Your Wish Is My Command (15 page)

Ree tilted her head. “What? What's going on in that head of yours? Spill.”

Jamie shrugged. “I don't know.” She looked at Ree, really looked at her. “I know Angel made your life hell right after Edgar died. You were grieving and he didn't help that at all. So …”

“So? You're right, he was awful. Still is.”

Jamie took a breath and just blurted it out. “So why did you look so hurt? Just now, when he left.” At Ree's baffled look, she went on. “I know he's said far worse about you, to your face. All he did today was confirm what we already knew about him. So… She shrugged, wishing she hadn't pushed it. “Why did he hurt your feelings this time?”

Now it was Ree's turn to look away and try on a
mask or two. It didn't work any better for her than it had for Jamie.

She finally looked back at her friend. “Maybe I'm just tired of being overlooked.” Now she held her hand up. “I know, I know, I all but ask for it. It amuses me. Men are such dorks about women, you know? I get a kick out of playing them for the fools they are. Or I did. It's all just a game to me, Jamie, you know that. Except … for some reason …” She shrugged and looked to the doorway Angel had passed through a while ago. “For some reason, today it ceased to amuse me.”

S
ebastien lowered the newspaper he was pretending to read and watched Monsieur Santini leave the bookstore. Well, that didn't last as long as he'd hoped for. But he knew this would be no easy match to make.

A slow smile spread across his face.

What fun would it be if they were all easy?

Some of the most enduring, passionate matches were the most difficult to achieve. He took special pride in those.

Matching the grandson of one of his favorite former masters would be a special pleasure. And he'd come to respect and admire Mademoiselle Broussard as well. Oh, yes, he would enjoy this.

He closed the paper as Angel sped off down the empty, early-morning street. Should he go into the shop? He really had no reason to. He had much to do this day, plotting and executing the next step in the dance between Ree Ann and Angel. Jamie stepped outside just then and went about opening the tall shutters that covered the windows. He stilled, not wanting her to spy him there but at the same time unable to duck back around the corner and out of sight.

He'd enjoyed their time on the water.
Mais oui
, he'd more than enjoyed it. He'd found a kindred spirit in her. He'd never known a woman to find such primal
joy on the water. He'd felt her every tremor of ple sure as if it were his own.

He scowled at his wayward thoughts. If the tru were to be told, he'd spent more time than absolutely necessary thinking about that day. Yes, he had to an lyze information about her in order to make her match. But this obsessive need to go over and over—

Jamie had secured the final shutter and moved back to the front door, where she paused. Sebastien eas around the corner behind him just as she glanc over her shoulder and looked directly to where he had been standing.

Too close for his comfort. He had to regain co trol, and swiftly. He had no time to waste explain his presence. Certainly she already knew he was behind the manufactured meeting this morning. Jus certainly she was crowing victory, still believing t was a match made in hell.

His composure returned, along with his smile. The added incentive of proving her wrong gave him just the focus he needed. With a light whistle, he turn and strolled down St. Phillip toward the river, mind already turned to his next move. The dance has begun.

Jamie smiled tiredly as the last customer stepped out the door. She glanced at her watch. Five minu and she could lock the door. It had been a long day the first time since the shop opened when she fou herself constantly eyeing the clock. She didn't kn why she felt so restless.

Her gaze was drawn to the front door. Liar, thought, you've been watching that door all day, ho ing Sebastien would come in. He hadn't.

She'd tried to talk to Ree several times that day, but for once her friend was uncharacteristically silent
about her feelings. She'd smiled and charmed their customers, but Jamie couldn't shake the feeling that it was all a front. She knew it was because of Angel. Which was why, she told herself, she'd been hoping Sebastien would show his face. So she could tell him that she'd no longer sit back quietly while he plotted his little matchmaking schemes.

That is, if Ree didn't tear him up one side and down the other first. She'd been none too happy with his machinations on her supposed behalf either. Jamie found another smile. Maybe letting Ree settle this with him would be the best solution.

“I'm all done in, sugar,” Ree called from the coffee bar. “I'm going to hand my bank and receipts over to Marta and head on home for a nice, long soak.”

Jamie stepped around the counter. “Ree, listen, I—”

Ree held up one hand but found a smile of her own. “Jamie Lynne, if you apologize for that man one more time, I swear.” She lowered her hand as her smile faded. “I'm fine, really. It was just a surprise. No harm done. I don't think Angel will be bothering me again.”

Jamie opened her mouth to ask why she'd been in a blue funk all day if that were the case, but she closed it again when she spied that same hurt she'd seen this morning. Finally, she nodded and said, “If you want to talk, you know where to find me. Okay?”

“I just need a warm soak, a nice little glass of white wine, and a good book. I'll be good as new tomorrow. Promise.”

Jamie wasn't so sure about that. But she did know one thing: She had to find Sebastien and tell him to back off. She didn't know what was really bugging Ree, but she did know that the last thing she needed was having Angel thrown in her path again.

Problem was, she had no idea where to find him.
But she did have an idea where to start looking: Jack. Apparently he'd gotten a bit more chummy with Sebastien than Jamie had realized. The two had shared several meals, she'd discovered. God only knew what Jack had told him. He was loyal to his friends and family, but he was also a notorious sucker for a handsome face. And Sebastien had that in spades.

Jamie waved as Ree left, then she stepped outside to close the shutters and lock up for the night. Jack would be down at Beaudraux on Bourbon, doing makeup for the drag revue that was opening tonight. He'd be frenzied, but Jamie didn't care. It might work to her advantage. One way or the other, she was going to find Sebastien. And, for her cousin's indiscretions, she would have no compunction about guilting Jack into covering for her at work tomorrow so she could track the pirate genie down.

Jamie turned sideways and squeezed through the throng at Beaudraux, angling her way to the front. At least here she didn't have to worry about getting groped, she thought dryly. It was a lame attempt to keep her humor as she made it to the door and nodded to Bennie the Bouncer. Jack had been no help. Oh, he'd been willing enough. He was contrite, no doubt. But he'd known nothing more about Sebastien's living quarters or general whereabouts than Jamie did.

She sucked in a deep breath of sultry night air as she finally made it to the sidewalk. The street was packed with all varieties of humanity, as it was every night. The music poured out of the open doors of pubs, bars, and nightclubs, and people laughed and danced as they jostled by her. She moved along, lost in her own thoughts, hardly noticing the women who were giving in to the age-old tradition of baring their
breasts for the colorful Mardi Gras beads flung by the bounty of admirers on the balconies above. Someone yelled down to her to take her shirt off, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked up at the hopeful young man, then after a wry glance downward, looked back up and with a laugh shouted, “You must be joking.”

The man laughed and flung her a string of beads anyway.

“Wonderful. Now I'm getting pity beads.” She did smile, though, and loop the beads over her neck as she made her way to the quiet end of the street before cutting back over to Royal and the bookstore. She was so caught up in her musings, she didn't see the man step from the shadows until he was right in front of her.

Her hands flew up defensively, then dropped immediately. “Sebastien.” She blew out a shaky sigh of relief. “I'm going to have to start wearing a heart monitor because of you.”

He smiled. “I beg your pardon, mademoiselle. It was never my intention to disturb your heart.”

If he only knew, Jamie thought ruefully.

He raised a finger and lifted the beads from her neck. “Been enjoying the pleasures of Bourbon Street?”

Jamie stepped back so the beads fell from his fingers. There was something far too disconcerting about the innocent gesture. “Hardly.” At his raised eyebrow she added, “I've done my lifetime's share of partying. Those days are over for me.”

His wicked grin surfaced, making her skin ripple in a delightful shiver despite the blanket of humidity that still hung in the air.

“But once upon a time you would have played for the beads?” He shook his head. “You should never grow too old to play. It is what keeps us young.”

“It's what got me married and divorced. Twice,” she shot back, trying hard for friendly barb-swapping. But it felt different.
Friendly
didn't begin to describe how it felt.
Bad idea, Jamie. Don't even start in that direction with him
.“Besides, I'm not the type that bares it all for beads.”

“And what, mademoiselle, do you bare it all for? If not for beads?” Somehow he'd stepped closer without her noticing, because the oxygen had simply vanished again. As had all her personal space. He just filled it right up.

“I … I … um … don't bare it all, in general, for any reason. Like I said, keeps me out of trouble.”

He lifted the beads from her neck again and slid his fingers around them and down until they rested just above the space between her breasts. “What a pity.”

Jamie forced a laugh and winced at the shrill note in her voice. “Yeah, well, pity is what I'd expect if I did bare it all. Not exactly Pamela Anderson Lee here. Heck, I'm not even Tommy Lee.” She backed away again, but this time he didn't let the beads go. Unless she wanted to rip them from his hooked fingers, she was more or less trapped.

She didn't pull away.

“Who is this Tommy and Pamela Lee?”

“No one you'd match up, trust me,” she said, but her dry tone was suddenly even drier for lack of being able to swallow.

Sebastien's intent gaze left hers and traveled slowly down the strand of beads to where his fingers were poised, then directly up into her eyes. “I only find myself regretting the fact that I can't seduce you to find out for myself what treasures lie beneath my fingers.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. Had he really just said he wanted to seduce her? “Sebastien, really, this can't—”

He dropped the beads and pressed his fingertips to her lips. “I'm aware of what this can't be. Just as I'm aware that for some unknown reason, I wish it to be.”

She lifted her head just enough for his fingers to fall away. The soft friction made her body ache. “Unknown reason?”

His white teeth flashed in the corner lamplight. “You are not the type of woman who usually draws my attention. And yet you have a disturbing majority of it.”

Stung by his summation of her womanly charms— or lack thereof—she found the wherewithal to step back and away from him. “Probably something you ate while dining with my cousin.” It was ridiculous to feel insulted. After all, she was well aware that her womanly charms were generally directly related to her father's checkbook. That he couldn't figure out why on earth he could possibly want her was insulting enough. She wasn't about to give him the chance to enlighten himself.

“Something I ate?” he repeated, momentarily confused. “I am speaking of other … appetites. Appetites that, upon my return, I've found myself unwilling to assuage. Odd, isn't it?” He seemed honestly perplexed.

“Downright bizarre,” she said tightly. “A man who looks like you, even a delusional one, should have no trouble sating any appetite he has.”

“Agreed. Which is why I find myself here tonight. I didn't see any other solution.”

Jamie's eyes widened and she laughed harshly. “Well, if you expect me to fall at your feet in abject appreciation because you couldn't find a more worthy entrÉe, then you can go find another menu. I'm not fast food.” She pushed past him and unlocked the iron gate. “The kitchen is closed.”

He stayed her with one surprisingly strong, broad hand. “I have insulted you.”

“Give the man a free dessert. You bet your sweet cherry-on-top I'm insulted.” She turned in the tight space between him and the gate and looked up at him. “You know, I find you very attractive. I'm sure that comes as no shock to you, since any woman would. But you may be surprised to know that I have a low tolerance for being treated like a charity case.”

Sebastien frowned and started to speak, but she waved him silent.

“I realize someone who looks like you probably doesn't think a woman like me can earn real honest attraction, and you know what? I'm not so sure I can either.”

“You question your charms? And yet two men have committed themselves in marriage to you.”