Eventually there was only Alonzo and his four bodyguards left in the store. Evangeline took towels to soak up the coffee and dropped them on the wide stain. She bent to pick up the glass. Alonzo caught her arm, preventing her from dropping to the floor. “We’re going into the kitchen to talk.”

“No, we’re not,” she protested even as he began to propel her across the room. He had a big stride and he used it, taking her with him. “I mean it, Alonzo. You and your men are leavin’ and you’re never comin’ back. Tell me where the cameras are so I can get rid of them.”

His gaze jumped to Timur, letting him know silently that as soon as they were home, at the Arnotto estate, he was going to get pounded into the ground.

“We’ll discuss that in the kitchen,” he said softly. Not in front of his soldiers. He had things to make clear to her and she wasn’t going to like anything he had to say. He wanted her to be able to be as angry as she needed to be, and having a woman yell at him in front of his soldiers wasn’t a good idea. In his business, respect was everything. To protect her and give her the privacy to do what she needed to do, they had to be in the kitchen. He kept walking her right around the counter, even when she turned as if she’d go back.

“Stop it, Alonzo,” she hissed. “I mean it. You don’ have the right to tell me—”

He cut off her protests by simply lifting her into his arms. Cradling her close. Taking the chance she’d rake his face with her nails. He knew her leopard was close because his leopard was purring and strutting, and her eyes were glowing. She looked more exotic than ever and thoroughly pissed.

“Clean that mess up and make certain you get every single splinter of glass.” He gave the command over his shoulder and kicked the door shut behind him.

He set her carefully on her feet and she backed away from him, putting a short distance between them as if that would make her safe.

“I want you gone, Alonzo. I mean it. Leave and don’ come back. I don’ want your friends in my bakery either, so make that happen. I want to know where every single camera is and quit havin’ Timur or Gorya follow me home every night.”

She looked . . . beautiful. Gorgeous. She took his breath away. Her skin was flushed, her eyes so bright they were two emeralds shaped like a cat’s eye with many fascinating facets. A gold ring had formed as flecks merged, telling him that when she was all cat—if that ever happened—her eyes would be molten gold. Lashes were as dark as the long thick hair he wanted to sink his fingers into.