Page 4 of Gilded in Blood

I should maybe say something polite, turn around, and go find whoever my brother actually sent. But his stare pins me in place, and my brain seems to have lost any connection to my mouth.

He speaks first, voice low and rough. “Was the prison cell so comfortable you didn’t want to leave anymore?”

I blink, momentarily stunned. “Huh?”

He uncrosses his arms slowly. “I’ve been waiting. You were bailed out a while ago. What took you so long? Having a beauty treatment in there or something?”

The sarcasm snaps me out of my daze. I straighten my spine, tilting my head as I study him. “Wait… excuse me. Who are you?”

He pushes off the car with lazy confidence and walks around to the passenger side. The door opens with a soft click. “Ilya,” he says simply, as if that explains everything. “Your brothers sent me to get you. I’m the one who bailed you out.”

I open my mouth, then close it again. This is him? The person Mikhail was talking about on the phone? I glance at the low-slung sports car, then back at the mountain of a man standing beside it.

“We should get going. Get in.”

I’m supposed to climb into that tiny space with him? This walking weapon who looks like he could snap someone in half without breaking a sweat… and who somehow makes my pulse race just by existing?

I’m not easily stunned. I grew up around plenty of Bratva men, and I’ve seen more than enough good-looking ones. None of them ever fazed me. But right now, my brain feels a little short-circuited.

CHAPTER TWO

Milana

Ilya holds the door open, one dark eyebrow lifting. “Chop chop, princess, get into the car. We don’t have all night.”

I pause at his tone. “Shouldn’t you talk to me with more respect?” I don’t know who this man thinks he is. Good looking or not, his attitude is beginning to piss me off. “I don’t like your tone.”

“Well, too bad I don’t give two fucks about your feelings. Get your ass into the car, we need to get moving.”

I consider telling him to go fuck himself, but it’s late, and I need a ride back to my dorm. Besides, Mikhail will lose his mind if he finds out I ditched the man he sent to get me. I’ve already given him and Artyom enough reasons to be pissed off tonight.

I let out a huff and make my way toward the door he’s holding open. The scent hits me the second I walk past him, leather and something woodsy, dark and masculine, like smoke and cedar wrapped around pure danger.

I catch myself inhaling deeper before I can stop it, my body reacting on instinct. Heat flares low in my belly. What the hell am I doing? I’ve never responded to a man like this. Not once. Not ever. To make things worse, he’s a stranger my brother sent, and I’m already acting like some breathless schoolgirl.

I mentally slap myself and slide into the passenger seat, the cool leather kissing the backs of my thighs. Just before I’m fully settled, he leans down slightly, one hand still on the door.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

I pause, looking up at him. “Welcome for what?”

He closes the door with a solid click and rounds the car, folding his massive frame into the driver’s seat. The interior suddenly feels even smaller, his presence filling every inch of space.

“For getting you out of jail,” he says, voice low and edged. “Most people have the manners to say something when someone keeps them from spending the night in a cell.”

I buckle my seatbelt, smoothing my dress down as far as it will go, which isn’t far. “I guess I don’t have manners then.”

“No doubt about that.”

Okay, this guy is beginning to really get on my nerves. “First of all, I wouldn’t have spent the night there. Sarah, my roommate, would’ve come through eventually. Second, I don’t need to thank you. My brother sent you. He’s the one who arranged this, right? You’re getting paid to do it. So why are you acting like you swooped in out of the goodness of your heart?”

Something flashes in his eyes, anger, for a split second, before he masks it behind that cold, controlled expression. He starts the engine, the powerful rumble vibrating through the seats.

“And where is this roommate of yours? Because I don’t see her anywhere.” He makes a show of looking out the window.

Asshole.

“You know, for someone whose job is driving people around, you sure talk a lot.”