Your Wish Is My Command (17 page)

Read Your Wish Is My Command Online

Authors: Donna Kauffman

BOOK: Your Wish Is My Command
5.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“You never met me, but that didn't stop you from thinking you knew me or, more specifically, my 'type.' You made that clear enough at the hearing,” Ree went on. “I'm guessing Edgar cut you off as a way of defending my honor.” She laughed, but it was a sad one.
“Had I known, I would have made it clear that I could fight my own battles.” She paused, then said, “When they are important enough to fight for. Your opinion of me means nothing to me. That it also offended your grandfather, however, does mean something to me. If that is how people in your family treat one another, then perhaps it was best that he distanced himself from your version of loving support.”

Again, Jamie heard heels click on the flagstones. Again, Angel stopped her.

“I'm beginning to think perhaps you're right.”

Jamie laid her hand on her chest. Angel was agreeing? She didn't think she could stand much more of this.

“Meaning?” Ree asked quietly.

There was the sound of creaking springs. Apparently Angel had been seated and now he stood. Jamie strained to listen harder and heard the slight scuffle of his shoes on the flagstones. When he spoke, he was as close to her as Ree had been.

“Meaning I have a great deal to think about. And an even greater deal to apologize for.”

Double whoa!
Angel Santini apologizing? Jamie thought she could actually hear hell freezing over.

“I'm not certain that I care, Mr. Santini,” Ree said.

Jamie pumped her fist.
Right on, sister, you tell him!

“Although I'm certain your grandfather would want you to make peace with yourself in your own heart,” she continued. “So I'll leave you to it. I don't believe we have anything more to say to each other.”

“Wait. Please.”

Did Ree huff out a sigh of frustration, or did Jamie just imagine it because she knew her friend so well? Either way, there was a distinct tone of weariness in Ree's voice when she responded.

“Why? I can't imagine we have anything left to discuss. The courts have spoken in regard to—”

“This isn't about the land or the will.”

“Then what?”

I—

Jamie craned her neck toward the corner. Had that really been a note of uncertainty in Angel's voice?

“I'd like to know more about my grandfather. About the last years of his life.”

“From me?” There was no doubting the surprise in Ree's voice.

“You were closest to him.”

There was a sustained pause, then Ree laughed. “You have nerve in spades, sugar.”

“I believe it's an inherited trait.”

“Possibly. However, let's say that Edgar wielded his nerve with a tad more finesse.”

“You're probably correct. Finesse was never one of my finer traits.”

Jamie wasn't too sure about that. Ree had held her own beautifully, but she was still here, which was apparently right where he wanted her.

“Dinner?” he asked. “Privately here at Santini's or a restaurant of your choice.”

“You'll have to take it on faith that I'm not playing coy. However, I'll have to think on this and get back to you. I'm not so certain I'm ready to discuss a past that is still a bit tender. A past, I need not remind you, that you have disdained at every turn.”

“I just want to know more about my grandfather. No digs, no barbs.”

“You'll forgive me if I don't wholeheartedly embrace this sudden change in attitude. Whatever my decision, one thing won't change: I don't trust you. I don't like or respect you either.”

“Then why consider the invitation at all?”

Again, a pause. Then, “Because I believe Edgar suffered for putting you at a distance. Your grandfather was a wonderful, kind, courageous man, and perhaps, just perhaps, you'll be a better person for learning more about him.”

“Does this mean you will talk with me about him?”

“I suppose it does. I'll have to get back to you on when. And where.”

Jamie leaned back against the wall. In shock. In a million years she would never have believed this outcome. She moved quietly down the alley and slipped out the gate before Ree could see her. She kept going until she was around the corner from Santini's. Should she let Ree know she'd heard the conversation? Now that it was over, the guilt crept back in.

But she had to admit she wouldn't go back and change her decision if given the opportunity. It was about Sebastien, not Ree, though. What Ree and Angel did was their business. She'd love to know every detail, there was no denying that. But no matter if Ree confided in her or not, she had learned one important thing that made her less-than-aboveboard activities worth the risk: Sebastien was still in the matchmaking race.

Not that she believed anything romantic could ever possibly blossom between Angel and her best friend. She shook her head and absently finished off her forgotten apple. No way.

Jamie peeked around the corner and saw Ree's retreating back as she headed to the store. Jamie crossed the street and continued on her original course to the museum. She hoped Ree was okay. Perhaps finding some middle ground with Angel wouldn't be such a bad thing. For all her resilient demeanor, Ree also had a huge heart and it could be hurt. She'd endured far worse than Angel's verbal parries just growing up with a flamboyant mother like La Bamba. But Angel
had somehow managed to penetrate that steel, perhaps because of the link to Edgar. Jamie wasn't sure.

What she was sure of was that Sebastien couldn't really take any credit here. Ree and Angel had already met before his appearance, and the reasons they were seeing each other now were also based in the past. Besides, declaring a truce of sorts was
not
the same as dating.

She tossed her apple core in the trash and stepped into the cool interior of the Cabildo. After talking with the docent, she headed toward the Cities of the Dead exhibit. New Orleans was well known for its above-ground cemeteries. The rows of white mausoleums did in fact look like a city in miniature. Jamie slowly walked through the photographic display. She stopped when she found the one the docent had guided her to.

“The burial site of Dominique You,” she murmured.

“Yes. Sad he ended up here rather than with his compatriots, Pierre and Jean.”

Jamie jumped at the deep voice in her ear, but she didn't spin around. Instead, she ground her teeth and ignored him. She made a mental note of the cemetery where the infamous right-hand man of Jean Laffite was buried, then she moved on toward the exit.

Sebastien's long legs made it easy for him to match her pace without seeming to hurry. She forced herself not to run, though the urge was there. It would solve nothing.

The docent nodded at her and smiled like a mooning schoolgirl at Sebastien. Jamie nodded back tightly and rolled her eyes when Sebastien's wink made the older woman all but swoon. She walked back out into the morning sunshine.

Sebastien said nothing but kept pace beside her as she walked across the back side of Jackson Square
toward her next destination. Then it occurred to her that she could hardly continue Operation Pirate with the damn pirate in question strolling along next to her. She stopped suddenly, taking small pleasure in the fact that he went on a step or two before realizing she was no longer beside him.

He turned back to her but still said nothing.

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” she said, exasperated. “This is ridiculous.”

“Taking a walk on a sunny day?”

“Don't be disingenuous. Your accent makes you too good at it.” Jamie fought a smile when his grin surfaced. She would not let him charm her. Not after last night. “Why are you here? To gloat?” She knew that, somehow, Sebastien was aware of the little meeting that had just taken place. “Well, I wouldn't get too excited just yet. The only sparks that will fly between those two won't be sexual.”

“Now who is being purposefully naive?”

Jamie propped her hands on her hips. “You? Those two may find a neutral zone, but only because Ree has decided to act like an adult, and a lady.”

“When a man and woman strike sparks the way those two do, it is always sexual. At least in part.”

“And this is the basis for your eternal matches? Sex?”

Sebastien laughed. “It is a good place to start, no?”

“Not in my personal history.”

Sebastien sobered. “I'm sorry. I was not making light of your past wounds.”

“Apology accepted.” How did he do that? Always say just the right thing to defuse her defenses?

“There are more possibilities between them than sexual sparks,” he said. “Just as Ree Ann has been underestimated by Monsieur Santini, there is more to Angel than you credit him with. I predict that this dinner will not be their only meeting.”

“You know about the dinner? How? Spying on them?”

“Non.
But apparently you were.”

Jamie didn't need a mirror to know her cheeks were red. “I was merely checking up on a friend, making sure she didn't find herself in a situation she couldn't control.”

“She asked for this support? A surprise. Mademoiselle Broussard strikes me as a woman who can control most situations.”

“Okay, okay, I was spying. But my heart was in the right place. And I still say you can't take any credit for this … this … whatever it is. And it's not a relationship.”

Sebastien merely raised his eyebrows. “I brought them back together again. I do not believe either one would have sought out the other without my guidance.”

“An anonymous note. How original.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes it takes only a small push to begin a great romance.”

“Well, I don't see a romance, great or otherwise.”

Sebastien smiled with full confidence. “Have patience. This is only the beginning.”

Jamie jabbed a finger at his chest. “If Ree gets hurt because of this clown, I'll hunt you down. That's a promise.”

Her threat didn't seem to concern him overly much. “I was under the impression I was already being hunted down.”

Her cheeks were most definitely red now. She could only brazen her way through it. “I was taking in an exhibition. I happen to enjoy French Quarter history.”

“Do you wish to see Dominique's grave? I can escort you there.”

“The cemeteries aren't safe these days. Even during the day. And I don't need to see it.”

“I agree. Why waste time on research when the best reference resource stands before you?”

“Perhaps I need confirmation from a source other than you.”

“Ah. My mistress is still unconvinced.”

“Yes, I am. And I'm not your mistress.”

That shrug again.

Jamie sighed. “And that brings up another point. The Sword of Hearts.”

Now he looked wary. “What of it?”

“Where is it? It's not your property. It belongs to Ree Ann.”

“I am afraid I cannot return it to her as of yet.”

“What did you do? Hock it for cash?”

He looked honestly offended. “I will not dignify that question with a response.”

“Then how do you support yourself? You don't seem to have a job.”

“I am very much employed. An eternal occupation, you might say.”

Jamie looked to the sky, seeking patience, then back at him. “Okay, fine. Let's not go there. How do you support yourself? Other than getting Jack to feed you, you have no visible means of support.”

“I also take offense to your characterization of my meals with your cousin. I have always taken care of the payment.”

Which admittedly sounded just like Jack. “But you do admit to feeding him in order to pump him for information.”

“I admit that it is a proven way to help me in my mission, yes. Jack meant no harm, and none will come to anyone for his revelations. Quite the opposite, I hope. What we discussed remains between us.”

“You're avoiding my question.”

“Which is? I've lost count.”

“Very funny. The question was, how exactly do you
live? What do you do for income? Where do you stay when you're not haunting my every step?”

“You see me as a ghost?”

“I see you as a pain in the rear.”

Surprisingly, he laughed. “No one will accuse you of tempering your true feelings with false niceties.”

“As I said to you last night, I don't play games any longer. I find it best to get straight to the point.”

“Then why don't you?”

Now it was her turn to be confused. “I believe I am.”

“You set out today to research me, did you not?”

That stopped her for a moment, but she made the connection. “Oh, so you had breakfast with Jack this morning? I swear, when I get a hold of him—”

“Do not blame Jack. He thought he was doing you a favor. He merely told me you'd come to him, looking for me. I thought I'd save you the trouble of tracking me down.”

“You thought you'd protect yourself by stopping me from tracking you down, you mean. You don't want me to find out what or who you really are.”

“I have never told you less than the truth.”

“But you've never told me everything either.”

He spread his hands. “You have never asked.”

“I'm asking now.”

He said nothing but studied her closely. Jamie had no idea what was going on behind those dark eyes of his. He'd made no mention of what was said between them last night. She'd thought that when she saw him again she'd feel uncomfortable, at the very least. But she felt as she always did. Irritated, confused, and aware. All too aware.

He walked to her and held out his hand. “Come, then. And I will give you your answers.”

Awareness leapt between them as his eyes met hers. The danger warning clanged loudly inside her head.

But once again her heart won the battle of wills. She wanted to know more about him. Had to know, if she was ever going to figure out what to do about him.

But she prided herself on at least being smart enough to ignore his hand and step past him. Touching him was definitely off-limits. She didn't need to know more about him to know that—she knew enough about herself.

“Okay.” She swept her hand in front of her. “Lead on.”

Chapter 13

A
nother mistake. Sebastien was sure of it. He'd rarely, if ever, shown one of his masters his living quarters. Of course, no one had shown that much interest in him. Most of his masters, once they'd come to believe he was what he claimed to be, were interested only in what he could do for them. Jamie was different.

Other books

The Dark Collector by North, Vanessa
A Strange Likeness by Paula Marshall
Conflicted Innocence by Netta Newbound
Unbreakable Love by Angela Carling
Matthew's Chance by Odessa Lynne
Death's Savage Passion by Jane Haddam
Star Crossed Hurricane by Knight, Wendy