down the drive. “Something has to break soon. Maybe the CIA will discover his warehouse in Glazkova. In the meantime, let’s just enjoy the holiday.”

  Rio stared out at the white landscape. He was almost as worried about Christmas with the McClintock clan as he was about Alexi. He’d gotten to know his brothers a little better in the past couple of days, and despite himself, he liked them, or at least respected them.

  Who couldn’t like Rafe? The sheriff’s easygoing manner and sense of humor had everyone in town singing his praises and laughing at his jokes. Rod was harder to figure—taciturn, moody—heck, the guy reminded him of himself. And Ryder, who’d come into town with his gentle wife and daughter and newborn baby, had a mind like a steel trap. The bad guys were lucky Ryder wasn’t in the field anymore, but he could probably do more damage behind his desk than twenty field ops.

  Rio pressed his forehead against the cold glass. He’d given his half brothers a chance for Tori’s sake. He’d pretty much do anything for her now and cursed his own weakness. He had to get her out of Silverhill. Maybe she needed to go into the Witness Protection Program until she was safe.

  And when would that be? Not until Prince Alexi Zherkov was behind bars or dead.

  “We’re here.” She swung to the curb in front of a brightly lit Mexican restaurant.

  Rio rubbed the cold spot on his forehead and pulled on his gloves. “Just the three of us tonight, right? No other McClintocks are going to swagger in here and join us?”

  She turned off the engine and sat clutching the steering wheel. “I thought you were getting along with your brothers.”

  “Half brothers,” he said out of habit. “They’re okay, I guess, but I want a night alone with you and Max.”

  Leaning over, she whispered in his ear, “You have me to yourself when the lights go out.”

  Her warm breath and sensuous tone, like sweet honey, made his blood pound hot and thick. Since her brother and his family had left, Rio had joined Tori in her bed every night after they’d tucked in Max. Then he’d creep back to his own room before dawn like a thief in the night.

  Making love with Tori every night had dulled his sharp edges, filled him with lazy contentment. Put her and Max in danger. “About that…”

  She put a gloved finger to his lips. “Stop. I need to curl up next to you at night, Rio. Without you in my bed, I’d be jumping at every snapping twig outside.”

  He bit back his protest and kissed the tip of her finger, the one she had him wrapped around with skill and ease. He couldn’t say no to this woman.

  Where would that land him when this all ended?

  She grabbed the door handle, and he put out his hand. “Wait. You know the drill.”

  He slid from the car and scanned the pedestrians braving the snow. Fat, wet blobs smacked the side of his face, and he squinted against the cold. They’d come out to dinner early to avoid the big storm rolling in tonight, but it looked like the weather forecast had misjudged the timing.

  Seeing nothing that set off his intern
al alarm, he poked his head in the car. “All clear.”

  Those two words sounded hollow and fake. All clear for now, but something nagged him, tugged at the edges of his consciousness. Tori had to get out of Silverhill, disappear in some random area of the country where her ex-husband would never find her. Disappear from his life.

  Rio unbuckled Max from his booster and tucked him under one arm, carrying him into the restaurant. He raised his brows at the packed dining room. “Seems not even a blizzard can keep these people away. The food must be good.”

  Tori smiled at the hostess and requested a table for three. “Well, the food is good and the margaritas are legendary, but most people come here for the skiing and a little snow isn’t going to deter them.”

  “A little snow?” He tipped his head toward the window. “I think that storm is rolling in earlier than predicted. Let’s not stay too long.”

  She grabbed his hand, pressing her body against his arm. “I agree. Early bedtime for Max and a big blaze in the fireplace for us.”

  They wound up with a table in the corner and ordered two margaritas from the young waiter. When he asked them if they wanted to share a pitcher, Tori shook her head. “One’s my limit on a night like this.”

  The waiter nodded his head. “That’s smart. I worry about some of these tourists.”

  “Are you a local then?”

  The young man’s cheeks formed two spots of color. “Not exactly, but I’ve been working here the past two winters.”

  “Where are you from?” Rio spoke a couple of languages and could pick up accents quickly, and this kid had one from Eastern Europe.

  Tapping his badge, the waiter smiled. “Czech Republic.”

  Rio peered at the badge pinned to the young man’s shirt with his name and hometown etched into it. Like a lot of tourist locations, Silverhill attracted young people from all over the world.

  “Your English is good, Tomas.”

  Tomas blushed on top of his blush and took their food orders, insisting they try the albondigas soup, his personal favorite.

  While Max stuffed chips drenched in hot salsa into his mouth and Tori chattered on about local gossip, Rio watched the door. His gaze darted around the restaurant where laughing tourists, oblivious to the brewing storm, knocked back margaritas and tequila shots.

  Maybe the timing had kicked his senses into overdrive, maybe the waiting, but he sensed Alexi was about to make his move. He’d want his son back with him in Glazkova for Christmas.

  “Hello?” Tori tapped his knuckles with a fork. “You in there?”

  He shifted his gaze back to her face, so bright and glowing with happiness. She had her son, and they’d made it back to Silverhill for Christmas. She couldn’t see beyond that.

  “I’m sorry.” He dabbed her mouth with his napkin. “You have a little salt on your lip.”

  “You have that worried look again.” She planted her elbows on the table. “We’re perfectly safe. He’s not going to snatch him in a public place. He’s not going to waylay us on the drive back to my brother’s ranch since he knows you’re armed and lethal. And you’ve turned the ranch into a fortress. There’s no way he’s getting in there. He can’t get to us.”

  Rio rolled his shoulders and pasted a false smile on his face. There were always ways to get to someone…if you knew their location.

  By the time the soup came, Rio had ingested enough salt from the rim of his glass and the chips and salsa to start his own mine. He finished half the bowl because Tomas, their waiter, kept asking them how they liked it, but he pushed the rest away.

  Tori pointed at his bowl with her spoon. “Are you going to finish that?”

  “You just don’t want to disappoint Tomas, do you?”

  She laughed. “He’s so earnest. You can just imagine some babushka pinching his ruddy cheeks.”

  While Tori dipped into his remaining soup, Rio rubbed his eyes. Babushka. How had Alexi known that the CIA was planning to interrupt his drug deal with Grant Swain? Rio had made a mistake by infiltrating the catering staff and showing his hand. His uneasiness about Tori in that house had clouded his judgment. Would it happen again in Silverhill?

  Hell, he was sleeping with the woman he was supposed to be protecting. A complete breach of his duties.

  Tomas delivered the rest of their meal with a smile. “Did you enjoy the soup?”

  “It was delicious. Even my son liked it, didn’t you?” She tweaked Max’s nose as he smashed his hundredth chip into his face.

  Bet his old man never let him eat like that.

  Rio picked at his dinner, trying to concentrate on Tori’s words and automatically answering Max’s nonstop questions. Thoughts of escape consumed him. They had to get away from Silverhill. The CIA could stash Tori and Max away in some nondescript town where she had no ties or connections. No friends or family. No him.

  After Christmas. He’d convince her after Christmas. He could probably get her brother to work on her and maybe even his brothers…half brothers. She listened to them. She trusted them.

  “I think we’d better head back.” He shoved his plate away. “That storm is howling down on us now. How many years has it been since you’ve actually driven in this kind of weather?”

  Yawning, Tori ducked her head to get a glimpse through the window. “It’s been a few years. I think the food and the margarita just hit me. I’m tired.”

  “Do you want me to drive?” He waved Tomas over to their table. “We’re ready for the check.”

  “No, I’m good to drive.”

  The storm blustered outside and rattled the windows of the restaurant where conversation stalled. Finally the tourists realized what Rio had seen coming all night. The blizzard had hit Silverhill early.

  Maybe the weather had caused his sense of foreboding, but he planned to take the warning and run with it. He’d remove Tori from Silverhill after Christmas if he had to drug her and sling her over his shoulder to do it.

  The restaurant began to empty, and Rio scanned the room for Tomas. He’d asked for that check ten minutes ago. “Do you see our waiter?”

  Tori waved her hand toward the kitchen. “He’s been flitting around over there.”

  “Next time you see him, get his attention. We need to leave—now.”

  Tori’s smile froze on her face. “You mean leave the restaurant.”

  “For now, leave the restaurant.”

  “And for later?” She stifled a yawn, although her eyes brightened to alertness.

  “That’s for later.” He snapped his fingers as Tomas swung out of the kitchen. “Tomas, the check, please.”

  The young waiter clapped a hand over his mouth and scurried to the register. He rushed back to the table, waving their bill in front of him. “I’m sorry. With the snow coming down outside, we had to arrange transportation for some of our customers.”

  Rio slapped down some cash. “Keep it.”

  “Thank you, and drive safely.”

  Tori scooped up Max from his seat and stumbled back. “Oops. Could you take him, Rio? He’s getting so heavy and I don’t want him walking out there in the snow.”

  Rio zipped up his jacket and took Max from Tori’s arms while he shook off a yawn. Mexican food had a soporific effect on him, too. The damn stuff just sat in your belly.

  Tori bundled into her coat, tugged on her gloves and fished her keys out of her purse. Then she spent five minutes thanking the owners, whom she’d known since childhood, and praising Tomas.

  The restaurant owner pinched Max’s cheek and patted Tori’s arm. “Are you okay to drive, Tori? I know our margaritas pack a powerful punch.”

  “I know that, too. That’s why I had just one. Have a merry Christmas, and we’ll send Rafe over tomorrow to pick up some tamales for Christmas Eve.”

  The woman tapped her temple. “Very smart. We always give the sheriff a special deal.”

  Finally they staggered outside, and the snow pelted their faces. The icy sharpness needled Rio’s flesh, mom
entaily reviving him after the warm, stuffy restaurant. He secured Max, already sleepy, into his booster seat as Tori hopped into the front seat, rubbing her gloved hands.

  Rio scraped the windows before climbing into the Range Rover next to her. The car had all-wheel drive and could handle the roads, and Tori assured him she could make the drive blindfolded. With the white curtain descending all around them, she’d have to make good on that promise.

  Tori cranked up the heat and as soon as Rio settled into his warmed seat and reclined against the headrest, his limbs felt heavy and languorous. He rubbed a circle against the fogged window and peered out at the multi-colored lights lining Main Street.

  As soon as they pulled onto the roadway leading to the ranch, Rio’s lids tugged down over his eyes.

  Tori murmured, “I’m so tired. It must be the snow.”

  “Or the heat.” Rio shook his head and dialed down the heater.

  The big SUV plowed through the snow, and then began to drift toward the side of the road. Rio’s brain clicked, but his tongue couldn’t form the words of warning on his lips. As if in slow motion, he nudged Tori’s arm.

  She jerked awake, and the steering wheel jerked with her. The car veered back into its lane. “I can’t stay…”

  Tori’s head dropped to the side, and the car wandered across the dividing line. Luckily, no other cars were braving the road tonight, and the Range Rover was beginning to slow down as Tori’s foot slipped from the accelerator.

  If Rio could just rouse himself from his own stupor, he could take the wheel and steer them to safety. But the prospect of even raising his arm to grab the steering wheel proved too daunting for his languid muscles to accomplish.

  Through his foggy brain, one word pounded—why, why, why? Why were they both so tired? His eyes drifted shut again, and his head lolled to the side just as the Range Rover crawled to a stop, bumping a guardrail at the side of the road.

  Thank God.

  Rio pressed his cheek against the cold window. If he could get out, he’d revive himself in the snow.