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.”
“The only person who should have been committed was me. To an institution, for buying their slick lines in the first place.” She talked over his response.
“So you'll forgive me if I'm no longer willing to put up with being played with for the sake of someone else's needs. Whatever they are. I don't know what you hoped to gain tonight, but whatever it was, we both know it's not because you really wanted me. So you'll excuse me if I opt out in the early rounds of this match.”
She shoved at the iron grate that led to the narrow alley into the courtyard. He made no move to stop her, and she clanged it shut behind her, hearing the lock click into place before letting her breath out.
Sebastien gripped two of the bars and leaned his face between them. “I've stated myself badly. I never intended to hurt or insult you,” he said quietly. “You have my deepest apologies for doing so. You are an intriguing combination of strength and vulnerability and a woman I've come to admire. It is to my shame that I didn't make that clear. I realize coming here tonight was a mistake. A mistake I will pay for, I assure you.”
Despite telling herself to just keep walking, she stopped and looked back. “What do you mean?”
He looked at her for the longest time, an odd expression on his face. “I never considered that making these matches would endanger my own heart. Now I'm not so sure.” Before she could speak, he turned and disappeared down the street.
She was so stunned
by his quietly spoken words that she simply stood there, staring at the empty space where he'd been. By the time it occurred to her to follow him, to find out where he was going, it was too late. The street was deserted.
“Damn!” She leaned back against the gate. Had he done that on purpose? Said something so provocative as a calculated move to confuse her, so he'd have time to disappear? Was he that crafty?
She honestly didn't know. She just couldn't figure him out. Had he come here tonight seeking an easy lay? Had he been stalking her for that supreme purpose?
No, that was silly. First off, he could basically have any woman he wanted. Why in hell go after her? Secondly, if he'd really wanted her, he could have come after her in the more traditional fashion. And likely succeeded, she thought ruefully.
So, that left … what? That he'd honestly been confused by his feelings for her and had come here tonight hoping to sort them out?
She shook her head and walked through the small courtyard to the rear vestibule entrance. She just couldn't believe that. Or maybe it was more honest to say she couldn't let herself believe that. Because her feelings for him were confused too. And she didn't want to examine them either.
But, dammit, she wished she'd been more on the ball. She'd missed a prime chance to find out more about him. And now she wasn't sure when, or if, she'd see him again.
The sharp pang that brought to her chest served as the most dire warning of all.
“Who are you, Sebastien Valentin?” she murmured into the hushed silence of the night. “And why do I care so much?”
Sebastien sat down on a bench and watched the river as it flowed by under the moonlit sky. What had he been thinking? Well, he knew what he'd been thinking with. He swore under his breath. He'd never faced such a challenge as this.
He was unable to put her from his mind, and this disturbed him greatly. Try as he might, he could not deceive himself into believing his thoughts were focusing on her so incessantly because of the battle of proof they were waging. He honestly hadn't meant to insult her. He'd been perplexed, yes, by his obsessive pondering of her. Yet he'd never meant to imply that because she was not the type of woman who usually drew his attentions that she was unsuitable for any man's attentions.
It was simply that he enjoyed women who were more obvious in their charms, more comfortable with how to use them. It kept things uncomplicated. And generally a great deal of fun was had by all.
He scowled and leaned back against the bench. There was nothing uncomplicated about Jamie Sullivan. Nor about his feelings toward her. He'd learned more about her tonight. She'd been married.
And divorced. Twice. Crucial information he'd not elicited from Jack. And yet, as he sat there, it was not how this information would affect his selection of her soulmate that filled his mind. Two men had pledged their troth to her. What had happened? She implied they had somehow used her affections for their own gain.
He hung his head. And now she saw his appearance tonight and his remarks about his confused affection for her as similar attacks on her heart. Of course, she was right. He had no interest in her heart. He couldn't, other than to find its mate.
So why the desire to seduce? Why the need to see her eyes light with that flame of desire and know he was the cause of it? Insanity. And why in God's name had he spoken to her of this insane need of his? Surely he knew better than that. But she hadn't seemed vulnerable to his charms, he argued with himself. Perhaps he'd only mentioned his growing desire in hopes she'd dash them with an effectively aimed retort.
Instead, he'd been the one with the deadly aim.
He stood and made an attempt to roll the tightness from his shoulders. He still had much to do with Ree Ann and Angel. He must put Jamie and her role in his life into sharp perspective, and quickly.
There would be no more talk of seduction and need. As she'd baldly stated, there were other women all too happy to quench that particular thirst.
As he strolled off the Moonwalk and headed toward Jackson Square, he wondered why it was that they held even less allure for him just now.
Chapter 12
The following morning was sunny and mild. Jamie opted for a run through the Quarter and along the river. Then she strolled through the stands at the French Market. Jack had showed up to work for her today—his way of making up to her for the guilt he felt about talking to Sebastien. She really wasn't angry with him, but she took the day anyway. It gave her time to implement Operation Pirate. She planned to make the most of it.
She'd tossed and turned all night, replaying Sebastien's words, analyzing the honest confusion and contrition he'd seemed to feel. She had no idea what to believe, but she still wanted to know more about him. Maybe that would help her figure it out.
She stepped out of the market and sank her teeth into a bright green, bittersweet apple. There were all kinds of historical resources right here in the Quarter, and she intended to make use of them. Crunching thoughtfully, she headed toward the Cabildo in Jackson Square. Maybe a little research on Sebastien's supposed former boss, Jean Laffite, would be a good place to start. She didn't hold much hope of actually finding Sebastien's name listed on some historical document, but it wouldn't hurt to do a bit of digging and see what came up. There were several other historians in the area who might be able to help as well.
She was crossing Decatur, trying to decide how to phrase her questions, when she spied Ree Ann coming around the opposite corner. What's she doing down here? It was early still; the shop didn't open for another hour. Maybe she'd had the same idea as Jamie and was heading for the market. She started to call out, then came to a dead halt when Ree ducked into an open gate. The gate was to an alley that led to the courtyard of—
“Santini's?” Jamie whispered, then snapped her mouth shut. Ree was going to see Angel. Oh. My. God. Without thinking, Jamie crossed the corner at a diagonal and headed directly toward the still-open gate. She stopped only when her hand was on the latch. What was she going to do? Go in and rescue Ree from the evil clutches of Angelo Santini? She'd have laughed, except nothing about this was funny. Had Angel called her? Or had Ree just decided to confront him on her own? To settle, perhaps, the reasons why she'd let his words disturb her so much.
Whatever the case, it was none of Jamie's business. Ree hadn't called her last night and confided, so Jamie should just butt out. Ree would probably tell her all about it when it was over and done with, anyway.
Jamie resolutely turned away. Then Angel's voice carried down the alleyway from the inner courtyard, and she stopped. Telling herself she was doing this only for Ree's protection, she shamelessly eased herself inside the gate. And maybe just a few steps down the alleyway.
“I didn't think you'd come.”
Aha! He had called her. Jamie folded her arms and settled in next to the wall.
“So this note actually did come from you,” Ree said, followed by the sound of crinkling paper.
There was a low chuckle. “I am still trying to deter-mine the origins of that other note, but no one here can recall who dropped it off.”
Jamie strained forward, breath caught in her throat.
“It doesn't really matter, does it?” Ree said.
Jamie blew out a quiet sigh of relief. The last thing they needed right now was to drag Sebastien into this mess.
“Is that why you asked me here?” Ree continued. “To tell me that?”
“Maybe I just wanted to see if you'd come.”
Jamie could just imagine Ree stiffening up on that one. She caught herself smiling when Ree said, “Well, then, I suppose you have your answer. However, I don't have time for game-playing. I'll let myself out.”
Jamie plastered herself to the wall and began inching back toward the gate as she heard Ree's heels click in her direction. Somehow, she was much farther down the alley than those initial few steps.
“Why did you come?”
The clicking stopped. Jamie stilled too.
There was a pause, then Ree said,
“You came when you thought I'd asked you to. I was merely returning the gesture.”
“You say you have no time for game-playing, and yet what else would you call your relationship with my grandfather?”
Whoa. Jamie didn't know whether to duck from the shrapnel when Ree exploded or to run in there and drag her friend out before she committed a capital offense.
Her mouth dropped open in surprise when Ree answered him calmly.
“You have attacked my character and tried repeatedly to provoke me by making these veiled insinuations about my relationship with Edgar. I have not responded because, to this day, I still cannot discover what business it is of yours. Perhaps if you can answer that for me, I would attempt to enlighten you.”
It was the longest speech Jamie could recall Ree ever making directly to Angel. Of course, most of their prior conversation had been conducted through attorneys.
“He was my grandfather,” Angel said. “Family. I had a right to know if someone was taking advantage of him.”
“If you cared so much about your grandfather— your sole remaining family, as far as I know—then where was all this concern when he was alive? If you cared that much, you'd have known exactly who I was long before the reading of his will and exactly what role I played in his life.”
Jamie smiled and gave Ree a thumbs-up. Maybe this was a good idea after all. In all the time they'd spent in court, Ree had taken her counsel's advice to heart and steered clear of responding to anything personal Angel had said. But that had apparently left a great deal of pent-up frustration and anger inside her. Jamie thought she'd simply buried it and turned her attentions to opening up the store. But it had obviously been festering.
Jamie had never thought she'd say this, but maybe it was good that Angel had asked Ree here today and finally given her the opportunity—in private—to vent those frustrations.
Angel's next words riveted Jamie once again. This was better than Days of Our Lives.
Your Wish Is My Command Page 12
