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.