Page 46 of Impenitent Claim

Disobeying, I dug the barrel into his side. “Go back to Chicago, Elijah.”

He bent low, his cheek grazing against mine. The contact sent a terrible thrill through me. “Ilya. My name is Ilya, the other is the Anglicized version.”

My throat worked hard to swallow past the thick lump lodged there.

“And know this, sweet siren: It would be easier to ask the winter wind to stay away now that I’ve found you.” His dark promise wrapped around me, shrouding me in the most delicious and sensual shadow.

A terrible boom, followed by a volley of gunfire broke down the hall. It might as well have been in another time and place, so captivated was I with his presence.

“Bombs,” the spectre rasped. With inhuman speed, he disarmed me, spun me around, and pushed me forward. “Move!”

I lunged for my gun, but the effort was futile. It made me feel childish, this big brute of a man holding my weapon out of my reach. The Russian growled at me, and whatever he said didn’t sound nice. The next second, his arm was around my waist, and he hauled me off my feet as if I were a limp rug.

Beating against his thighs was useless.

Cold air blasted against my bare skin. I quit fighting him long enough to look up and examine my surroundings.

“There’s fighting around the vehicles in the front parking lot,” my stalker clipped out.

Gio!

I struggled and bucked.

“Will you quit?” He bounced me hard.

“My brother,” I panted.

“Has escaped with the don and his imbecile of a son.” The cage fighter set me down unceremoniously on the ground.

“Don’t call him that! Ever,” I hissed and smacked my fist into the hard mass of chest. “Alonzo is not an imbecile.”

Something in my tone made the monster pause.

“He’s special. And a really nice guy.” I punctuated each statement with another jab.

The Russian caught my fingers. “Nice guys don’t survive our world, Isabella.”

“I know,” I growled. “He’s a sitting duck, an easy target! Someone is going to take him out for the fun of if someday. But not while I’m there. I won’t let them. I won’t let anyone hurt him, or my brother!”

His lips pressed into a thin line. My gaze dropped to them, remembering how they felt against my body.

“Take these and drive straight to your palace. Can you manage that?” he drawled, dropping keys into my hand.

I narrowed my gaze, snapping it to his. “Yes, jackass. I don’t need a babysitter.”

A dark smirk pulled at his lips. He leaned down so that his frame closed around me. “No, princess, what you need is an attitude adjustment.”

“Oh, and I suppose you think yourself capable of giving it to me,” I sneered.

His hand shot out, snatching my wrist, and he spun me around. There was a split second before his palm cracked across my ass.

I gasped, eyes popping wide. Did he just—

A second and a third swat fell on my backside. The layers of material might as well have been tissue thin. My skintingledfrom the contact. Thankfully there was little light out here, because my cheeks infused with heat, just as wetness pooled between my legs. I struggled between indignation and arousal.

The Russian left me with no time for either. “Now sit your smart ass in that car and get the fuck out of here.”

Shooting him a glare that promised retribution, I wrenched the door open and slid into the driver’s seat. He held my stare for a second before the door slammed and he smacked the hood.

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