Read Online Madness (Revenge Series Book 3) by M.S. Brannon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: M.S. Brannon
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Simply get to the hotel and secure a room. I will communicate with you once you’re settled.”
I nod, saying nothing.
He lifts his hand and places it on my cheek. My knees feel like they are going to give out, but I keep them locked in place, hoping I remain upright.
Nikolai leans in and lowers his lips down to mine. “You can do this, Josslyn.”
My thudding heart stops as his soft, warm lips press against mine. I can taste the mint of his toothpaste and detect the spicy, addicting scent of his cologne as he lightly explores my lips.
The kiss only lasts for a mere second, but it feels as though time has stopped. The doom we are about to embark on is not even a thought.
“Trust me, Josslyn.”
I nod again as Nikolai turns me around until I’m facing the door of our cabin. With weakened knees, I lift my garment bag, placing it on my shoulder; pull the small carry-on suitcase behind me; and put my briefcase on the opposite shoulder of my garment bag. Then I step out of the room, locating the nearest exit.
As my feet connect with the steps, I shed the anxiousness and walk from the train. Looking out ahead of me, I repeat the mantra over and over in my mind: I’m Amelia Night, consultant. I’m Amelia Night, consultant . With every step I take, I feel myself relax.
The crowd is larger than I expected, and the air smells dingy, but I roll my shoulders back and take the steps toward my unknown future.
As I cross the brick platform, I am in awe for a moment of the vastness of Kievsky Station. Looking up, I see the roof is grand, made of glass and steel, and the tunnel appears to go on forever. I follow the crowd, weaving through the people until I find an exit from the station.
I keep my head focused on what I am doing, trusting that Nikolai is behind me. It wouldn’t be hard for him to blend in with the sea of people coming and going from the station.
When I walk closer to the exit, I notice the illuminated map on the wall. Not knowing exactly where I am going, I see I am only a few blocks from Red Square, and adjacent to the tourist area lays my hotel. For me, it makes more sense to walk to the Four Seasons versus riding in a cab. After all, I’m not even sure how people hail cabs in Russia. Is it the same as the cities in America? I also don’t want to look like some directionally challenged American who is attracting attention, either. The thought of walking is just a thought, however. It’s not the plan Nikolai and I discussed, and I really don’t want him pissed off because I changed it up slightly.
I step from the train station and absorb the warm air. The hustle and bustle in the train station seems to spill over to the sidewalks outside the building. I walk down the sidewalk, looking for a taxi, coming to a stop.
I guess I was picturing cabs lined up outside, looking for customers, similar to how it is when you exit an airport in the States where cab drivers swarm the airports, seeking their next fair. That is not the case at Kievsky. I don’t really see any place where taxis could be waiting for their next customer.
My gut is telling me now is the time be worried. I want to walk to the hotel, but I don’t want to deviate from the plan. However, walking might be the only thing I can do.
My mind is bouncing around, and the once hardened façade starts to crumble as I debate how I need to proceed. I want to look back. I want to turn around to see if Nikolai is behind me, but I can’t.
I push away my apprehension and get my feet moving, searching for a cab. The anxiety of the situation has transformed into a living, breathing beast. I cannot remember when I felt so nervous, even when I was on the job. Yes, the situations I walked into were terrifying, but I never felt this level of panic. I guess the adrenaline was more powerful than the fear, but this … This is altogether different. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any control over what is happening. Maybe it’s because I’m in an
I nod, saying nothing.
He lifts his hand and places it on my cheek. My knees feel like they are going to give out, but I keep them locked in place, hoping I remain upright.
Nikolai leans in and lowers his lips down to mine. “You can do this, Josslyn.”
My thudding heart stops as his soft, warm lips press against mine. I can taste the mint of his toothpaste and detect the spicy, addicting scent of his cologne as he lightly explores my lips.
The kiss only lasts for a mere second, but it feels as though time has stopped. The doom we are about to embark on is not even a thought.
“Trust me, Josslyn.”
I nod again as Nikolai turns me around until I’m facing the door of our cabin. With weakened knees, I lift my garment bag, placing it on my shoulder; pull the small carry-on suitcase behind me; and put my briefcase on the opposite shoulder of my garment bag. Then I step out of the room, locating the nearest exit.
As my feet connect with the steps, I shed the anxiousness and walk from the train. Looking out ahead of me, I repeat the mantra over and over in my mind: I’m Amelia Night, consultant. I’m Amelia Night, consultant . With every step I take, I feel myself relax.
The crowd is larger than I expected, and the air smells dingy, but I roll my shoulders back and take the steps toward my unknown future.
As I cross the brick platform, I am in awe for a moment of the vastness of Kievsky Station. Looking up, I see the roof is grand, made of glass and steel, and the tunnel appears to go on forever. I follow the crowd, weaving through the people until I find an exit from the station.
I keep my head focused on what I am doing, trusting that Nikolai is behind me. It wouldn’t be hard for him to blend in with the sea of people coming and going from the station.
When I walk closer to the exit, I notice the illuminated map on the wall. Not knowing exactly where I am going, I see I am only a few blocks from Red Square, and adjacent to the tourist area lays my hotel. For me, it makes more sense to walk to the Four Seasons versus riding in a cab. After all, I’m not even sure how people hail cabs in Russia. Is it the same as the cities in America? I also don’t want to look like some directionally challenged American who is attracting attention, either. The thought of walking is just a thought, however. It’s not the plan Nikolai and I discussed, and I really don’t want him pissed off because I changed it up slightly.
I step from the train station and absorb the warm air. The hustle and bustle in the train station seems to spill over to the sidewalks outside the building. I walk down the sidewalk, looking for a taxi, coming to a stop.
I guess I was picturing cabs lined up outside, looking for customers, similar to how it is when you exit an airport in the States where cab drivers swarm the airports, seeking their next fair. That is not the case at Kievsky. I don’t really see any place where taxis could be waiting for their next customer.
My gut is telling me now is the time be worried. I want to walk to the hotel, but I don’t want to deviate from the plan. However, walking might be the only thing I can do.
My mind is bouncing around, and the once hardened façade starts to crumble as I debate how I need to proceed. I want to look back. I want to turn around to see if Nikolai is behind me, but I can’t.
I push away my apprehension and get my feet moving, searching for a cab. The anxiety of the situation has transformed into a living, breathing beast. I cannot remember when I felt so nervous, even when I was on the job. Yes, the situations I walked into were terrifying, but I never felt this level of panic. I guess the adrenaline was more powerful than the fear, but this … This is altogether different. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any control over what is happening. Maybe it’s because I’m in an
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