He sank back into his chair, his gaze fixed on Ashe. She was making drinks and handing out pastries. There was always a smile on her face, but he didn’t quite believe it. Each time the little bell tinkled over the entrance, signaling another customer, her eyes jumped to the door. She was worried. Scared. That presented an entirely new set of dangers.
If she was leopard—and he was certain she was—and her leopard hadn’t emerged, it would be like his uncles to send her in to assassinate Fyodor. His uncles were reputed to be even crueler and much more vicious than Timur’s father had been, and they had sworn to see Fyodor dead for killing their brother. It didn’t matter to them that the kill had been justified.
Fyodor had walked in on a bloodbath. Their father had already brutally murdered their mother and had been beating Timur and Gorya to death because the two boys had tried to stop him. Fyodor had killed him and then gone after the senior members of his father’s lair in order to stop them from killing the women. Now, their uncles were out for their blood. They’d put bounties on their nephews’ heads, and now that Fyodor and his brother were no longer hiding behind false identities, the assassins would come to collect. It would make sense to send a female.
Timur studied Ashe as she worked. She was fast. Really fast. Sometimes he thought she would make a mistake, but she never did. Her handoff was smooth, and she moved with a fluid grace that seemed too honed to be entirely natural. As if she were in complete control of every muscle, every movement.
He really wanted to yell at Evangeline. Ashe made no sense at all, but she was strikingly beautiful. The more he looked at her, the more he thought so. She was model material, but then she didn’t have the height. Her skin looked so soft he found himself wanting an excuse to touch her, just to see if it was as soft as it appeared.
She had tied her hair in some messy knot that kept falling out and she’d have to redo it. That told him she hadn’t worked in the food service industry in a while, otherwise she wouldn’t have forgotten to wear her hair back or covered. Instead, she kept pulling her hair up into that silly mess that had him thinking about bedrooms. Or sex. Or both. The bedroom didn’t matter nearly as much as the sex.
The fact that her hair was so thick even though it was blond told him the odds that she was leopard were even higher. Leopards tended to have a lot of hair no matter what the color. The way she moved was an indicator as well. She suddenly looked up and stared right into his eyes. She caught up the coffeepot and came out from behind the safety of the counter, stomping right toward him. Not a good move.
“Stop staring at me,” she hissed as she poured coffee into his cup. “I mean it. You’re making me uncomfortable. I get that you’re royally pissed that I’m working here. I get why now that I’ve seen Evangeline’s husband, but I need the work, so please just back off.”
He caught her wrist as she turned away. Very gently he removed the coffeepot from her hand and set it on the table, just out of her reach. The last thing he wanted was for her to dump scalding-hot coffee in his lap, and he had the feeling that not only was she capable of it, she’d been considering it. He kept possession of her wrist. “You’re better suited to be a bodyguard than a barista.”
“Why do you say that?”
Her voice was strained. She sounded smooth, but he had a good ear and caught the stressed notes she tried to hide.
“The way you move. You’re trained to protect yourself, and, I suspect, others.”
“Maybe so, but I’m not in that line of work. I’m good at this, and I need the job.”
“How do you know Evangeline?”
“Ask her.”
“I’m asking you.”
She sighed and glanced toward the counter. “I have to work. We’re getting busy again. I know you need answers. Maybe after work I could meet you somewhere.”
“I work until late. Where do you live?”
She hesitated.
Timur sighed. “I’m going to find out anyway. Just fucking tell me.”
“I’m living in Evangeline’s house. The one she used to live in.”
He was glad she didn’t argue about telling him where she lived. Tonight, he’d be with her. Alone. He even liked the idea, which was dangerous for both of them. He let go of her. She immediately rubbed her wrist as if he’d hurt her—or she was trying to get the feel of him off her skin.
The entire time she’d been close, his leopard had been acting like a complete fool, rolling around and making absurd rumbling noises, which, fortunately, no one could hear but him. He ran his finger down her arm to her hand and then indicated the coffeepot. “You forgot something.”