“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.”