|Subject: Chapter 20
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Date Posted: Tuesday, September 13, 04:09:25pm
In reply to:
's message, "Angelita - new chapters (finally)" on Friday, February 18, 01:02:53pm
Nikita spent a quiet week at the apartment with her father, Walter, and Michael. Christmas was a simple affair with the exchanging of gifts which Nikita enjoyed immensely.
However, she was really just counting the days until they left for Switzerland. Her father’s assistant had book them a charter flight on a jet to St. Moritz. Nick had suggested that they not use the company plane to attract less attention.
Gail had sent over some brochures for the Swiss resort destination, including the hotel reservation at the exclusive Badrutt’s Palace Hotel. Nikita had poured over the travel brochures, her excitement growing with each one. The thought of cuddling up with Michael in the Swiss Alps, made her dizzy with anticipation.
The days eventually dragged by, and they finally boarded the plane in a private hangar, away from the prying eyes, and lenses, of the press. The frustrated paparazzi, had been laying siege to the Park Avenue apartment hoping for a shot of Nikita and Michael together.
Nikita stared out the window of the plane as the clouds covered the city as they climbed out. The sky above the clouds was a startling blue, and the beauty of it made Nikita’s heart swell. The beautiful blue soon turned to black as they sped away from the setting sun. They would arrive the next morning in Switzerland and be whisked away in a private limousine to the hotel.
“Nikita?” the voice whispered, disturbing a wonderful dream about Michael.
“Nikita?” it came again, more insistent this time. She groaned and tried not to let the dream slip away.
“You need to wake up. We will be landing soon,” Michael said, pushing her hair back off of her face.
“Oh! Michael, its you,” she said, just as happy with reality as she had been with her dream.
“You need to go back to your seat now,” he told her, giving her his hand.
Nikita looked around and noticed that she had been moved to the “sleeping” portion of the private aircraft.
“You fell asleep in your seat last night, so I moved you,” Michael explained, reading her mind.
Nikita nodded, and stood up. She stretched her long limbs, and then followed Michael back to the seats. She opened the sliding window shade gasped at the sun glinting off the snow covered peaks.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Michael agreed.
“I never even imagined,” she breathed, staring out the window.
“I came here skiing once or twice with friends when I was younger,” Michael told her, looking over her shoulder at the fantastic view.
Nikita opened and closed her mouth to relieve the pressure on her ears as she felt the plant descent. The pilot’s voice came over the speaker.
“We should be landing in about 10 minutes, Mr. Samuelle,” he informed them.
Nikita watched in fascination as the plane descended, banked, and then gently touched down on the tarmac. There were snow drifts on either side of the runway, and Nikita was glad that Walter had given her a beautiful mink coat for Christmas.
As they prepared to deplane, Michael took Nikita’s arm.
“Remember, when we are in public, we must keep up the façade for now, ‘kita,” he warned gently. “Our trip will be spoiled if the media find out we are here.”
Nikita nodded and then leaned in for a quick kiss before the doors were opened. The flight attendant opened the cabin door and waited for an airport employee to bring a rolling ladder. Nikita could see the waiting limousine and breathed in her first breath of Swiss air.
The hotel was lavish and beautiful and private. The staff had been forewarned by Gail that the couple was not to be disturbed and that, under no circumstances, were the press to be allowed to bother them. The Swiss hotel manager assured her of the hotel’s discretion.
The first week was idyllic, and Michael and Nikita enjoyed the time together alone. They made love, toured St. Moritz, soaked in the hot tub, and baked in the sauna. The paparazzi were conspicuously absent, and Nikita reveled in the “normal” time she had with Michael.
During their second week, everything changed. An American tourist staying at the hotel snapped a picture with his camera phone of Michael and Nikita together at dinner. Within hours, the tabloids had gone to print with various headlines remarking on the couple’s relationship. The next day, the photographers descended on St. Moritz effectively trapping Michael and Nikita in their suite.
Nikita sighed as she let the curtains fall back into place. She had been staring out the window at the beautiful mountains. They had been planning to take a sleigh ride that day.
“We might as well go back, Michael,” she said, dejectedly, flopping into a deep armchair.
“I have another idea,” Michael said, turning from the fire.
Nikita glanced over at him, curiosity shining in her eyes.
“We could go to Marseille,” he suggested softly.
“Really? Michael, could I meet your family?” she asked, scooting to the edge of her seat.
“Yes, of course. My sisters have been emailing me insistently since they found out we are in Switzerland,” he said with a rueful smile.
“Oh, Michael. I would love that,” Nikita said getting up and pulling her suitcase out of the closet.
Michael laughed and helped her to hoist the large suitcase onto the bed. “I’ll call down to the desk and see if they can arrange for a plane to take us,” he told her.
Michael left her to her packing and picked up the phone, hoping they could get a flight out that day. He was relieved that Nikita was so anxious to meet his family. He didn’t know how the meeting would go; he wasn’t anxious at all.
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |