Leopard's Fury Page 6

  Alonzo was already seated at the table. Emotionless. Pure ice. He didn't glance her way, but she knew he saw her. She shrugged into the sweater and kept working. Alonzo had brought two other men besides Timur and Gorya with him, both leopards. She gave them their drinks and pastries just as more men came through her back door.

  Evangeline didn't know what to think of this new development. Her bakery was a hangout for criminals. It was just a little ironic when she'd left her home in the swamps near New Orleans, traveled to Texas and set up her bakery thinking she'd left all that behind. She couldn't help wanting to laugh. The old adage "out of the frying pan and into the fire" certainly applied. At least business was brisk. Apparently men with guns and criminal activities on their minds were hungry.

  The fourth crime boss entering had been in her bakery a few times. He was older, with silver streaks in his dark hair, a kind face, rather like a grandfather might have. A face others would trust. He smiled at her as she greeted him.

  "Evangeline." The first time he'd come into the bakery, he'd made it a point to know her name and he'd never seemed to forget it. He was charming and sweet, always polite, as were his men.

  "Emilio," she said, giving him her first genuine smile. She'd tried calling him a respectful "Mr. Bassini," but he had insisted on Emilio.

  "How have you been, mia cara?" he asked.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder as she prepared to make his caffe macchiato. "Good, and you?"

  His smile was warm. "Perfect. I need to visit more often. No one does sfogliatelle like you do. As good as when I'm in Naples."

  "Thank you, Emilio. That's the highest compliment anyone could give me."

  She didn't know much about him. She knew if she looked him up on the Internet she'd probably find all sorts of horrible things about him that she didn't want to know. He was a good customer and he brought his men with him. They had also turned into good customers and usually bought out all her cannolis. Now she was fairly certain Alonzo had mentioned her bakery to him. She should be grateful, but right now she didn't want to credit Alonzo for anything.

  There was another group coming in behind her, from her kitchen. Timur led them. The first two men entering were clearly bodyguards and they were all business, their gazes sweeping the room, seeing everything including her. Behind them came their boss, and her breath caught in her throat. She knew all the color leeched from her face.

  Joshua Tregre. Her first cousin. He was the last person she ever thought would walk through her door, and for a moment, the room actually tilted and she thought she might go down. Instead, she caught the counter edge and held on, praying he wouldn't notice any resemblance. He'd never met her. He'd most likely never heard of her. He had been taken away from the bayou when he was a toddler. His mother had run with him back to the Borneo rain forest. His father, her Uncle Renard, had been murdered by their grandfather, Buford Tregre. She had been a well-kept secret from everyone, and she left the moment she was old enough.

  Of course he would be a criminal. Her entire family seemed to be criminals. What difference did it make if Joshua had been raised in Borneo? She supposed it was in their blood. That was why every time she looked at Alonzo that wild part of her reacted.

  She was careful to keep her eyes on her work, not meeting his gaze directly as he placed his order. She didn't want to see recognition there. She was very aware of Timur watching her curiously. She was acting out of character and that wasn't good. Of course he would notice. Alonzo had most likely noticed as well. It didn't matter, she couldn't control her fear so she dealt with it the way she did best. She stayed very calm, kept her voice soft and low, and worked fast and efficiently to get Joshua Tregre and his men to their seats as quickly as possible.

  Evangeline needed to restock and when she started into the kitchen, it seemed as though every bodyguard went on alert. Alonzo nodded at Timur, and Elijah did the same to one of his guards. Both men followed her.

  She began to put various pastries on a tray. "I keep the machine guns in the refrigerator," she sniped, without looking at either man.

  Neither answered her and she didn't care. She walked straight toward the back door. She knew Timur had locked it, but there was no logical reason for her not to step outside into the cooler air. Since she had to wear a cardigan as Alonzo commanded, and it had been a clear order, she was hot. The shop was warm for her customers and working by herself behind the counter made for very hot work.

  "Don't." Timur's warning stopped her in her tracks as she reached for the doorknob.

  She halted, facing away from him, feeling a little sick. "I'm not your prisoner," she snapped. "It's hot workin' back here and I need to cool off."

  "Don't," he repeated.

  One simple word, but his tone made her shiver. He was fast curing her from her apparent--and unfortunate--attraction to criminals. She took a deep breath to keep from doing something stupid, reminding herself that they would leave soon and she could refuse them service. In fact, she was going to put up a sign refusing service to any criminals.

  She couldn't just fling open the door and run for it. That would mean abandoning her business. She'd sunk every penny of the money she'd inherited from her mother into the shop and her house. If she couldn't work, she couldn't pay her mortgage and she'd lose everything.

  She shrugged out of her sweater and turned back toward the two men. Both were watching her warily, as if they expected her to do something crazy and were ready to pounce. The instant she saw them looking at her, she felt Bebe rising.

  Don't. They're leopard. Too close.

  You're upset.

  I can handle it. She breathed away the desire to claw and rake at both men like her female wanted. They had no right to come into her beloved sanctuary, her haven, and order her around.

  She took a quick bathroom break and then hurried to restock. There were so many men eating her inventory, she knew she wouldn't have any left even if the meeting broke up before closing time. She was aware of that hideous man Patrizio Amodeo staring at her, and she wished she'd put her sweater back on. She served a few of the bodyguards, noting only one guard from each crime boss came up at a time, leaving three to watch over their man.

  The phone rang as she turned to go into the back to get her sweater. She couldn't stand being ogled. Not like that. "Small Sweet Shoppe."

  "Hey, beautiful, I'm standing outside and there's a sign saying you've got a private party going on. I need some of your famous cannolis. Just sneak me in."

  Brice. A friendly voice. She glanced through the enormous window and smiled at him. "I can't do that. I do have a private party going on. You'll live without them." She kept her voice low. Whispering almost, trying to create an intimacy between them so she could forget for a moment she was surrounded by criminals.

  "Come on, babe. I won't be able to live without seeing you today. You're my fix. You know that. Meet me at the back door with a box of cannolis then. At least I'll get a chance to ask you out."

  Alonzo's tall, very large body suddenly blocked her view of Brice. He stood solidly in front of her, his back to the others. "Coffee," he snapped.

  She glared at him. That didn't faze him in the least. He stared down at her with dead eyes, pushing the mug across the counter at her. Something in his frozen stare was very, very scary.

  "I've got to get back to work, Brice. See you tomorrow."

  She put the phone down on his protest, filled Alonzo's coffee mug and watched him walk back to the table. God, he was perfection sitting with his back to the wall, totally ignoring her as if she didn't exist while he conducted business. She could look at him all day. The first time she ever saw him, he'd scared the daylights out of her. She knew dangerous. She knew criminal. He was both, but far, far scarier and much more dangerous than anything she'd ever known. Worse, she was certain he was a shifter. Almost certain. His eyes--those beautiful, cold eyes--had given him away. But maybe not. She'd watched him closely and she still couldn't say with certainty--n
ot like she could about his name, which she was very sure wasn't Alonzo Massi.

  She knew certain things about Alonzo, things she was afraid he'd be very upset that she'd learned. He appeared to be Italian. He spoke Italian with a perfect accent, but more and more she was certain he was Russian, not Italian. She still privately thought of him as her Russian Iceman. She also believed Timur was related to him in some way, most likely his brother. Possibly Gorya as well, although he had a different build.

  "Hey! You! Little sexpot," Patrizio yelled. "Come on over here and bring the coffee."

  "I'll be right with you," she said softly, trying not to wince. She'd never been called sexpot before. She supposed, if she tried very hard, she could think of it as a compliment--not that it sounded that way. He made it sound dirty.

  Patrizio Amodeo was in his fifties and clearly thought he was entitled to say or do whatever he wanted. She didn't know if most people were intimidated by him because of what he was, or whether it was simply his arrogance and no one challenged him. He'd been rude when he'd come in, staring at her breasts and licking his lips. He'd said something to his companions who had stared at her as well. She was certain whatever he'd said about her wasn't good.

  "Now, not later. You can't rely on displaying the goods, honey, if you want your little bakery to be successful. You actually have to give it up." He threw back his head and laughed, winking at Elijah.

  Instantly all conversation at the table ceased. The atmosphere in the bakery went from tense to downright frightening. She glanced at Alonzo as she picked up the coffeepot. His face was a mask that could have been carved from a block of ice. His eyes were twin glaciers. Pure blue ice. Not good. He might not want her, but he was protective of her. She had the feeling that he would reach across the table any moment and kill Amodeo.

  Emilio Bassini frowned and looked around the table as if he didn't quite know what to do with the situation. Both Joshua and Elijah appeared as if they were locked in place, unable to move for fear of shattering. She couldn't tell if that was bad for her or good for her, but she didn't want bloodshed in her shop. More, she didn't want Alonzo vulnerable, not for her, and that alarmed her more than the bloodshed. That told her she still wasn't quite over her crush and she needed to be.

  "Evangeline isn't a waitress, Patrizio." Elijah's voice was very soft. "She owns this establishment. When you want a refill you go up to the counter."

  Patrizio leaned back in his seat. His face flushed a dark red and his white teeth disappeared as he glared at Elijah. "We're in the middle of an important discussion here. I'm not going to interrupt everyone when she's just standing there doing nothing."

  Gritting her teeth, Evangeline grabbed the coffeepot and came out from around the counter. She needed to defuse the situation before there was a shoot-out in her bakery. "I don' mind. Does anyone else want a refill?"

  She detested the way Patrizio stared at her breasts as she walked across the room. She'd forgotten she'd removed her cardigan and only wore the camisole. It covered everything, but still emphasized her waist and breasts, not good when she had a jerk for a customer. Alonzo was seated where he always sat, his back to the wall at the end of the table. Patrizio was on his left with Joshua next to him. Elijah sat at the head of the table with Emilio on Alonzo's right.

  All the bodyguards shifted position, spreading out, facing one another. There didn't seem to be a lot of trust, which made her uneasy. The tension was so thick in the bakery one could cut it with a knife. She kept her eyes down as she stepped between Patrizio and Alonzo, looking at the empty coffee mugs, not at any of the men.

  4

  ALONZO'S leopard snarled, raging at the idea of Evangeline in such close proximity to Patrizio. The beast had been prowling close to the surface from the moment Patrizio and his guards had entered the bakery and they both had smelled deceit, cruelty and perversion on him. Talk had flowed around him and of course he'd taken in every word because he'd been trained from birth to pay attention to everything around him, but most of his attention was on Evangeline.

  She was miserable. Angry. Hurt. Everything in him wanted to go to her, wrap her up and shelter her from all of this--from him. From what he was and would always be. He'd noticed the sweep of her lashes covering her beautiful eyes when Patrizio or one of his men spoke to her. He'd noted the color in her face when Brice had called her, flirting with Alonzo's woman. He'd wanted to rip the phone from her hand and throw it across the room. He'd seen the small bead of sweat glistening for a moment on her perfect skin and then sliding down to disappear between her breasts encased in that sweet camisole he wanted to unlace slowly.

  Now she was without her sweater and Patrizio couldn't stop staring at her breasts. His gaze continually went to her, his mouth open, leering. He'd used the excuse of coffee to call her to him. Like a servant. Disrespectful. It would take Alonzo approximately three seconds to kill him. He mapped it out in his mind. He'd move with his leopard's speed, snapping the man's neck and then drawing his weapon as he let go of the dead body. He'd kill all four guards and immediately turn and put a bullet in Emilio's head. He'd have to. Emilio had arranged this meeting, insisting it be held at the bakery. There was a reason for that and it left Evangeline in danger.

  Emilio's guards would retaliate. Alonzo would have to get Evangeline out of the line of fire fast, which meant forcing her to the ground. Timur would take Emilio's guards, and Gorya would head out to the parking lot to do the drivers of both crime bosses. Then there would be the cleanup . . .

  Evangeline moved toward them, her hips swaying in invitation, something she couldn't help. She looked sexy, alluring, her skin almost glowing. Alonzo imagined he could see her nipples pushing against the soft material of her camisole. She was covered, but it didn't matter. There was no missing the fact that she had high, firm breasts, soft and sensual, a constant temptation to a man--and Patrizio was tempted.

  She stepped in between Alonzo and Patrizio to pour the coffee. At once his leopard purred, moving toward the surface to get close to her. Her scent enveloped him. She always smelled of cinnamon and spice. The combination was heady. Irresistible. It was both sensual and soothing to Alonzo and he found himself leaning toward her--close enough--so that the heat of her body touched the frozen ice inside of him.

  Patrizio shifted, a slight, furtive movement that was barely perceptible, but Alonzo's leopard roared and he reached out just as the crime boss tried to slap Evangeline's round ass, cupped so lovingly in her soft jeans. The sound of Patrizio's hand hitting Alonzo's arm was loud in the silence of the room. Alonzo was already on his feet, moving with blurring speed, yanking Evangeline behind him, coffeepot and all. He let go of her to reach for Patrizio, counting the seconds in his head, his movements already practiced and smooth.

  The instant Patrizio tried to touch Evangeline, Alonzo's leopard roared for blood. Alonzo was already on the move, even before his leopard had time to react, something that had never happened before in his life. His beast rose to the surface, fury driving it, even as he started toward the crime boss with his blurring speed.

  "Patrizio." Elijah spoke, holding up his hand to stop the others. His voice was quiet. A whip lashing at the other man. "I asked Evangeline to do me a personal favor and close her shop during business hours because Emilio suggested we use her bakery as neutral territory. She did me that favor, and you've insulted her. In doing so, you've insulted me."

  Alonzo breathed through the heat and fire, the cracking of joints. His jaw ached. His skull felt too tight. His ribs felt as if they would break with the leopard pushing and demanding the kill. Red heat fueled his vision so that he saw in colored bands, heat imagery, and all he saw was targets. He didn't want the leopard to kill the crime boss. He wanted to do it as a man, feeling his head between his hands as he snapped the neck.

  Patrizio looked at the giant of a man standing in front of him. He had no idea how Alonzo had gotten there. No sound, but so fast the man was a blur. He had four guards, all armed, but they
would be up against sixteen guards. Worse, he needed the alliance with these men. He was going to start being picked apart. He'd blown it for a puttana. A whore. He didn't know whom she belonged to, but she caused this, walking the way she did, showing him her breasts.

  "I meant no harm. She's a beautiful woman. It was a compliment to give her attention. I was teasing her a little. No harm done, Elijah." Patrizio sounded appeasing. Just knowing he had to backpedal in order to keep in their good graces infuriated him, but he had no choice. The puttana would pay, just not today. He forced a smile at Elijah, not daring to look into those cold dead eyes of Alonzo's. The man was the walking dead. He lived and breathed but he didn't feel any emotion.

  Alonzo could hear the lies in his enemy's voice. It mattered little that Joshua and Elijah heard them too. Evangeline was his. She was under his protection. He'd brought this down on her, by allowing Joshua and Elijah to override him when Emilio had first come up with the idea of the bakery as a neutral meeting place. He knew Emilio frequented the bakery, but he still questioned the motive for using Evangeline's shop. Was it so obvious to everyone that Evangeline was the draw, not the pastries and coffee?

  Three seconds was all he needed and he would kill the man and his bodyguards and end the threat to Evangeline.

  "Don't." Elijah's voice was a whip of authority.

  The sound of it snaked through the ice in Alonzo's mind like the hot lash. He actually saw the snakelike whip sizzling through the glacier that kept his emotions from playing a part in his life. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to stay still.

  Elijah and Joshua were also on their feet. Bodyguards instantly squared off with the others in the room. Emilio sat quietly looking around at the men standing as if he were a bit puzzled by everything. Amodeo's bodyguards rushed to get to him, one knocking into Evangeline's arm as he swept in close to his boss. The coffeepot fell from her hand to the floor, shattering. A dark stain, much like a puddle of blood, spread across her tiled floor.