Evangeline looked up, saw the look on Timur's face and glanced at Alonzo. His eyes met hers. He stared at her, trying to feel nothing. Knowing she thought he didn't feel a single emotion, and he hadn't--until he'd walked into the bakery all those months ago and met her. Hurt flashed in her eyes for a brief moment and then she turned her entire attention on Timur.
Her smile. The way she tipped her head slightly to the side and tendrils of her thick, glossy hair curled around her face giving her a sexy, take-me-to-bed kind of look. Alonzo wanted to pound his brother into the ground.
"What can I get for you?"
Her voice. Sin and sex. Alonzo tried not to listen. Tried not to hear or look as his brother ordered and she moved from the counter to the espresso machine to get Timur's drink for him. He couldn't help but watch the sway of her hips. She was wearing soft blue jeans. Nothing special, but they cupped her ass in a way that made his palms itch. He needed to run his hands possessively over her curves. Claim them. She belonged to him, not his brother and not any other male walking into the bakery. She half turned toward Timur when he told her what he wanted from the display case. The movement pulled the thin material of her black-and-white sweater across her full breasts. There was no hiding the fact that she had curves, the kind a man wanted to feel when he took her to bed. Soft. Inviting. All the fuck his.
It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to stay in his seat and watch his brother engage her in conversation when she handed him his coffee and reached into the case for his macaroons.
"I'm Timur, Timur Amurov. And you are?" Timur lifted the drink to his mouth and sipped cautiously.
Alonzo watched him take that first drink and get the look on his face that most of her customers did. The woman knew how to make coffee and drinks. On the other hand, she knew his brother's real name, and his was a fake. When she talked to him, she thought of him as Alonzo, an Italian. He was Fyodor Amurov, from Russia. He was an Amur leopard shifter, and that made him a rarity even among rare shifters. It also made him a member of the bratya. In fact, he was from one of the most lucrative and cruel families involved. His legacy was one of blood and death. Of patricide. Of mass murder.
"I'm Evangeline. It's nice to meet you."
Her voice went right through him. Wrapped around his heart. Fisted his fucking cock until he thought he might scream with need. All the while his leopard purred. Rubbed. Needed like he needed. Alonzo's breath stilled in his body. His leopard only needed one thing--to hunt. He lived for the hunt. He loved the freedom, and he saw everything and everyone as prey. Not Evangeline. He looked at her amorously. That was new.
"Your last name?" Timur pushed as he took the plate of macaroons.
Alonzo heard her heart accelerate. He caught the jerk of Gorya's body as he heard it as well. Timur was relentless, standing still with no intention of moving.
Evangeline turned her head toward Alonzo. "Don't," she said softly.
She knew Timur worked for him. She thought, correctly, Timur was getting information for an investigation, but, incorrectly, that Alonzo had ordered him to do so. His woman had secrets.
"Don't what?" Timur pushed. "Look at me, not him," he ordered. His voice gentled. "I'm just asking for your last name."
She didn't obey him. She kept looking at Alonzo. "I haven't pried. I haven't done one thing to give you cause to do this."
The bell over the door tinkled and Timur instantly spun around, his hand going inside his coat. Three men entered. They were in their thirties and all three looked carefully around, noting Alonzo first, then Gorya and Timur. Right away Alonzo pegged them as undercover cops. They were dressed in casual clothes, jeans and tees stretched tight over muscles. Tattoos down their arms. One had a short beard and mustache. One just the mustache. The third man hadn't shaved in a couple of days.
Timur thanked Evangeline and took his coffee and the plate of cookies in one hand, keeping his other hand free. Of course they had concealed weapon permits. Alonzo had made certain everything was aboveboard should they ever be stopped for any reason. He didn't want that reason to happen there in the bakery. Not with his woman watching.
Timur sank into the chair and grinned at him over his coffee. "That woman is breathtaking. My leopard definitely was soothed, but not interested. There's a difference. Clearly she's a leopard whisperer. When you're close to her, you feel peace. Sounds crazy, but I felt it too." He kept his eyes on the cops without appearing to do so.
"Don't get too used to being close to her," Alonzo warned. Icicles dripped from his voice.
Timur, damn him, grinned wider. "It's not me you have to worry about, moy brat, those three didn't come in here expecting us. And she clearly knows them. They're regulars, and I'm guessing it isn't all about her badass coffee."
"Brice, good to see you. Your usual?"
She sounded like sex and sin to Alonzo every time she opened her mouth. His body was as hard as a rock. His mind was filled with a million ways to kill the newcomers, and his leopard raked at him in a rage at the idea of the three men so close to what was so clearly theirs.
"You bet, sweetheart."
"Sweetheart"? What the fuck was that? It was all Alonzo could do not to leap up and kill the son of a bitch.
"Reeve, Crispin? The usual?"
Both undercover cops nodded, smiling at her, but looking at Alonzo. They turned their bodies slightly, just enough to be able to watch Alonzo, Gorya and Timur yet still flirt with Evangeline.
"You ever going to go out with me?" the one she'd called Brice asked, leaning one elbow on the counter to put his chin in his palm so he could stare at her very enticing ass.
Alonzo's leopard lifted its head and snarled. Alonzo wanted to do the same but he kept his expressionless mask on. The last thing he wanted was for anyone--let alone the cops--to know he was interested in Evangeline. On the other hand, if she said yes, he was going to follow the fucker right out of the bakery and make certain he wouldn't be asking Alonzo's woman out again.
Evangeline's gaze shifted to his for just a moment, to read his reaction no doubt. He should have stayed frozen. He should have kept all emotion out of it. That was what kept him alive and her safe. He gave the slightest shake of his head. He had to warn her. He had to keep as much honesty between them as possible. She had to know dating Brice wasn't in the cards for her. Six months ago. Even two days ago. But he'd walked back into the bakery and she didn't have a man. She'd said she missed him. She'd chosen him. She might not realize that was what she'd done, but she belonged to him and Brice had lost his shot.
Evangeline shook her head, her smile sweet and teasing over her shoulder as she made a drink at the machine for him. "One of these days, you keep asking, Brice, and I might scare you to death and say yes. I'd turn into a clingy, nagging witch and drive you nuts."
"It would be worth it, sweetheart," Brice said, his eyes on her butt, lovingly encased in those tight jeans.
Alonzo wanted to take out his gun and shoot the bastard. The man had no business ogling what belonged to him.
She laughed and set their coffees on the bar in to-go cups. Their pastries went into small paper bags. At least they weren't staying. They'd probably wait around to follow Alonzo and his bodyguards later, but it wouldn't get them anything. They wouldn't want to blow their covers and in a way, that protected Alonzo.
"Throw me a crumb of hope," Brice encouraged. "These two are going to be giving me hell for even trying again." He jerked his thumb at his two companions, who both grinned like idiots.
Alonzo wasn't deceived. Neither were his two bodyguards. They watched without looking, something they'd perfected from the time they were infants and had had to keep an eye on their fathers and older brothers. Their leopards never failed them.
"A crumb? Saying that to a baker is dangerous," she teased.
Her voice didn't have to be so damned soft. Or intimate. Alonzo imagined that alone was enough of a crumb for the cop to return. He consoled himself that he wasn't the only one lying about
his identity to her.
Brice reached across the counter and caught her by the nape of the neck, drawing her close. Everything in Alonzo went still. Ice flowed through his veins. The brutal, vicious killer in him merged with the man trained from birth to take out enemies. He flowed to his feet, too graceful to knock over the table. Timur put a hand on his arm to try to stop him but it was impossible. Both knew it. He was too far gone. Heat banded across his eyes, showing him his three targets in colors rather than images. He could kill all three in seconds. One leap and he'd be on them.
As all three cops turned at his movement, Evangeline took the opportunity to free herself. Immediately she smiled at Alonzo. "You need a refill? No need to get up, I can bring it to you."
That sense of peace she created with her voice, with her calm, instantly overrode the roar of his leopard, the thunder of his blood pounding with the need to remove every threat to his claim on his woman. His leopard backed off as she reached casually for the coffeepot, already out of reach of the three cops. He didn't ever ask for fancy coffee. He liked her natural brew and he took it black. In that moment he was very grateful he did. He forced his body back into the chair, sinking down, breathing deeply, watching her the entire time so his cat could see that no one else touched her.
The bell sounded as the three undercover cops slipped out of the shop. He was aware of them looking over their shoulders at him, but he ignored them now that they weren't close to Evangeline. She came across the room with her coffeepot, not looking at his face now that the threat was gone. Not smiling. Damn it, he'd done that. He deserved that. She poured his coffee without a word, and when she turned to go, he shackled her wrist, at the same time jerking his chin at his brother to indicate he wanted to be alone with her.
Timur immediately rose and wandered to the other side of the room, pretending great interest in the baked goods in the display cases, but all the while watching the streets.
Evangeline looked down at his fingers wrapped around her wrist. She had a small wrist and his hands were large, nearly swallowing not only her wrist but a good part of her forearm. She sighed and put the coffeepot on the table.
"I can't do this with you," she said softly. "You're not bein' fair."
Her accent got to him every time. "Sit down for a minute, Evangeline. You have a few minutes with no customers. The big crowd will be coming in soon."
She hesitated, but he didn't release her. He couldn't have even if he wanted to. Once he had her close to him, he didn't want to give that up. Such close proximity had his leopard rolling around amorously. The crazy cat stretched and unsheathed claws but only to try to push Alonzo to stake his claim legitimately. Impossible in her shop, but he knew soon he would have no choice, not the way his leopard was acting and not the way his body, heart and soul responded to her.
Evangeline slipped into the chair beside him. "I thought we'd agreed this was a bad idea. Was I reading you wrong?"
He kept possession of her wrist, looking down at her hands. She didn't wear paint on her nails. They were cut short and very clean, but completely bare. Her hands were small, but they'd seen work. His heart tripped a little looking at them. No rings. No sign there had ever been a ring, but then she was young. No more than twenty or twenty-one. Young to own a shop.
"You weren't wrong." It came out clipped. Frozen. He didn't know how to be any different than he was so he didn't try to be.
She tried to get her hand back, tugging. He didn't have to tighten his hold, she wasn't going anywhere.
"I'm not a good man." Hell. He wasn't even a man. How did he say that to her? My life is killing. It doesn't matter what form I take, human or leopard; that's who I am. Not what; who. He'd been born into a lair of killers. Of vicious, cruel, cunning killers. He'd been bred for that purpose deliberately. Raised to be what his father and the lair needed. Even in the brotherhood, his family was feared above all others.
"I get that."
He didn't want her to get it or agree with him. He wanted a protest. She didn't give him one, but she didn't stare at the table like most women would have. She didn't cry or look sad. She looked him right in the eye. His Evangeline. His woman. She was quiet and accepting. She didn't even look as if she blamed him.
"I'm protecting you from my life. From me." He tried again. Maybe he needed her to continue looking at him the way she did. He needed her to see him as noble when he was anything but. This wasn't going to end well for her. He tried, for her sake, but he was so far gone. So empty. So alone. So fucking tired of killing. He couldn't fight his leopard forever. He realized that without her, his leopard was going to go insane. He could try to protect her from who and what he was, but if he wanted to survive with his soul intact, he needed her. Sooner or later he'd get too tired, he'd slip up and his leopard would slip his leash.
"I get that." No judgment. Just acceptance.
"You don't," he said, bringing her hand to his mouth. "You don't get it and I don't know how to tell you." He couldn't help himself. His teeth scraped over the pads of her fingers and then he sucked one into his mouth.
"Zashchitit' yeye."
That was the only warning Alonzo got, but it was all he needed. He surged to his feet, jerking her up with him and turned, pushing her face and the front of her body into the wall, covering her with his own. He was big, surrounding her, his arms protecting her head while his body sheltered the rest of her.
There was the sound of brakes locking up. The terrible smash of glass as a truck jumped the sidewalk and hit the front of the store. It came to a shuddering halt with just the bumper and a small part of the hood inside the store. Glass rained down. The truck had taken out the glass door and both picture windows. The aim couldn't have been better. Timur was already striding through the glass to berate the driver.
Very slowly, Alonzo released Evangeline. She turned reluctantly to survey the damage. All color leeched from her face, leaving her shockingly pale, so much so that he locked his arm around her belly and pulled her back against him for support.
"It is only glass, amore. No one was hurt. Timur will get the necessary information and I'll make certain this is repaired today."
People were crowding in, gawking. The driver shook his head, apologizing over and over, handing over his license and insurance and showing Timur the gas pedal had stuck. Timur glanced back at Alonzo. Alonzo scowled at his brother. Of course his brother had arranged the accident. His fault for insisting on frequenting the bakery. He'd made it clear he would continue to go there on a regular basis, even though it wasn't safe. He knew exactly what Timur was up to, and his brother would get the lecture of a lifetime--not that it would do any good.
A little shudder ran through Evangeline's body. She breathed deep and pressed her fingers to her eyes for a moment before her chin went up. "No one can get glass installed that fast. It has to be special ordered and . . ."
"Evangeline." Just her name. A reprimand. He didn't need to say anything else. No matter what, if he said he'd take care of it, he would. She should at least know who she was dealing with. In any case, Timur would have made the order already for bulletproof glass. The workmen would show up very soon. She would lose business today, but he would find a way to make that up to her.
"You can't take care of this for me," she said decisively.
She hadn't made a move to pull out of his arms yet, still so shocked he doubted she was aware that she leaned heavily into him. His leopard was happy, his body, not so much.
"It is done. Timur is already arranging it."
"I don' have the money," she admitted. "The insurance has to be called, and they'll come out and determine what they can do and--"
"It is done." He made that decisive. "Come sit down." He steered her toward the small table again, the one far from the mess.
She glanced at Gorya as she allowed Alonzo to seat her. He calmly finished his coffee, saluting her with the mug. "Nothing seems to throw your friend."
"He likes to eat and drink, that one," Al
onzo agreed.
"I at least should be sweeping up the glass," she protested.
"It will be taken care of." He didn't want her anywhere near the glass. If she cut herself, he'd have to give Timur a beating and Timur wasn't all that easy to put the smackdown on.
3
EVERYTHING had changed--yet nothing had changed. Evangeline wasn't certain exactly what to do about Alonzo. He came to the bakery on average about four days a week now. Two months had gone by since the accident with the truck. He'd had her bakery cleaned up and new glass in by ten that evening, refusing to even consider allowing her to pay him back--and then they were back to normal--except--he talked to her now. Not much, because he still seemed a man of few words, but at least he spoke to her.
Timur and Gorya, his two bodyguards, always accompanied him. They teased her a little bit, at least Gorya did. Timur was very much like Alonzo, quieter and not quick to smile. She'd never actually seen Alonzo smile and he'd been coming to her shop for a year now.
She had to bake far more than when she'd first started because the demand was so high. Her little shop had caught on and soon she would have to hire someone to help her. If business continued to increase, she'd be able to hire help in the next couple of months. She was fairly certain her business had picked up because of Alonzo. She had a couple of celebrities come in a few times. Jake Bannaconni, a local billionaire, had come in saying Alonzo raved about her baked goods and he was taking some home to his wife and children. That was huge. After that, some of his employees began to come.
Timur came into the shop as she opened it. Clearly he'd been waiting for the door to be unlocked. He strode in as she flipped her sign to open and then made her way back to the counter. He had never come in so early before and he seemed much more tense than usual--which meant he was definitely scaring her.
Inwardly she sighed. She had no idea how her little shop had become the hangout for the local mafia, but she couldn't very well ask them to stop coming. Maybe Alonzo would listen to her but she didn't want to go through another couple of months wondering where he was, if he was all right and whom he was with.