Taking Jana (Paradise South #2) Read Online Free

there.
    She’d be with her dad within an hour, two tops. By his side like she always had been, and always would be. Despite herself, she always would be. Her hand met her chilled cheek, tears streaming down and picking up the bum-rushing AC. First the little girl, then this. She tucked her chin, hiding her emotion from the rearview. God, she hated anyone seeing her cry.

CHAPTER 2
    S he had to grab a few things and go. That one little piece of luggage at the very back of her closet would do. She parted her hanging clothes with shaky hands. There staring at her, held back by her right hand, was her black skirt-suit in plastic. No, no. She wouldn’t prepare for that. She wouldn’t need that.
    Move it, Jana, let’s go! She tossed the carry-on onto her bed and tore through the rest of her closet. Two pairs of shoes, four days of clothes, bras, panties, and then she moved to her bathroom counter for toiletries. She stuffed then zipped, and then looked around before stepping out the door. Sunglasses on the sideboard next to her keys. She threw them on to cover her red puffy eyes, even if it was midnight. Anything else? Her mind whirled. God willing she’d be back soon anyway. A week, tops. Her dad would be fine, and she’d be home again.
    She locked up and left her SoHo rental piece of heaven to get to the uptown C train.
    She hiked her purse strap high on her shoulder as her feet hit the pavement, and gave a corrective tug to her already disobedient piece-of -crap roller bag. At the corner where she needed to cross, she saw the electronic red hand signaling her to stop, but no cars were coming, the crosswalk beckoned, and time was wasting. She stepped out, her luggage thumped off the curb behind her, followed by the loud screech of tires.
    *
    Thankful to be only minutes from Jocelyn’s place now, he drove through the Manhattan maze of dark city streets. Alleys and small parking lots hiccupped between the blocks of closed-down shops, hotels, and apartment condos. No people, no cars, no movement whatsoever except for the turning of the traffic lights through their cycles. He watched the street signs pass one after another, his eyes squinting and anxious for the final turn to deliver Jocelyn Carlson home.
    Ah, Sullivan Street . He was almost giddy making the slow right onto her street when a blur of something caught his eye in his peripheral.
    His foot slammed on the brake.
    “Jesus fucking Christ!” Jocelyn Carlson screamed after thumping the back of his seat with what must have been her head. At least, this time, he knew the thump was unintentional.
    His pulse racing, he threw it in park. The heartbeat in his ears didn’t help drown out the continued backseat rant, so he looked over his shoulder and snapped, “Be. Quiet.” He huffed. “I will be back in a second.” And, miracle from above, his passenger shut her mouth.
    Antonio jumped out and got to the front of his car where his almost-victim stood panting, no, fuming, palms down on his hood.
    He adjusted his chauffeur’s cap, swallowed hard, and cleared his throat. “Ma’am, are you okay? God, I am so, so sorry.” He had been so eager to unload his passenger that he’d taken careless liberties on the less-traveled side streets. This was his consequence. And even though he’d had the right of way, he knew City pedestrians well enough. Thank God he didn’t really hit her, but from her lack of response, he could safely say he’d scared the living shit out of her.
    The petite woman stayed hovered over his hood, chest heaving, like she was catching her life-breath . Her stance looked as if she’d stopped the car herself, superhero style. And the fact that she wore sunglasses at midnight made the scene almost comical, but deadly serious at the same time. Only in Manhattan.
    “Please, miss, tell me are you’re o—”
    “I’m fine,” she huffed. “Just, for God’s sake, be more careful!” She lifted her chin to catch a glimpse of his face, then flicked down