His Command

by Sophie H. Morgan

  As it was, Erica kept eyeballing her every time Hailey sidled into the office.

  Wait until she appeared on Lisette’s Hour, scheduled for this Saturday, after the winners had been selected for their wishes. Then her boss’s expectations would really start to push down on her shoulders.

  As promised, Ryder had dropped off the questions the day after Rome which, thankfully, hadn’t looked too in-depth. He’d also brought a copy of the Star, so she could “frame it for her walls,” he’d teased. The photo he’d texted later, of his in a frame on what she presumed was his desk, made her laugh. As he always managed to.

  Hailey had tried to be objective when she’d seen the newspaper, even when Max and Quentin had pored over it in the office and poked fun until she went beet red, but she couldn’t help it. The photos looked hot, and the way Ryder looked at her in them was enough to make her sizzle.

  He’d mentioned the wish again when he’d brought the newspaper around. She couldn’t think about it without getting carnival-ride dizzy. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have what she wanted, to nudge her in the direction she chose—or to help out her family in some way. Or the world. It was too huge a decision to make spur of the moment, and what with everything else going on, it was too much for her to think about.

  She had asked as he’d lounged on her couch about the limitations of a wish. Hey, curiosity was curiosity, and nobody she’d known before had been lucky enough to win a wish. Could she wish for unlimited money? The ability to fly? To cure cancer?

  Apparently, the younger Genies had more limitations than the more experienced, but even so, curing fatal diseases was a no-no. As was manipulating emotions—or giving mortals the ability to fly, he’d added with a gleam of amusement at her expense.

  “Wishes create opportunities for people,” he’d explained after she’d thrown a cushion at him. “So, say you wished to meet the man of your dreams. He wouldn’t appear in front of you. But the opportunity would present itself to you, on a walk, at work. Or if you wanted money, maybe an investment pays off or you get a bonus.”

  Maybe she should wish that he give her an opportunity to meet Jax Michaels. Ha.

  The trouble was Hailey had never liked using people to get ahead. Her parents had drilled fairness into her, along with a pesky conscience that hindered more than it helped.

  If she’d wanted to use someone to get to Jax Michaels, all Hailey would have had to do was call Kate. She was Jax’s fiancée’s best friend and she was always pictured with Charlie in the Genie, and non-Genie, society pages. If Hailey had begged, Kate could have introduced Hailey to Jax and Charlie months ago.

  All she knew was how it’d make her feel to be pushed into a corner between friends. Which was why she’d kept her peace and determined that if Jax and Charlie were looking for a wedding planner, they’d choose the best one in the city.

  All that moral high ground she’d claimed, and yet she still ended up getting pushed into abandoning her principles.

  The rest of her errands for the weekend weddings—not to mention choosing an outfit to appear on freaking national TV in—kept her busy enough throughout the week to shove the introduction way in the back of her mind like a discarded sweater. And she worked off the two pounds she’d put on.

  Who’s an organizational badass?

  She was also spending a lot of time running between places to make sure everything was perfect for both weddings. Case in point: dialing the florist’s number about the Saturday bouquets while dashing uptown to meet with the staff at Sunday’s reception venue.

  Street traffic was at a height, shoppers and tourists and teenagers merging into one wave that Hailey had to push through to keep forward momentum. She kept her bags close to her body, aware of pickpockets, and mentally added grocery shopping to her to-do list. It was getting desperate. Unless she could do something creative with an egg, lettuce, and wine, the store would have to be her last stop of the day.

  God, to eat an entire carton of Aunt Mabel’s Peanut Butter Madness ice cream under the covers right now. And it was only midweek.

  She jerked as another pedestrian plowed into her and sent one of her bags spinning. Luckily nothing fragile, just some samples of linen for yet another client to choose from for tablecloths, but it was enough to get her heart jacked up.

  Uttering curses upon rude pedestrians, Hailey stooped to gather everything. As she reached for the slate-colored linen, her gaze caught on a man across the street. Tall and gorgeous with a smile to kill, his face was side-on to her as he grinned at the woman he was talking to.

  Hailey switched her curses from raining hell on inconsiderate pedestrians to the butterflies that just seeing the man brought on. Pathetic, that’s what she was.

  She finished picking up the linens and stood, hovering on the sidewalk. Did she go over? Interrupt what seemed to be an intimate conver—

  Her brain fizzled to a stop as Ryder bent and laid one hot kiss on the brunette he’d been speaking to. Her arms went around his head to pull him closer, bodies mashed against each other.

  Something sharp lodged in her sternum as Hailey froze. The couple had already broken apart and were heading in her direction when she started thinking again. She reacted immediately, turning blindly away so he wouldn’t see her. She bashed into a few people, but didn’t stop as she hurried up the street.

  When she stopped a couple of blocks later, her heart pounded so loud it could’ve woken a long-dead president. She pressed her back hard against the wall, biting her lip to keep any emotion in check. Ryder, after all, didn’t owe her anything.

  A shaky exhale as she closed her eyes. Enough. There was a time to sort out these mixed feelings. This wasn’t it.

  And damn it, she was twenty minutes late for her meeting.

  * * *

  Ryder flashed to the entrance of Hailey’s apartment building, mindful of his promise to use mortal rules next time he visited. He lingered for a minute, tipping his head back to the sky and breathing in the crisp fall air. Although it had been a nice day, the clouds were already gathering, dark gray and puffy. Hailey’s street was almost deserted, just one mother hurriedly pushing her stroller along to get inside before the clouds split.

  He pushed the buzzer for Hailey’s apartment with a grin he couldn’t conceal. He hadn’t seen her in a few days, and to his surprise, he’d missed her. He didn’t think he’d ever missed a woman before.

  Had she missed him?

  His fingers tapped the panel as he waited for her to answer.

  Finally the panel crackled. “Yes?”

  “It’s me.”

  “Oh.”

  Well, that had been about as enthusiastic as someone about to have a colonic.

  He waited. “You gonna buzz me up?”

  Another pause. “Look, I’m kinda busy right now.”

  He laughed. Good one.

  When the buzzer remained silent, he pushed the talk button again. “Hailey?”

  “Ryder, look, I’m just . . . not up for anything tonight. We can talk about this some other—”

  Ryder flashed upstairs to outside Hailey’s door without waiting to hear the rest. He knocked. “Hailey?”

  Some muttering that he couldn’t catch erupted inside. Though it definitely involved the words arrogant, Genie, and jackass.

  He knocked again. “Open up.”

  There was a tense moment where he didn’t think she would, but as he was considering serenading her with a few lines from “Love Shack” (Bang, bang on the door, baby), the deadbolt slid back. She opened the door in sweatpants, a loose sweater that slithered off one tanned shoulder, and her hair caught back in a loose ponytail. It was the most dressed down he’d ever seen her.

  And, damn, but it was sexy.

  She didn’t say a word, but her expression spoke for her.

  A twinge of worry caught at him and he stepped forward, urgent. “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing.” Her chin went up as his body relaxed out of the knot of tens
ion. “I just didn’t feel like seeing anyone tonight.” Her arms wrapped around her stomach, making the sweater cling to her breasts.

  He forced his mind out of the gutter where it longed to dwell. “It’s just me.”

  “We’re friends now?”

  “You know we are.” He shot her a weird look and put a hand out, meaning to grab hers, but she moved backward.

  O-kay. Concern dialed back up.

  Taking that move as an invitation, he strode into her apartment. He didn’t care if she didn’t want to see anyone; she’d see him. If only so he could figure out what was wrong with her.

  She shut the door unnecessarily hard. Unless she meant to make it rattle on its hinges.

  Wow.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t flash straight into my apartment.” Her tone was snotty, designed to irritate—and it was working. “Bypass the whole mortal-manners thing altogether.”

  He held back his annoyance. “Genies have a code.”

  “No breaking and entering?”

  “Well, no breaking, anyway.” He grinned, but it collapsed as she about-turned and moved toward the big chair she normally sat in. He exhaled. “You’re moody,” he said candidly. “Bad day?”

  She gave a little laugh. “You could say that.”

  “Does this have anything to do with your ex’s wedding?”

  Her eyes were smoky green with irritation when she faced him, squared off. “What, I can’t have a bad day without men being involved?”

  He sat without invitation on the couch. This was not going to plan. He’d thought to soften her up toward him after the Rome thing by doing a low-key, stay-in-and-watch-The-Notebook deal (always worked).

  In this mood, he’d be lucky not to get sneered to death.

  “If the wind changes, your face could freeze that way,” he commented.

  Yep. Definitely sneered to death.

  He studied her as she paced, those arms still tightly wrapped around herself like a straitjacket. Maybe that’s what she needed, ’cause this was a Hailey gone nutty.

  “What did I do?” he asked, surrendering to the inevitable.

  “Not everything revolves around you, Ryder.”

  Whoo. Duck and cover, gentlemen. There’s a shitstorm blowing our way.

  “It doesn’t?” He lifted his eyebrows in response to her tart statement. “You learn something every day.”

  “Don’t be cute. I hate it when you’re all la-la-la, messing around.” Her eyes flashed. Not Sad Eyes now. Possessed, maybe. With Satan. He knew of a priest in New Orleans who could help with that.

  Ryder tugged on his store of patience. Something had happened, and it was something that obviously meant a lot.

  “Hailey,” he said, waving a hand at the chair she usually occupied. “Sit down. Talk to me.”

  “I don’t want to sit down.”

  Breathe. “I can help.”

  She snorted. “Course you can. Mr. White Knight.”

  His patience only went so far.

  Flashing in front of her, he bent and nudged one shoulder into her midsection, upending her. He took the valuable seconds she was too shocked to speak to drop her onto the couch.

  He stood over her, arms folded. “I don’t know what’s crawled up your ass,” he said, polite as he could. “But I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’re acting like a—”

  “What?” She pushed up out of her sprawl, defiant. “What am I acting like?”

  Might as well say it plain. “Like a psycho.”

  Her mouth pursed as she jabbed a finger at the door. “Get out.”

  He fisted a hand in his hair, yanked. “What the hell is this about?”

  “It’s not about anything except the fact that I didn’t want to see you. That doesn’t matter to the great Ryder, though, does it? The tempting twin?” She glared up at him. Her eyes were hot. “Tell me, how many women are you teaching how to have fun right now, following your orders? Just a guesstimate.”

  Her brain was like Twister. He had no idea how to put one half on red and the other half on yellow. “Huh?”

  “Right,” she scoffed. “You probably don’t even know. We’re all interchangeable.”

  “Okay, so are the nice men with white coats coming now or shall I phone them for you?”

  “See, you can’t be serious, can you? Always a joke.” Hailey jumped to her feet. “Just go. This, us, whatever it is, we’re done. I’ll call you when I’ve planned the party.”

  “Wait.” Ryder ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Just wait. What the hell is all this about women? I don’t have a lineup of women.”

  “Just me and the brunette then?”

  “What brunette?” Maybe the madness was catching. Maybe he’d start wearing tall hats and sipping tea out of oversized cups. One of Leo’s favorite quotes: I can’t explain myself, sir, for I am not myself, you see.

  “You’ve already forgotten her?” Hailey’s sweater slipped off one shoulder again as she clenched her hands. She was practically vibrating. “Poor woman. I’m sure she thought she was special by the way you kissed her this afternoon.”

  Ryder put up a hand, innocent. “Ah, I didn’t kiss anyone this afternoon.”

  “Ryder, I saw you on the street.”

  “Wasn’t me.”

  “Hey, it’s not like we’re even a thing, so don’t feel like you can’t admit it.”

  “Admit what? I was in Wisconsin granting a wish this afternoon.”

  She stared at him before shaking her head. “No, I know it was you.”

  Ryder dug out his cell and offered it. “Call my Handler if it’s so important. She wished for a penthouse in New York and the funds to afford it.” He waggled the phone, watching her closely. “Go on. Call him.”

  She stared at the phone as if it were a note declaring she was the pope. Doubt flickered in her face as she peered up at him. “I saw you.” Her tone broke into uncertainty.

  Something clicked in Ryder’s brain. The ah-hah moment. “You saw Leo.”

  “Leo?”

  “My twin. My identical twin. You know, the one you’re planning the party for?”

  Her expression froze midsnort. Realization bloomed in her eyes, washed away by embarrassment. Hot color uncurled in her cheeks. She all but sank into the ground as she avoided his gaze. “Oh.”

  His grin was born of pure pleasure that caressed him like swathes of silk. If he were alone, he might have punched the air in victory.

  One hand lifted to rub her chin. “You were jealous, huh?”

  15.

  His twin. A weak laugh almost slipped free as Hailey gazed into Ryder’s satisfied brown eyes. His fricking twin.

  She couldn’t have considered that before she’d thrown a beast-sized tantrum?

  Tell the truth, she’d been operating on emotion as soon as she’d heard his voice over the intercom. Maybe she had been since the moment she’d met him and tripped into his arms.

  Either way, damage control had to be applied before the Genie read too much into the situation.

  Would he be reading too much into the situation?

  She shoved that question to the back of her mind as she sidled away from Ryder’s soft stroking. The couch seemed the best obstacle to put in between them so she didn’t stop until she was firmly on the other side. Ready to regain the upper hand.

  His smile hadn’t gone away as one eyebrow lifted, as if to repeat his question. Those damn dimples winked at her with knowing satisfaction.

  “Noooo,” she said in answer. “I was . . .” Mad? On drugs? “ . . . PMSing.”

  Oh, thank God. For a second there I thought you were gonna say something embarrassing.

  His grin didn’t slip like most men’s when any mention of “women’s time” came up. “You were jealous.”

  “Why would I be jealous? We’re . . . we never . . .” Words, don’t abandon me now!

  He folded his arms, bunching the muscles beneath. Her eyes strayed there before winging back to hi
s face.

  “I don’t know why you’d be jealous.” His gaze was very warm as it dragged over her. “You know you’re the one that I want.”

  “Anyone else get a Grease dancing-on-the-shake-shack flash there?” Awareness throbbed to the point of pain beneath that heated stare, every inch tingling.

  “Maybe you need a demonstration so you don’t forget again.” Dark and wicked, his words slipped beneath her clothes to slide against her skin. Tempting. Teasing.

  She held up a hand as if to ward him off. If he laid one finger on her like this, it’d be Dorothy in that tornado all over again. Lost to a force bigger than herself. “I’m sorry, all right? I don’t know what I was thinking.” I don’t know what I want. Or what I should want.

  He obeyed her order to stay, but it didn’t feel like there was enough distance between them as he gazed at her. She needed a stadium between them. A country.

  “Hailey?” God, that voice. Like sin, it caressed her body, forcing her breath out, her heart to pump quicker.

  “I . . .” Her toes curled as amber struck the core of his eyes. He looked hungry. No. He looked starving. “I’m sorry. I still don’t think I’m . . . ready. For anything.”

  “I know when I see a woman who needs to let go. Let off some steam.”

  Her grip on herself turned bruising. How the man could make her faint without lifting a finger was probably one of his sneakier Genie powers. And her insecurities? Melted beneath his stare like ice cream. “I’m steam-free, really.”

  “That’s even worse.” Sensuality darkened his eyes, emphasized his lips as they drew flat. As if he was having to work hard to rein himself in. “You deserve a man who can make you steam.”

  It was working. She was so hot, her cheeks must be blazing fuchsia.

  “I need a cold drink,” she managed, almost panting. Her ears buzzed. “You need a drink?”