Your Wish Is My Command (14 page)

Jamie rubbed her arms and shivered as she let herself into her bedroom. She flopped down on the bed and pulled off her shirt. Okay. So maybe she actually sort of wanted to believe that he was exactly what he said he was.

There. She'd admitted it to herself.

Which only meant more problems. Pirate genie or no, she did
not
want him to go matching
her
up with anyone. She was really serious about her commitment to remaining single. Two strikes were enough. She didn't need three. Which did nothing to explain those little fantasies she had about riding the high seas with Sebastien. But those were exactly that, she consoled herself—fantasies. Just like his whole being was a fantasy. And she was certainly allowed to keep her fantasies, right?

Right. Just as long as she didn't marry them.

She tossed her clothes in the vicinity of the hamper and stepped up into the bathroom. It had been converted from an old closet some decades ago. It was tiny, just enough room for a sink, toilet, and tub, but she liked the old-fashioned porcelain fixtures and spigots. She wasn't too crazy about the old-fashioned way the plumbing delivered a wide range of tempera-
as it saw fit, but she was getting to know its little foibles. She turned the handles of the shower and winced as the pipes groaned and squealed.

Her thoughts drifted back to Sebastien. If only she hadn't taken that stupid bet. Maybe she could have wangled a different third choice, leaving her love life out of the whole soul-matching equation. But she
had
taken the bet. She brightened as another thought occurred to her. If Sebastien didn't make the love connection between Ree and Angel, then technically the bet was over and she'd won. There was no clause in there anywhere about giving him multiple tries at it. That meant no match for her. She immediately felt better.

Then there was the matter of the sword. She'd tossed and turned in bed the other night, trying to figure out a way to ultimately prove his claims, one way or another. And she realized she'd forgotten all about the sword. He had taken Ree's property, and she had no idea where it was. Or, for that matter, where Sebastien was when he wasn't intruding on her life at the oddest moments.

Although she was having a hard time being all that upset over today's intrusion. It had turned out to be a fun and exhilarating afternoon. With reluctance, she was also forced to admit that racing over the open water had been only a small part of that exhilaration.

She stepped into the shower. Yep, it had been so exhilarating she'd never gotten around to asking him about that sword or anything else. She worked a rich layer of lather into her skin as she contemplated just what it was about him that captivated her to the point of ignoring major danger signs and allowing him to remain not only in her life but in those of her friends. Jamie suddenly realized that her hands had slowed in their soaping motion and she was getting
lathered in a way that had nothing to do with suds. “Oh, for heaven's sake.” She rinsed, shut off the water, and stepped out, toweling off quickly.

Well, pirate or not, she had to know the truth for sure. So while he launched Operation Angel, she would launch Operation Pirate. She'd put all her research skills to good use—and see what she could discover about Monsieur Sebastien Valentin.

As it turned out, Operation Angel got under way first. She had to hand it to him. He didn't waste any time.

Her first clue that fireworks had been launched came two days later when she was in the back loading books onto a cart for shelving. Even with the Cajun twang of BeauSoleil playing over the shop speakers, she still heard Ree shouting. And using the kind of language normally reserved for dockworkers.

What in the hell was going on out there? The shop didn't even open for another ten minutes. Well, whatever was going on, at least it wasn't going on in front of paying customers.

Ree launched another volley, slowing Jamie's footsteps as she emerged from the back room pushing the cart.

“Sugar, I don't care what you believe!” Ree went on, her decibel levels drowning out Michael Doucet on the fiddle. She stabbed a finger toward something—or someone—Jamie couldn't see.

Had some poor, misguided delivery guy stepped over the line? Again? She shook her head. Ree most definitely invited men to look and enjoy, but only the truly foolish tried to touch.

“I believe what this paper says.” This from a voice much deeper—if not any quieter.

Jamie froze. Oh, God. She knew that voice. Angel.

was Sebastien
thinking
,sending him right into the shop? It was like sending a lamb directly into the slaughterhouse.

Except Angel was no … well, angel. He could hold his own. And then some.

Jamie watched as Ree snatched the note and read it, her eyes widening until her lashes brushed the sculpted arch of her eyebrow. “What on God's green earth would ever cause me to send you a note like this? This is obviously someone's idea of a sick joke.” She crumpled the paper in her fist. “And, sugar, I don't know anyone that sick.”

“It was delivered to me at Santini's last night. I believed it to be your handwriting. I've certainly seen your signature on enough legal documents to recognize it.”

She leveled a look at him. “Who delivered this? What did he—or she—look like?”

Angel shook his head. “I never saw the messenger. My maítre d'brought it back to me.”

Jamie was itching to see what the note said. Although whatever it said, it hadn't worked. A meeting set up by an anonymous person was too simplistic for someone like Sebastien. He had to know it was going to take more than a note to get these two to speak civilly.

She caught herself there. Was she actually wanting Sebastien to succeed? No. Nonsense. She just wanted more of a contest than this lame effort. That had to be it.

“Well, I certainly didn't write or sign this.” Ree smoothed the paper, then frowned as she looked over the handwriting again.

Jamie found herself smiling. Nice touch there, she thought. Although how he'd managed to copy her handwriting she had no idea. At least it had stopped the shouting.

“Then I suppose I have no business here,” Angel said. He nodded sharply and turned to the door.

Jamie caught herself opening her mouth. To do what? she thought, shutting it abruptly. Call out to Angel and get him to stay? Ridiculous. She'd promised not to interfere. And even if she did, it certainly wasn't going to be to
help
Sebastien.

“Wait a minute,” she heard Ree say.

Jamie's attention was riveted to the door when Angel paused and looked back over his shoulder. He definitely had that whole Antonio-Banderas-does-Zorro thing going. Ponytail and all. He was a gorgeous man, no doubt about that. He wore his tailored clothes almost as beautifully as Sebastien did. The morning sun shone through the door, casting a halo around his dark hair. An archangel, she thought. Either that, or he looked like one of Sebastien's former compatriots on the high seas.

Maybe that was why Sebastien had chosen him. He'd seen a kindred spirit. Except that while they both had swarthy good looks and were fiercely intent on getting what they wanted, Sebastien went about it with gallantry. Whereas Angel filed lawsuits and threw money at it.

Jamie swallowed a snort of disgust. No way would Ree ever look at Angel as anything other than the supreme pain in the ass he was.

“Yes?” he asked at length.

“Why?” When he raised a puzzled eyebrow at her question, Ree added, “Why did you respond to this note? I'd have thought you would tear it up or spit on it.”

“You don't know me very well then,” he said quietly.

“I think I have a fairly good idea how you react to demands,” she responded. “If I
had
sent you some-
thing like this, I'd have at the very least expected you to say that if I wanted an audience, then I could come to your castle.”

“Castle? Is that how you see me? A pompous king who expects his minions to dance in attendance to his whims?” He turned toward her. “Or perhaps you thought I'd feel threatened by someone like you if not on my own turf.”

“Someone like me?” She shook her head but smiled. “Now you're acting like I'd expect you to. You don't know me very well either. But, then, you never made an effort to look past your own narrow-minded preconceptions. In that respect you're just like every other man I've ever met. Except, of course, your grandfather.”

Even from the distance where Jamie stood, she could see him stiffen, his eyes narrow, as that remark hit home. He said nothing but regarded her steadily.

Ree stood straighter and unfolded the arms she had locked defensively in front of her. “Why did you come, Angelo?”

“You surprised me.” He nodded at the note. “It was unexpected. People rarely do the unexpected.” He looked straight into her eyes. “You had my attention. For a moment, anyway.” He turned and let himself out of the shop.

Ree stood there, mouth open, fists tight by her sides.

Jamie pushed the cart to the front of the store. “Pompous ass,” she said.

Ree spun around. “Oh! That … that … rrrrrr,” she spluttered, her eyes blazing.

Jamie was about to jump in with another two cents—after all, she'd kept her promise and not interfered—but stopped when she looked at Ree. Ree was hopping mad, no doubt about that. Given the fact
those two had tangled before made the whole scene rather unsurprising. But Jamie hadn't counted on the other emotion she saw in Ree's eyes. Hurt.

Had Angel hurt her? Ridiculous. Yes, he'd said some unkind things, but not even in the ballpark of the comments that had flown fast and nasty way back during the court hearings. Ree had staunchly defended Edgar but had refrained from responding to Angel's baser assumptions. She'd known the will wasn't likely to be challenged successfully, so she'd let Angel think what he would. Angel had dug up the information on Ree's unusual upbringing and looked no further. The daughter was obviously just like her stripper, gold-digging mother. Like she'd said, he certainly wasn't the first man to underestimate her.

Jamie had spent some time with Ree during the final hearing. She'd seen her friend spitting mad during the final probate process—but she'd never seen her hurt. Had she just not been looking closely enough? No. She'd have known. Angel had the capacity to incite fury, but Ree didn't care enough about him to allow him the rare luxury of being important enough to hurt her. She'd been angry only on Edgar's behalf.

So what had happened here just now? What had changed?

Damn, Sebastien!

“Ree?” She placed a tentative hand on her arm and patted her awkwardly. It seemed much easier when Ree did it. “Don't let him get to you. He's not worth it.”

Ree snapped out of her sputtering anger. “No, he's most definitely not.” But the hurt lingered around her eyes. “What in the hell was that all about anyway? Who would send him something like this? And how did they copy my handwriting so well?”

swallowed hard and knew she wasn't a good enough actress to wipe the guilty look off her face.

Ree's eyes narrowed and she gave Jamie a hard look, then shook her head. “No, no way would you do something like this. It's not your—”

She stopped when Jamie shook her head and said, “No, Ididn't do it.”

Ree's eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Sebastien?” The name came out on a hushed, stunned whisper. Before Jamie could say anything, Ree tipped her head back and hooted with laughter. In fact, she laughed so hard Jamie was afraid she'd pull a muscle or something.

“Hey, want to let me in on the joke? I'm surprised you're not jumping down my throat for not warning you.”

That stopped her. “You knew? About the note?”

“No, I just knew he planned to try and match you with Angel.” She held out her hand. “Trust me, Ree, if I hadn't promised already not to interfere, I would have said something. And really, it's not like there was a chance in hell of him succeeding.”

“So you just let him put that guy in my path again? What kind of friend are you? Jamie Lynne, I'm shocked.”

“I'm sorry, Ree. I said I'd let him try but if things didn't look good I'd step in. You handled him, though. I knew you would. He won't be back,” she added, trying to make them both feel better.

Ree looked at her. “So you promised to give him a shot at matching me up, huh? I'm guessing he's taking credit for Marta and Bennett.”

“I can't prove otherwise.”

Ree brightened then. “Oh! I see. You figured that him failing to match me up was a way to end this whole genie charade once and for all.” Ree's smile
as she looked closely at Jamie. Her expression changed. “Wait a minute, you're beginning to believe this guy, aren't you?”

Jamie looked sheepish but didn't deny it. “I don't know what to believe anymore, Ree.” She spread her hands. “I mean, my head knows this has all got to be some wacky make-believe fantasy. ”

“Uh-oh, sugar. I'm not liking the direction this is goin'. Your heart is tellin'you something else, right?”

Jamie tried a weak laugh. “I know, I know, don't say it. We all know what a great track record my heart has.” Her tone was more beseeching than defensive. “I'm not saying I'm falling for the guy or anything.” She scowled when Ree merely lifted one elegant eyebrow. “I'm not! But I gotta tell you, he's getting more and more convincing with this whole thing.” Ree smiled then, a bit wickedly if you asked Jamie. “Until today. He didn't exactly bat a thousand trying to match me up with Angelo the Hun.” Jamie didn't say anything. She couldn't get the memory of that hurt look out of her mind.