He was as gentle as ever, but he forced her into the chair and leaned down to wipe at a tear on her face with his thumb. “Don’t cry, Evangeline. I can take a lot of things, but I don’t have the first clue what to do when you cry. It tears me up inside. Let me take care of this bite for you and then we’ll talk.”

She hated that he sounded so reasonable. Almost sweet. The ring of truth was in his statement and that made her want to cry more. She took a deep breath and forced her emotions under a semblance of control—another thing she’d learned as a child in the dark.

“The kit is in the bathroom under the sink. Just see to the bite and go. I don’ want you here ever again.” She sounded like a broken record and she didn’t know if she was trying to convince him or her. The thought of what he would lure her into was horrendous to her. Impossible to even contemplate. A lair of vicious leopards. Cruelty. Depravity. He was a criminal and that just made it more certain. And yet . . . she couldn’t imagine never seeing him again. That was equally or even more terrifying.

She watched him go into her bathroom and crouch beside the sink. She should have run for the back door and made a break for it. Brice was most likely somewhere outside. He or one of the other two cops were usually around if Alonzo was in the bakery.

“Don’t try it, malyutka. You won’t make it and then you’ll be even more upset than you already are.”

He didn’t even turn around and he’d known what she was thinking. She didn’t bother to confirm or deny that he was right. Instead, she admired the silent, fluid way he moved. She saw the leopard in him, the way his roped muscles rippled beneath his immaculate suit as he returned to her and opened the first aid kit.

“If you can’t stop lying to me, don’t speak, Evangeline,” he said, sweeping the hair from her shoulder to expose the bite. “I hear the truth, the same as you.”

“I don’ understand. You were determined to leave me alone. All those months you kept comin’ into the bakery. You barely spoke to me.” That had hurt. Really hurt. She had convinced herself the interest was all one-sided. And then he’d been gone for those weeks. Endless weeks. She counted the days. The hours. Even the minutes at times. She worried about him. Couldn’t sleep at night. Wondered if he was with another woman. Afraid he’d been killed.

“You know why.” His voice was a thread of sound. “This may sting.”