Your Wish Is My Command

by Donna Kauffman

  “Now who's grumbling?”

  “They make larger vehicles, this I know. You were gifted with genetics that made you tall and strong. I simply do not understand why you chose—” He was forced to swallow the rest of his words as she swerved into the parking lot of the marina they'd visited before. His hand was still pressed to his heart even after she turned off the ignition.

  “Big baby.”

  He looked at her. “The same might be said of your fear of sailing.”

  “I never said I was afraid.”

  “I don't believe I mentioned fear either. Merely my discomfort with the size of your car.”

  She reached over and peeled his hand from the dashboard. “Uh-huh.”

  He tried to think of a snappy retort, but wasn't fast enough. “Okay, I'll strike a bargain with you,” she said.

  Amused—which he could afford to be now that his life was not in immediate danger—as well as intrigued, he lifted a brow. “Oh?”

  “You feel this need to get me on a sailboat.”

  “I just wanted to share—”

  She lifted a hand, stalling him. “I agreed, don't push it. Now, since I'm making the supreme sacrificeof abandoning all my principles of speed” —she pretended a shudder—“for sailing, well, I think it's only fair you make a sacrifice too.”

  “I believe I got into this automobile willingly this morning. Is that not sacrifice enough?”

  She smiled but shook her head. “I think you would be far more understanding of why I chose this car if you knew how to operate it.”

  Sebastien opened his mouth, then closed it again. Thankfully, since he'd most likely have embarrassed himself.

  “I will sail with you, if you'll let me teach you how to drive my car.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Come on, a big, bad pirate like you? What have you got to fear for?”

  “My life?”

  “Well, your immortality will come in handy, then, won't it”

  She was out of the car before he could respond. Would that he could have.

  His immortality. It was the first either of them had spoken of the improbability of this newly forged bond working for any length of time. But she had done so jokingly. And although he had to admit now that those fears had been hovering just below the surface of his consciousness since the moment he'd awoken this morning to find her still beside him, her hand folded within his, he would not give it a foothold in his mind. Not now. Not today.

  He climbed out of the car, watching her as she walked into the rental office. The sun glinted off her hair as it swung across her back. Her long legs, beautifully showcased in her white shorts, handled the sway of the dock with certainty. She turned just then and waved at him, then curled her finger, beckoning him, her smile an obvious taunt. His heart swelled painfullyin his chest. No, he would not think beyond today. He could not bear to.

  He crossed to the docks, idly wondering if he kept her out on the water long enough, she might forget about the second part of their bargain.

  As he stepped onto the dock, she tossed him her car keys. “Here, hold on to these. You'll be needing them later.”

  He laughed then and once again accepted his fate. This time, far more willingly.

  Jamie leaned back against the prow and unabashedly watched Sebastien man the wheel. The wind had unbound his hair long ago and plastered his shirt to his chest. She felt something tender and raw fill her as she continued to watch him. This was his home, this was where he truly belonged, mastering the water with his own strength and power. She knew this because she saw the joy in his eyes. For the first time she felt as if she was seeing the man. Not the pirate, not the genie, but who he really was. Her eyes watered and she tried to blame it on the wind, but she knew differently.

  He chose that moment to look at her. He motioned to her with a toss of his head. “Come on, it's time you learned her feel.”

  Jamie laughed. “I'm feeling her just fine right here.” She'd be the last to admit it, but she did feel the power of the water and the movement of the boat—and she liked it. It was more elemental, less man and machine against the water, more man and boat moving with the water.

  And she was dying to try the wheel. The only reason she was still sitting here was because she wasn't sure she could manage it without embarrassing herself.

  was entranced enough—both by the effect the boat had on her, as well as the one Sebastien was having on her—that she didn't want to do anything to alter that perfect balance. The whole day was perfection; why ruin that?

  “Now who's being the big baby?” he called out.

  Well, okay, so there were some things she couldn't ignore. She stood and made her way toward him. The pitch and roll of the boat was very different from the ones she'd grown up on or raced. But it wasn't unpleasant. Not at all.

  “Enjoying yourself mon amie?”

  She tilted her face up, squinting in the sun. “Yeah, I guess it's bearable.

  He laughed and pulled her in front of him, positioning her hands on the wheel, keeping his hands on top of hers, his chest pressed to her back. She quite liked this little setup, but she'd be darned if she'd tell him.

  He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. “Do you like the feel?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He grinned against her skin. “I mean the boat.”

  “Handles just fine.”

  He took his hands from the wheel, and the whole boat suddenly took a violent pitch to one side. “Whoa!”

  Sebastien's laugh could probably be heard over the water as far back as the dock. He covered her hands again and quickly had the boat back under control. “A bit of a challenge?”

  “Shut up.” But she was smiling. “I'll get the hang of this. Besides,” she leaned back against his chest, “if sailing means we can stand here like this, I'm all for staying out here as long as it takes.”

  He chuckled and kept his hands next to hers on the wheel. Keeping his voice low and in her ear so his tone matched the gentle swell and pull of the water, he explained how to work the wheel, how to feel the water and gauge the wind. Jamie felt lulled and energized at the same time.

  “I guess I have to apologize.”

  “For what, ma chère?”,

  “For assuming speed equaled power.” She felt the wind and the water pull at the sail and shifted the wheel accordingly. A thrill of accomplishment filled her. “I felt it!”

  “Yes, just like that. It is a good feeling, is it not? Instead of man against the elements, it is man working with them.”

  “I was just thinking that earlier, while I was watching you.”

  “What else were you thinking?”

  “That you belong out here. I could see how much this meant to you, and I'm sorry I gave you a hard time about coming out here.”

  “No need to apologize.” He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I missed this.”

  “Seeing you out here, I can't imagine you stayed away.” She craned her neck around to look at him. “Why did you? If you were near Pontchartrain for this many years?”

  She felt his shrug. “Perhaps I could not bear it. The longer I put it off, the less I allowed myself to think about it. Then it seemed as if that time in my life was meant to stay in my past.”

  “I don't think I could have stayed away,” she said quietly. She hadn't thought he'd heard her over the wind, but he lowered his head to kiss her neck again.

  “Would that I had found you sooner, ma chère. I believe all things happen for a reason. Perhaps we were meant to make this rediscovery together.”

  She said nothing for several long minutes, then finally spoke what was on her mind. “Were you afraid?

  Afraid that sailing again might make your … your new life harder to bear?”

  There was a long pause and she felt him stroke her hair. “Perhaps.” He stroked her hair again, and again.

  “And perhaps you understand me better than I do myself.”

  She shook her head. “I think we ar
e a lot alike, that's all. When I gave up racing, it was a long time before I trusted myself to take a boat out.”

  “You feared the water would lure you back to life on the racing circuit?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But there is no life for the water to lure me back to. This is no longer the man I am.”

  Jamie smiled. “You might not be a privateer any longer, but that doesn't mean you're not a sailor. That can be in your heart forever.”

  “Maybe. I suppose I simply felt as if fate had yet again told me to leave one life for another. Maybe it was easier to just make a clean split of things.”

  “Or maybe keeping this bit of yourself would have helped you make the transition.”

  “Transitions. I have had enough of those. I suppose I have always felt as if I were cast in a role not of my own making. I've learned to make the best of what life has handed me, but to be truthful, I've always felt somewhat …”

  Jamie let the sentence dangle for several moments, but when he didn't continue, she shifted around until she almost faced him, letting him command the wheel. “Somewhat …”

  He looked down into her face. “Misplaced. Oui, that is as best as I can explain it. As if I have never truly had a home but have merely fostered myself in the homes others have provided. Or forced on me.”

  “Have you ever gone home?”

  “I'm not certain I truly have one.” He looked beyond her, out over the water. “Maybe you're right, though, about the water. Maybe this is as close to feeling at home as I can imagine.”

  “I meant home to Corsica, to … I don't know. Find your people, your relatives, your real family.”

  Sebastien kept his gaze on the water. There was a very long silence, and Jamie's heart ached inside her chest. “I'm sorry,” she said softly. “I wasn't trying to make you feel bad.”

  “I cannot find my family,” he said, his voice rough.

  “There are all kinds of sophisticated search engines now that help—”

  “Non, Jamie. I cannot find them, for I do not know who they are.”

  “What do you mean? How?”

  He turned her back around and pulled her close to him before taking the wheel in both hands again. “Valentin is not my own family name. It was assigned to me by my first captain. His cabin boy before me had been a Valentin, and it was simply easier for him to remember.”

  “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 he
ading 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.