Soft color raced up her neck to her face. She caught up the glass pot without another word and hurried back to the safety of the counter.
His heart settled to normal again and he pressed his hand over his chest while he breathed away the hard-on he hadn’t been able to control and, thankfully, she hadn’t seen. Or at least he thought she hadn’t. She’d kept her gaze studiously away from that portion of his anatomy. It had been far too many years since he’d had problems controlling his body. He had to put it down to his leopard and the fact that a potential mate was in close proximity.
Did she know? Most women didn’t have a clue about their leopards, not until the emergence. Evangeline had known. She’d had a relationship with her leopard almost since infancy. If Ashe didn’t know, then her leopard would as it rose, making her inclined to flirt with every man coming near her, including Gorya and the two clowns that passed for cops. That didn’t sit well with him.
A man came down the sidewalk and passed the shop, barely glancing in. There was nothing about him to catch Timur’s interest, but everything in him went still. His leopard snarled and came to attention. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and kept his eyes on the man dressed in a dark suit. The man paused just at the edge of the window, glanced at his watch and turned around to go back the way he’d come. As he did so, he took a long look through the glass.
Timur cursed inwardly. He should have had that glass tinted more. The shop was busy, and there were a lot of customers, two deep by the counter. He watched as the man hesitated by the door and then went on past it.
“Man in dark suit. You on him? Tall, dark glasses, mirrored.”
“Got him, boss,” Trey Sinclair said. He was on the roof across the street. Timur had two more of his security patrolling the streets and another on the roof of the bakery.Right in the crosshairs.
“What about you, Jeremiah? Can you follow him without getting tagged? This is important. You’re not out in the jungle.” He added the last because the kid needed to be a little humbler and a lot more vigilant. He was young and eager, and he wanted Timur to take notice of him. Timur didn’t like sending the kid into dangerous situations, and he had a gut feeling this man was very dangerous.
“No problem, boss.”
“Cocky little son of a bitch, you listen to me. That man will kill you if he spots you. Don’t fuck up. You do, there aren’t any second chances.”
There was a small silence. Jeremiah might be cocky and full of attitude, but he’d learned that when one of them said something, it was worth listening. They’d grown up surrounded by danger, by vicious monsters; he hadn’t. They had a built-in radar for danger; Jeremiah was just beginning to hone his skills.
“I hear you, Timur. I’ll be doubly careful.”
“I’d rather you lose him than get too close.”
“I understand.”
Timur could only hope the kid did, because even with the target out of sight, every warning bell he had was shrieking at him.2“YOU’RE going to wear a hole in that carpet,” Gorya pointed out. “Pacing isn’t going to bring that kid home faster. Either he’s on his way or he isn’t.”
“I never should have sent that little monster,” Timur said, shaking his head and stepping to the window. Habit had him staying to one side and looking from an angle, careful no one could see him looking out. Fyodor’s mansion was enormous and the carpets were worth a fortune. Timur was fairly certain he couldn’t really wear a hole in the luxurious wool, but he paced often.
“I like the kid. It’s just that he’s so young and eager to prove himself,” he admitted. “I swear, if he gets home safe, I’m calling Drake Donovan and telling him to reassign him to someone else. Let Joshua or Elijah babysit him.”
Gorya shook his head. “You’re training him, not babysitting him. That’s the problem, Timur. You don’t see him as a man.”
Timur had to agree with that assessment, but he’d be damned if the kid was dying on his watch. He couldn’t chance texting the kid because if he was in a compromising situation—like being tortured for information—a call from him would make things worse.
He closed his eyes, seeing a river of blood and hearing the screams of his mother as she was so brutally murdered. He’d seen too many tortures. He’d participated in more than he wanted to admit and he never wanted to see one again. Right now, his body felt like it was watching one, a little in shock, adrenaline racing through his bloodstream so fast he had to work to keep his expression a mask.