PAULINA ROSTAKOVA’S ADVENTURES
AUGUST 2
9:34 p.m.
Small town in middle of Russia, hotel room, lying exhaustedly on bed, waiting for Dixon to return with food
We had a lovely night in Yekaterinburg, even though Dixon didn’t want to do anything but stay in the hotel room and do n***d-bunny-s*x things to each other.
“This is a very historic city,” I pointed out to him from the comfort of a small bed-and-breakfast on the fringe of the city. The place came with a small barn in the back, which we used to lock away the Thomas Flyer, allowing us to spend the night with each other rather than watching the car, figuring the likelihood of the Essex team finding us at a B&B would be much smaller than had we stayed at one of the mainstream hotels. “Czar Nicholas and his family were killed here. Yo
