Your Wish Is My Command (28 page)

“You said you were a boy when they pressed you into service. Eleven.”

“You have a good memory.”

She could have told him that she remembered every word he'd ever uttered, so strong was his impact on her. But that revelation in and of itself kept her silent.

“Isn't eleven old enough to remember your real name?”

“That time in my life was harrowing beyond description. I did not leave my family willingly, and the life of service I was pressed into killed many who were older and stronger than I. I had a younger sister … I think.” He stopped abruptly and shook his head. “I don't have much recall of any of those early years.” He
paused for a moment, then quietly added, “And I'd like to keep it that way.”

“I'm sorry. Truly, I never meant—”

“Family is what you make of it, Jamie. Just as you have made a family of Jack and your friends.”

“But I have a father.”

“And where is he?”

Jamie knew that he wasn't asking for a geographical location. “He is there for me when I need him.”

“But you understand me?”

She nodded.

“I have no tangible memories of Corsica. Maybe one day I will go back there. But that does not pull at me, and neither does the prospect of tracking down people who have no real direct connection to the man I am now.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Such as that man is.”

Jamie turned again, gently pulled his face toward her, and gazed deeply into his eyes. “You are more a man than any I have ever met.”

“And yet I am not enough of one to give you what you so deserve. What I would wish to give you, if I could.”

Jamie did not want to think about what he could not give her. Not today. “I'm sorry I brought it up. This day was to be ours, and I won't ruin it with talk of tomorrow or the future.”

He smiled ruefully. “Now you're sounding a bit like me.”

“I don't happen to think that is such a bad thing.” She turned back around and took the wheel from his hands. “Now, let me see what I can do with this ragtop.”

They said nothing as they turned in their paperwork to the rental office. Just as they'd said nothing
beyond what was necessary for her to learn to man the helm all the way back in, which she'd managed to do without bodily harm or permanent damage to the boat. She did owe Sebastien a debt of gratitude for saving that buoy marker, though—as did the bird living in the nest on top of it.

But his moping had gone on long enough. She stopped before they left the dock and turned to him.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, mademoiselle.” He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

“I enjoyed sailing.” She laughed, forcing real humor into it. “But God help you if you ever tell anyone, hear?” She'd be damned if she'd let him waste even one more moment of their day together. She ignored the little tug of desperation that thought brought on. It was that same tug she knew he'd felt out there on the water—fear of what happened when this day came to an end.

“So,” she said brightly, determined. “Got the keys?”

He groaned. “Please, Jamie, not today. Can't we retire home and spend our next several hours—”

“Which reminds me,” she broke in, a devilish smile on her lips. “You owe me another sailboat ride. We never did manage to … you know.”

“I'll promise you anything if you'll agree to forgo the rest of our bargain.”

“Not a chance.” She took his hand. “Come on, it's not all that bad. In fact, I bet by the time we get back to your place, you'll be talking about what kind of car
you
want.”

He swore at length under his breath.

“Very … creative. And I don't even understand French. But it's not getting you off the hook.” She tugged him across the parking lot. “There's an old shopping center near here that's all closed up. The parking lot is more weeds than pavement at this
point, but it has lots of room.” She grinned up at him. “Just think of it as a paved ocean.”

Sebastien swore for the millionth time as he popped the clutch yet again. “Jamie, I cannot do this, and I wish to end this experiment. I have lasted well over a century without learning to man such a cursed contraption as this, and I don't—”

“That's only because you can't get past second gear. Trust me, once you open this baby up, you'll be totally sold.” Jamie had to admit that she wasn't sure he'd ever get out of second gear either. He was not the easiest student, and she told him so. “It would help if your heart was in it a little more.”

He looked at her directly, teeth clenched. “I have no heart for this.”

“Now, now. I said the same thing about sailing, and look how well that turned out.” Okay, so mentioning their time on the water was not a good idea. His eyes got all stormy again, and she thought for a moment that he was going to get out of the car altogether.

She blew out a sigh of defeat. “Oh, okay. You win. Maybe some other time. I didn't want to make you angrier, I just thought it would be fun. Just because I went sailing, you don't have to humor me if you really don't want—”

“Hold on,” he snarled. With a growl of the engine, the car lurched forward, almost stalled, lurched again as he shifted, then lunged forward. He pressed down on the gas, lurched again as he shifted, then lunged forward again at an even greater speed.

Jamie clutched the dashboard and started praying.

“I think I am beginning to understand,” he said, real wonder in his tone.

“You're heading for a building.”

“This is not so bad.”

“You're heading for the freaking building!”

“No need for panic,” he said calmly. Then he laughed as he turned the wheel and almost set the car on two wheels.

Jamie managed not to scream, but only because she felt as if she'd swallowed her tongue.

“Does it have higher gears?”

“No!”

He spun them around again, almost doing a one-eighty. Rubber burned.

“You're killing my Pirelli tires.”

“I will buy you new ones.” He let out another laugh and raced across the parking lot yet again.

“Dear God, what have I done?” She began to pray in earnest.

He spun the car around and braked suddenly, almost sending her through the windshield. Thankfully, the engine conked out when he took his foot off the clutch. Jamie lunged for the steering wheel and all but yanked out the keys.

Sebastien sat back and folded his arms over his chest, looking very satisfied with himself. “What, you do not wish for me to drive you home?”

Jamie glared at him, still incapable of speech.

Sebastien reached over and turned her head toward his with a finger beneath her chin. “Now it is my turn to thank you, Jamie
amour.”
He was smiling now as she hadn't seen him smile since … since right before she'd been stupid enough to bring up his past out on the water. Seeing him happy again … well, for that she was thankful, very, very thankful.

But not enough to let him drive again. Ever.

“You're welcome,” she said, finding a smile. “Now can we go home and finish the day as we started it?”

“Mais
oui, ma chÈrie.”

“Thank you, God,” she whispered.

Sebastien laughed and kissed her. In an instant the
moment shifted. The anxiety of the past hour and the painful emotions from the boat ride all dissipated.

Another emotion rose to take its place. And Jamie was terrified to put a name to it. She simply gave herself over to it.

“Take me home, Sebastien.”

“When I kiss you, I feel like I'm already there.”

Jamie knew it was love right then. Because she actually gave him the keys.

J
amie opened her eyes to find Sebastien beside her, propped on one elbow, watching her. Un-like the morning before, his expression was unreadable and did not change even when she smiled tentatively at him.

It was not a good sign.

She slowly pulled the sheet up higher on her chest. “Morning.” Inane, but she was suddenly at a loss for what to say. She didn't know what she expected, but … well, she did know what she expected. She expected him to be like he had been yesterday morning.

But yesterday was over in more ways than one.

A chill raced over her skin.

“Bonjour,mademoiselle.”

His voice was rough and sexy and made her shiver again, this time in remembrance of just how it had sounded last night as he'd whispered to her all the things he planned to do to her. And he had. Yet she could find nothing of her bold pirate in his eyes this morning. He appeared moody and withdrawn.

“Is something wrong?”

“I am not entirely certain.”

Oh, great.
This was definitely sounding like the beginning of the end. Only she wasn't ready for this to end and she had every intention of figuring out how
to make it last. Maybe she'd grown after all. “Can I help?”

He was looking at her, but she wasn't certain what he was actually seeing.

Abruptly, he said, “Tell me about your husbands.”

More than a little surprised at the demand, her first instinct was to fling back the covers and stalk out of the room. But she didn't. In racing, she had always fought hard to the bitter end, because she knew she was good enough to win if she worked hard enough. In relationships with men, she didn't have the same confidence—her track record certainly hadn't bred any. But running away hadn't solved anything before. And what she discovered right now was that, for the first time, she didn't want to run. She wanted to stay and fight. For him. For them.

“Pardon me for sounding a bit confused, but I'm having a bit of a hard time figuring out what went so terribly wrong from when we finally fell into exhausted sleep a few hours ago and now.”

“Nothing has gone wrong.” He seemed honestly confused. “Do you not wish to discuss your husbands? I did not ask to anger you. I merely need to understand—

”

“Why would you be thinking about them now? What could you possibly need to understand about my husb—” Her eyes widened. “Oh, wait just a minute. You had better not be planning on bringing up that whole matchmaking thing.” She tossed the covers back. “Because after what we have shared, I cannot believe you would dare think about finding me anyone—

” A strong hand clamped down on her arm, stopping her escape. “That is the very last thing I'm thinking about at this moment.”

She looked back at him. Damn, but he was too sexy in the morning. Hair rumpled, a morning shadow of
beard lining his jaw, his bare chest looking hard and tan against the white sheets, his eyes so dark and deep she felt she could tumble headlong into them. Her anger dissolved, leaving only the confusion. “Then why do you ask?”

“Come back here and I'll tell you.” He tugged her back into bed, and damn if she didn't let him. She rolled to her back, coming to a stop in the crook of his arm, her body aligning all too well with his. Her fears began to dissipate. A little.

“So, what is it about my failures as a wife you'd like to know?” she asked dryly.

“First of all, I do not believe you failed as a wife. Did it occur to you that perhaps the men you married failed at being a husband?”

“Yes, well, they definitely didn't win any awards either, but still …”

He brushed the tangled strands of hair from her face. “I asked about them because I want to understand the mistakes they made with your heart.” His deep voice thrummed a responding chord deep inside her. She'd never seen him so serious. “So I don't repeat them.”

She melted. “Why?” She immediately saw the hurt and realized he'd misunderstood. “I didn't mean I don't want you to try, I just meant that how … You know … we can't … you … I … Damn.” This was too hard. “Can't we pretend it's still yesterday?” Her throat tightened at the look in his eyes. She all but begged him. “Just for one more day?”

He pulled her abruptly to him and kissed her mouth. More rightly described, he possessed it. She submitted instantly, only he was not satisfied with her submission. As he had every time they'd made love, he demanded her active participation. And as she'd eagerly discovered, equal partners in passion can produce amazing results.

was completely without breath and reaching for more when he lifted his head.

“Maybe we should find a way,” he managed roughly.

That stopped her. “Find a way … to what?”

Now it was his turn to look away, to sigh in frustration. “Never mind. You are right, I am spoiling this morning we have together.” He turned back to her and stroked his fingertips down her cheek. “I apologize. I have lain awake for hours and I haven't properly wished you good morning.”

Despite the tumble of confusion and alarm she felt, she found a smile. She clung to it almost desperately. “Oh, I think that kiss was pretty much a great good morning for me.”

His lips quirked, but his eyes still looked concerned. “I'm sorry I didn't begin with that, then. I do not wish to waste a moment with you.”

“I don't wish to waste time with you either.” She worked hard to keep a lock on the fear, fear so great it threatened to swell up and choke her.

Jamie looked up at Sebastien to find him studying her again, but this time there was only heat in his eyes. Heat and need. This she understood. She shared that need. And, God help her, she would not walk willingly away from it.

Yes, there would be pain. Crushing heaps of it. Eventually. But right here, right now, she could honestly say she wouldn't give the last two days back even if she could.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. He smoothed a fingertip across her brow.

She found a smile, a heartfelt one, and focused firmly on it. He was right. They shouldn't waste any of what time they did have. “I am thinking that it's Monday and the shop is usually pretty quiet until the afternoon. Do you have any pressing engagements this morning?”

“I believe I could make myself available.” As if taking her cue, finally the devilish grin resurfaced, all the way to his twinkling dark eyes.

Jamie relaxed and allowed the buzz of anticipation to build within her. “Then why don't you show me again how you hunt for buried treasure?”

He ripped the sheet from the bed and tossed it to the floor, a very piratical gleam in his eyes. “Aye-aye,
mon amour.”
He laid a large, warm palm flat on her belly. “I believe I left off the last hunt right about here.” He kissed a tender spot just below her navel.