This was what Fyodor had found with Evangeline. She tamed the beast in him just by being in close proximity. Timur refused to allow his heart to accelerate, or the adrenaline to be released into his bloodstream. Just because, for a few short minutes, his leopard hadn’t clawed for freedom and blood, it didn’t mean this woman would do for him what Evangeline did for Fyodor.
He turned abruptly and followed her out. She was walking across the shop floor, straight to the counter. The way she moved in her jeans was a work of art. His heart did a funny stutter as he watched her talk to Evangeline for a moment and then step behind the counter.
“Evangeline?” It was a demand. Nothing less. She couldn’t hire someone, as she’d clearly done, without following protocol.
Evangeline tried to win in a stare down, and it wasn’t happening. She sighed and came out from behind the counter to catch his arm and guide him across the room, presumably out of earshot, although the bakery wasn’t that large and he figured whatever she said was going to be overheard.
“I know. I’m sorry, Timur, but she needed a job and she has experience. I can’t keep having your men, who break my things, try to pretend they’re baristas. They aren’t. I know why you want them in the shop, but they’re losing me customers. She’s fast, knows her drinks, remembers customers’ names and doesn’t glare at them or intimidate them in any way.”
“Damn it, Evangeline. She could be anyone. What did she do? Just wander in off the street?”
“That’s how most people come in. And she is someone,” Evangeline sounded more defiant than sorry. “I need the help.”
“You could have told us and we’d have found you someone. Fuck. Her name is a joke. Ashe Bronte? That’s ridiculous. No one is named that. Maybe a fucking porn star.”
“Keep making fun of my name and every time you order a drink, I’m going to put something in it you aren’t going to like,” Ashe muttered under her breath.
She said it softly enough he knew she didn’t think he could hear. He hadn’t bothered to speak that low, but still, she had good hearing. Her jeans were tight enough that he could see she wasn’t hiding a weapon, but her breasts were generous enough that she might conceal a knife there. A garrote could be sewn into clothing, and she wore boots that had room for a gun.
“That isn’t very nice, Timur,” Evangeline pointed out. She lowered her voice even more. “Is she a porn star? Have you seen her in movies? She’s gorgeous enough.”
“How the fuck would I know? You think I spend my time looking at porn movies and jacking off? Why is it that I always get into very inappropriate conversations with you? Sweet God in heaven, woman, you’re the bane of my life.”
Abruptly he spun around and hurried out of the shop, swearing again under his breath when Evangeline’s soft laughter followed him. He looked right and left, and then studied the rooftops before he opened the door to allow his brother out onto the sidewalk. The moment he did, Gorya slid out and flanked Fyodor, covering his back. They walked in step and Timur noted that Fyodor was getting used to having bodyguards. He was much more in sync with them then he had been.
They’d already gone through an attack on their family. Evangeline had been targeted. Mitya, a cousin, had been badly wounded when those targeting her tried to kill Fyodor. Timur knew Fyodor felt responsible for that. He had been a little more cooperative ever since. All of them knew it was a matter of time before the real enemy discovered where they were—hiding out in the open.
Fyodor had been living as Alonzo Massi, but after the attack that had nearly killed Mitya, he took his real name back. Timur was grateful for that. He was Russian and proud of who he was, but he was also a bodyguard; chances were, by taking his real identity back, Fyodor was going to have some serious enemies coming after him. They would be coming for all of them.
Timur opened the door for his brother, but stepped inside while doing so. He wanted to keep an eye on the newcomer. If she went for a weapon, she was dead. The idea of killing her didn’t sit well with him and he kept his body between the new barista and Fyodor at all times. It was easy enough when Fyodor had eyes only for Evangeline.
She came to him immediately, no hesitation. Timur knew better than to look at them. He kept his gaze sweeping the sidewalks through the glass and then back to the new woman. She was looking at Evangeline and Fyodor, and color had swept over her face.