Your Wish Is My Command (19 page)

He tilted his head and studied her in that disconcerting way of his, but only said, “These particular souls had been searching for their mates for some time. Let us just say there were some obvious reasons why their attempts were not meeting with success. Some souls must overcome many obstacles before their mates can be found.”

He shifted his attention to the crackers and cheese, and Jamie took advantage and studied him. If this were merely a role he was playing, he was a brilliant actor. Of course, if he were merely delusional, then he truly believed he was his character. Either way, his role was picture-perfect—and very convincing. Her forehead began to throb.

Sebastien shifted his gaze to hers, catching her unaware. She didn't look away. “You still do not believe.”

She shook her head, then shrugged. “Honestly, I don't know what to believe.” She tried for a laugh, but it came out sounding a bit hollow. “You have to admit you're asking for a lot. I suppose everyone else just leapt at the opportunity to have their own personal genie and didn't bother to ask questions?”

“No, you are not the first unbeliever. As long as I can get my masters and mistresses to name their souls for matching, it is not imperative that they believe.”

“But most end up believing, don't they?” She knew the answer before he nodded. “So why do you care what I believe?”

Now it was his turn to shrug. “I have asked myself that. Many times. The logical response is that, because you are one of my matches, it is to my benefit to have your assistance.”

“But that's not why?”

“It is part of it, to be sure.”

Jamie's muscles tightened up and she sat her glass back on the table. That inescapable magnetism was heavy in the air between them. She wanted to back away, to shift the conversation to some other path. A path without her right in the middle of it. But maybe that was the real problem. Maybe it was time to be done with it, one way or the other.

“And the rest of it?” she asked. “Why do you really care?”

He sat his glass down as well. “Do you really wish to discuss this?”

“No,” she answered honestly. “But I think maybe we'd better.”

“The rest of it is this: I am attracted to you. I told you this last night.”

A shiver of excitement that was totally unacceptable raced over her skin. Foolish. “You also told me you couldn't figure out why in the world you were.” She raised her hand to stall his response. “But you're telling me this has never happened before?”

He held her gaze captive. “Not like this.”

Her ego had taken a beating last night. That one sentence made up for almost all of it. Her throat worked, but it remained dry. “And what … what is 'this'?”

“Attraction is usually a fleeting thing, a physical thing. For me, anyway. If the woman is unattainable for some reason, I generally don't waste time pursuing her. I find another … distraction to meet my needs.”

Jamie tried hard to ignore the images of Sebastien distracting himself with someone else. They flooded her brain anyway. And she discovered she really didn't like them at all. Not a good sign.

“And yet, this time …” He paused, then raised his hands helplessly. “I cannot seem to find a suitable distraction.”

Jamie wasn't sure what to say to that. She knew what her body wanted to say. Her body wanted to fling itself across the table, into his lap, and tell him to dissipate his tension at will. And at great length.

“I-I-”

Sebastien lifted his hand to silence her. Which was good, since she had no idea what would have come out of her mouth just then.

“I will not pursue this attraction I feel for you. It cannot be. For many reasons. Not the least of which is my responsibility to find your match. I apologize again for not keeping this disturbing development under my own counsel.”

“Out of curiosity, what would happen to you if we … you know, dallied.” Had she really asked that? When his eyes flared and her body reacted accordingly, she wished she could've retracted the question.

“I've never become involved in any way with any of my mistresses or matches. Initially that was more by chance. I do not know what would happen if I did, only that I feel it is wrong. It is not my purpose.”

“And just how do you know what your purpose is? I mean, you seem awfully accepting of this eternal curse of yours, you know?”

“Perhaps I was not all that accepting at first,” he
said, his tone sharper. “But then I came to realize that as curses go, this one is fairly bearable. It is, in a sense, immortality. Have you not wondered what will become of people, of places, of things, beyond your lifetime? Because of this 'curse,' as you call it, I have been able to discover this.”

“Of course, I think we all wonder what the future will be like, but it couldn't have been that simple for you.”

“I never said it was a simple matter.”

“Then tell me, that day you were cursed … well, what happened, how? When did you know your fate? Did someone explain it to you, or did you just appear the first time someone pulled the sword out and know in your gut you had to match three souls?” She was bullying him a little, but maybe she was doing it more for herself. A last-ditch effort to break through his facade, if this was one. Hadn't she set out today to find out, one way or another, just what and who he really was?

“These are not simple questions with simple answers.”

She leaned back, terrified of what she might be about to hear, and yet she knew she had no choice. The look in his eyes was as steady as ever. But was there a warning there as well? Had she gone too far, pushed too hard? “In all this time, certainly someone has doubted you before.”

“Perhaps once or twice. You would be surprised how unquestioning people can be when their good fortune is at hand.”

“Well, you already know how I feel about my 'good fortune.'”

Now he sighed and leaned forward. “Jamie, perhaps it would be best if you simply—”

“Answer my questions, Sebastien. I want to understand.”

When he spoke, his tone was expressionless. “Oriane was the one to place the curse, and it was she who explained, as she cursed me, what my fate was to be.” He lifted a hand when Jamie opened her mouth. “If you wish to hear this tale, then you must let me tell it in my own way. If you still have queries when I am finished, you can question me further.”

It wasn't until that moment that it occurred to Jamie how selfish her badgering was. He was always so charming and gallant, it was easy to believe that there was nothing dark in his life, that he was truly as affable and upbeat about his eternal fate as he seemed to be on the surface. “If what I'm asking will churn up painful memories … I'm sorry, Sebastien. I wasn't thinking.”

“I am not concerned about the pain, Jamie. I don't see why the specifics of my past should matter, but obviously they do to you.”

Jamie felt a shiver run down her spine.

“I do not recall what happened in the moments after Oriane cast her spell. She held the sword and muttered an incantation over it, and … the next thing I knew, I was floating in darkness. I heard her voice telling me what my mission was, what I was bound for all eternity to do.” He stopped and sipped his lemonade. Staring at the glass, he continued. “I was not easily accepting of my fate. When I was first summoned, I was quite recalcitrant.” A smile played at his lips. “I had cavorted with privateers most of my young life. We were not, in general, an acquiescent bunch.

“I quickly learned there would be no answers to my endless queries. My first match happened almost by accident. My master and I were out carousing in the Quarter, and, while in his cups, he told me the sad tale of the love of his life. Not thinking about my fate but rather happy to be alive at all, I laughingly told
him a simple solution to his woes. He followed my guidance and was reunited with his love. I witnessed this reunion and I … I…” He shook his head, as if not believing his own story.

“What?”

He looked at her then. “I felt indescribable joy. It cannot be properly explained. It wasn't ownership of their love or even a sense of victory that I'd helped guide them to each other. It was … An epiphany perhaps is the best way to describe it, that Oriane's chosen fate for me was indeed real. Not that I didn't test it. I did, repeatedly, especially in the beginning. But I eventually learned, through a rather torturous trial-and-error period, that it was better for all, most especially myself, if I embraced my rather unusual future. I had plenty of time to contemplate it, and when it became obvious that there was no escaping it, I found it was easier to make peace with it rather than rail against it. After all, it was a far better one that I was likely headed for with my former compatriots.”

“Did you miss the life you had with them? You said they were your only family.”

“It wasn't the first time that I lost my family, Jamie. And we all had a rather fatalistic view of life. It went with the occupation.” He said it simply, but there was a depth of emotion in his eyes she had never seen before. He was sparing her the darker details, she knew that. But because he was likely also sparing himself, she let it rest.

“You've never been tempted to find a way to end it?”

“You mean end my life?
Non.
That is for cowards. I will meet my final fate, whatever it shall be, straight on.” He stood. “I have truly come to accept my life. It is not such a bad fate as all that, mademoiselle. You needn't look so sad.”

Jamie hadn't been aware of her expression, but she
stood as well. Apparently their discussion was over. She'd never seen him quite this intense. “You really believe in what you are doing, don't you?”

He spread his hands, a beseeching look on his face.
“Mais oui.
That joy I mentioned—it is truly without description. But what I didn't add was that it is also addictive. Every time it is the same. Perhaps greater, though I can never imagine it to be. It is an honorable fate for one who led perhaps a not so honorable life, is it not? Perhaps one I did not deserve, but it is one I now embrace.” He came around the table and stood just before her. “You need not believe, Jamie. I will do my duty regardless.”

She looked up into his eyes. “I want to believe,” she said. She had never been more sincere. “I want to.”

He took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the back of it before letting it go. “Then that will have to be enough. I will do my best to find you a match unlike any other. You deserve happiness, Jamie. I will see that you have it.”

She wanted to shout that she didn't want anyone else. Correction. Anyone. That
else
made it sound dangerously as if she was about to say she wanted only him.

That wasn't going to happen. For so many reasons it was foolish to even contemplate it any longer, even fleetingly.

“I don't wish a match for myself,” she said quietly. “Can I choose someone else for the third match? I mean, you win the bet. Pirate genie or not, it's clear that Marta is happy, and Ree—well, that remains to be seen. I still can't believe those two will have a romance, but then I never believed they could have a civil conversation and that's happened. So who knows.”

“I cannot change what has begun,” he said. “The choices have been made.”

“But I didn't choose me. You did.”

“Ah, but you agreed.” He pushed some wayward strands of hair behind her ear. “You will have happiness, Jamie. I promise you.”

“I already have happiness. Maybe for the first time ever. I'm better alone. I have my friends, my family, and a business that is challenging. And, most importantly, time to enjoy them all.”

“And maybe because you have finally found your own happiness, you are ready to truly share it with another.”

Jamie dipped her chin. “I don't know. I haven't had much reason to believe in that.”

He lifted her chin and smiled into her eyes. “I will give you that reason. Believe me, Jamie.”

And, in that moment, looking into his eyes, she did.

God help her, she did.

T
he final numbers for our first month are pretty I good.” Marta handed printouts to both Ree and Jamie.

Ree sipped her coffee and looked carefully over the numbers. “These do look good.” She smiled over the top of the sheaf of papers. “We're a hit, girlfriends.”

“Hey, was there ever any doubt?” Jamie tossed her papers on the table after barely skimming them. She was great at mechanics and intricate design plans, but columns of numbers made her eyes swim. If Marta said they were doing well, that was good enough for her.

Marta smiled at Ree. She smiled a great deal more these days. “If we keep this up through the fall, we might be able to start making payments back to you by January. Spring at the latest.”

Ree laid the papers down, already shaking her head. “I'd rather reinvest any profit back into the store. I'm doing just fine. We'll worry about paying me back later. For now my regular paycheck is enough.”

Jamie knew, as did Marta, that Ree had long ago started building a portfolio. She'd made mostly modest investments but had also taken occasional risks, some of which had paid off pretty well. A chunk of
that, along with Edgar leaving her this property, had made the store possible.

Jamie had stockpiled some of her winnings for that proverbial rainy day, most of which she'd used for her share of the start-up costs of the store. Marta had some of the insurance money from Dan's death set aside, which she'd put up as her share. But they'd agreed—or Marta and Jamie had—to pay Ree back two thirds of the store's market value as the shop made money. Jamie was already making payments to her for the upper levels.

“I keep meaning to ask you for some investment advice,” Jamie said, then grinned. “But first I need to invest in a few other things. Like furniture.

”

“Just let me know when you're ready, sugar.” She laughed. “I had a similar discussion with Jack.”

Marta rolled her eyes. “He hasn't even started an IRA yet, much less a savings account big enough to bankroll a foray into the stock market.”

Both Jamie and Ree laughed. It was true. Jack was amazingly adept at living off the kindness of others, but to his credit, he was willing to part with just about anything he had—even his paycheck—for those in need. And he often did.