Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 139934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 700(@200wpm)___ 560(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 700(@200wpm)___ 560(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Deliberately, she bumped her hip against Evangeline’s in passing. When her boss turned to look at her, she mouthed, “Text Timur. Make certain he’s all right.”
Evangeline nodded, and kept working as though they hadn’t consulted at all. She drew three more drinks and sold fifteen pastries, all to one table before she pushed open the door to the kitchen to get another tray out. Ashe saw her pull her phone from her pocket.
She smiled at Ray, who was hovering. “Another? Are you certain? You’re getting double shots. You’ll be unable to fall asleep if you keep it up,” she warned. Then she could have groaned aloud when she saw his inevitable grin at her choice of words.
“You come out with me tonight and I can show you why sleeping is overrated,” he said, leaning one elbow on the counter.
Deep inside, she felt that alien being, her cat, stretch languidly. It was really weird knowing she was a shifter, like her mother and father, that all along a leopard had been dormant inside her. She’d dreamt of having her own leopard after her parents had shown her theirs. She’d wanted one, but now, she was very aware the mood of the leopard could affect her own mood.
“I’m thinking that’s as cheesy as hell, Mr. Harding.” She flashed him a look from under her lashes, all too aware several of the cops in the room were listening. She leaned closer, as if she was being conspiratorial. “What’s with the sudden show of the boys in blue? Not that I’m complaining, you all make me feel very safe, but we’ve never had this many in at one time.”
Ray leaned one hip against the counter and turned to survey the room. “We took a vote this week and this bakery won, hands down, as the best in San Antonio. Everyone wanted to try Evangeline’s pastries.”
He wasn’t a good liar. The fact that he was lying made her more anxious than ever. Why were they there? She smiled at him as she took his money. Cash. She was meticulous about giving him his change. She had a sudden nightmare vision of being hauled off by several cops for stealing pennies from Ray.
“Call me Ray, not Mr. Harding. Mr. Harding is far too formal for a beautiful woman to be calling me. You’re making me feel old.”
“You’re a customer, and Evangeline told me to address all customers by their surnames if they give it to me. You gave it to me.”
“Clearly a mistake,” he said.
She knew he waited for her to acknowledge his given name, but she pretended to be busy straightening pastries in the case.
He sauntered away, trying to look casual. Timur always looked casually powerful, a look Ray hadn’t learned to pull off yet. She nearly groaned as she took the next order. She had it bad for Timur already and she hadn’t been around him all that much. She must really have a thing for dangerous men.
The bell over the door sounded and she suppressed a little sigh as she glanced up. They hadn’t had a break during the morning and now the afternoon crowd showed no sign of slowing. Two men came in and her heart sank. They had every sign of being leopard with their stocky, fighter builds. They wore business suits, a dead giveaway as far as she was concerned. The bakery got its share of the business crowd, but the suits didn’t go with the toughness neither man could quite conceal.
Directly behind the two men were Kyanite and Rodion. She recognized them from being in the bakery the day before. Evangeline had pointed them out as Fyodor’s security. That made her even more anxious. She didn’t want Fyodor anywhere near his wife’s Small Sweet Shoppe, not with two men she suspected were there to kill her and a room full of police officers.
Her heart jumped and then began to pound. Kyanite flashed a grin at her and stepped around the two men who appeared to be reading the chalkboard menu. Now he was in front of them and Rodion was behind them.
“Twenty-ounce latte,” he said and mouthed the words, “Just breathe. This is under control.”
What was under control? How did Evangeline do it? She was busy with a customer, laughing, acting like she didn’t notice the potential war developing. Ashe forced air through her lungs. If she was contemplating, even for a moment, being a gangster’s moll, she wasn’t going to get far applying for the job. When the question came about how she did when cops and hit men were in the same room, she was going to flunk big-time.
Then her leopard was there, rolling around like a kitten, purring loudly so that Ashe couldn’t fail to feel the stroking caresses along the insides of her body. That friction created a blossoming need that struck fast and ferociously, adding to her anxiety. Had Timur been there, she would have dragged him to the ladies’ room by his ridiculous tie and had her way with him. Multiple times. Because, seriously, with the monster need so urgent, painfully throbbing between her legs, she was certain once wouldn’t be enough to put out the fire.