Then there was the matter of the sword. She'd tossed and turned in bed the other night, trying to figure out a way to ultimately prove his claims, one way or another. And she realized she'd forgotten all about the sword. He had taken Ree's property, and she had no idea where it was. Or, for that matter, where Sebastien was when he wasn't intruding on her life at the oddest moments.
Although she was having a hard time being all that upset over today's intrusion. It had turned out to be a fun and exhilarating afternoon. With reluctance, she was also forced to admit that racing over the open water had been only a small part of that exhilaration.
She stepped into the shower. Yep, it had been so exhilarating she'd never gotten around to asking him about that sword or anything else. She worked a rich layer of lather into her skin as she contemplated just what it was about him that captivated her to the point of ignoring major danger signs and allowing him to remain not only in her life but in those of her friends. Jamie suddenly realized that her hands had slowed in their soaping motion and she was getting lathered in a way that had nothing to do with suds. “Oh, for heaven's sake.” She rinsed, shut off the water, and stepped out, toweling off quickly.
Well, pirate or not, she had to know the truth for sure. So while he launched Operation Angel, she would launch Operation Pirate. She'd put all her research skills to good use—and see what she could discover about Monsieur Sebastien Valentin.
As it turned out, Operation Angel got under way first. She had to hand it to him. He didn't waste any time.
Her first clue that fireworks had been launched came two days later when she was in the back loading books onto a cart for shelving. Even with the Cajun twang of BeauSoleil playing over the shop speakers, she still heard Ree shouting. And using the kind of language normally reserved for dockworkers.
What in the hell was going on out there? The shop didn't even open for another ten minutes. Well, whatever was going on, at least it wasn't going on in front of paying customers.
Ree launched another volley, slowing Jamie's footsteps as she emerged from the back room pushing the cart.
“Sugar, I don't care what you believe!” Ree went on, her decibel levels drowning out Michael Doucet on the fiddle. She stabbed a finger toward something—or someone—Jamie couldn't see.
Had some poor, misguided delivery guy stepped over the line? Again? She shook her head. Ree most definitely invited men to look and enjoy, but only the truly foolish tried to touch.
“I believe what this paper says.” This from a voice much deeper—if not any quieter.
Jamie froze. Oh, God. She knew that voice. Angel.
was Sebastien thinking,sending him right into the shop? It was like sending a lamb directly into the slaughterhouse.
Except Angel was no … well, angel. He could hold his own. And then some.
Jamie watched as Ree snatched the note and read it, her eyes widening until her lashes brushed the sculpted arch of her eyebrow. “What on God's green earth would ever cause me to send you a note like this? This is obviously someone's idea of a sick joke.” She crumpled the paper in her fist. “And, sugar, I don't know anyone that sick.”
“It was delivered to me at Santini's last night. I believed it to be your handwriting. I've certainly seen your signature on enough legal documents to recognize it.”
She leveled a look at him. “Who delivered this? What did he—or she—look like?”
Angel shook his head. “I never saw the messenger. My maítre d'brought it back to me.”
Jamie was itching to see what the note said. Although whatever it said, it hadn't worked. A meeting set up by an anonymous person was too simplistic for someone like Sebastien. He had to know it was going to take more than a note to get these two to speak civilly.
She caught herself there. Was she actually wanting Sebastien to succeed? No. Nonsense. She just wanted more of a contest than this lame effort. That had to be it.
“Well, I certainly didn't write or sign this.” Ree smoothed the paper, then frowned as she looked over the handwriting again.
Jamie found herself smiling. Nice touch there, she thought. Although how he'd managed to copy her handwriting she had no idea. At least it had stopped the shouting.
“Then I suppose I have no business here,” Angel said. He nodded sharply and turned to the door.
Jamie caught herself opening her mouth. To do what? she thought, shutting it abruptly. Call out to Angel and get him to stay? Ridiculous. She'd promised not to interfere. And even if she did, it certainly wasn't going to be to help Sebastien.
“Wait a minute,” she heard Ree say.
Jamie's attention was riveted to the door when Angel paused and looked back over his shoulder. He definitely had that whole Antonio-Banderas-does-Zorro thing going. Ponytail and all. He was a gorgeous man, no doubt about that. He wore his tailored clothes almost as beautifully as Sebastien did. The morning sun shone through the door, casting a halo around his dark hair. An archangel, she thought. Either that, or he looked like one of Sebastien's former compatriots on the high seas.
Maybe that was why Sebastien had chosen him. He'd seen a kindred spirit. Except that while they both had swarthy good looks and were fiercely intent on getting what they wanted, Sebastien went about it with gallantry. Whereas Angel filed lawsuits and threw money at it.
Jamie swallowed a snort of disgust. No way would Ree ever look at Angel as anything other than the supreme pain in the ass he was.
“Yes?” he asked at length.
“Why?” When he raised a puzzled eyebrow at her question, Ree added, “Why did you respond to this note? I'd have thought you would tear it up or spit on it.”
“You don't know me very well then,” he said quietly.
“I think I have a fairly good idea how you react to demands,” she responded. “If I had sent you some-thing like this, I'd have at the very least expected you to say that if I wanted an audience, then I could come to your castle.”
“Castle? Is that how you see me? A pompous king who expects his minions to dance in attendance to his whims?” He turned toward her. “Or perhaps you thought I'd feel threatened by someone like you if not on my own turf.”
“Someone like me?” She shook her head but smiled. “Now you're acting like I'd expect you to. You don't know me very well either. But, then, you never made an effort to look past your own narrow-minded preconceptions. In that respect you're just like every other man I've ever met. Except, of course, your grandfather.”
Even from the distance where Jamie stood, she could see him stiffen, his eyes narrow, as that remark hit home. He said nothing but regarded her steadily.
Ree stood straighter and unfolded the arms she had locked defensively in front of her. “Why did you come, Angelo?”
“You surprised me.” He nodded at the note. “It was unexpected. People rarely do the unexpected.” He looked straight into her eyes. “You had my attention. For a moment, anyway.” He turned and let himself out of the shop.
Ree stood there, mouth open, fists tight by her sides.
Jamie pushed the cart to the front of the store. “Pompous ass,” she said.
Ree spun around. “Oh! That … that … rrrrrr,” she spluttered, her eyes blazing.
Jamie was about to jump in with another two cents—after all, she'd kept her promise and not interfered—but stopped when she looked at Ree. Ree was hopping mad, no doubt about that. Given the fact those two had tangled before made the whole scene rather unsurprising. But Jamie hadn't counted on the other emotion she saw in Ree's eyes. Hurt.
Had Angel hurt her? Ridiculous. Yes, he'd said some unkind things, but not even in the ballpark of the comments that had flown fast and nasty way back during the court hearings. Ree had staunchly defended Edgar but had refrained from responding to Angel's baser assumptions. She'd known the will wasn't likely to be challenged successfully, so she'd let Angel think what he would. Angel had dug up the information on Ree's unusual upbringing and looked no further. The daughter was
obviously just like her stripper, gold-digging mother. Like she'd said, he certainly wasn't the first man to underestimate her.
Jamie had spent some time with Ree during the final hearing. She'd seen her friend spitting mad during the final probate process—but she'd never seen her hurt. Had she just not been looking closely enough? No. She'd have known. Angel had the capacity to incite fury, but Ree didn't care enough about him to allow him the rare luxury of being important enough to hurt her. She'd been angry only on Edgar's behalf.
So what had happened here just now? What had changed?
Damn, Sebastien!
“Ree?” She placed a tentative hand on her arm and patted her awkwardly. It seemed much easier when Ree did it. “Don't let him get to you. He's not worth it.”
Ree snapped out of her sputtering anger. “No, he's most definitely not.” But the hurt lingered around her eyes. “What in the hell was that all about anyway? Who would send him something like this? And how did they copy my handwriting so well?”
swallowed hard and knew she wasn't a good enough actress to wipe the guilty look off her face.
Ree's eyes narrowed and she gave Jamie a hard look, then shook her head. “No, no way would you do something like this. It's not your—”
She stopped when Jamie shook her head and said, “No, Ididn't do it.”
Ree's eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Sebastien?” The name came out on a hushed, stunned whisper. Before Jamie could say anything, Ree tipped her head back and hooted with laughter. In fact, she laughed so hard Jamie was afraid she'd pull a muscle or something.
“Hey, want to let me in on the joke? I'm surprised you're not jumping down my throat for not warning you.”
That stopped her. “You knew? About the note?”
“No, I just knew he planned to try and match you with Angel.” She held out her hand. “Trust me, Ree, if I hadn't promised already not to interfere, I would have said something. And really, it's not like there was a chance in hell of him succeeding.”
“So you just let him put that guy in my path again? What kind of friend are you? Jamie Lynne, I'm shocked.”
“I'm sorry, Ree. I said I'd let him try but if things didn't look good I'd step in. You handled him, though. I knew you would. He won't be back,” she added, trying to make them both feel better.
Ree looked at her. “So you promised to give him a shot at matching me up, huh? I'm guessing he's taking credit for Marta and Bennett.”
“I can't prove otherwise.”
Ree brightened then. “Oh! I see. You figured that him failing to match me up was a way to end this whole genie charade once and for all.” Ree's smile as she looked closely at Jamie. Her expression changed. “Wait a minute, you're beginning to believe this guy, aren't you?”
Jamie looked sheepish but didn't deny it. “I don't know what to believe anymore, Ree.” She spread her hands. “I mean, my head knows this has all got to be some wacky make-believe fantasy. ”
“Uh-oh, sugar. I'm not liking the direction this is goin'. Your heart is tellin'you something else, right?”
Jamie tried a weak laugh. “I know, I know, don't say it. We all know what a great track record my heart has.” Her tone was more beseeching than defensive. “I'm not saying I'm falling for the guy or anything.” She scowled when Ree merely lifted one elegant eyebrow. “I'm not! But I gotta tell you, he's getting more and more convincing with this whole thing.” Ree smiled then, a bit wickedly if you asked Jamie. “Until today. He didn't exactly bat a thousand trying to match me up with Angelo the Hun.” Jamie didn't say anything. She couldn't get the memory of that hurt look out of her mind.
Ree tilted her head. “What? What's going on in that head of yours? Spill.”
Jamie shrugged. “I don't know.” She looked at Ree, really looked at her. “I know Angel made your life hell right after Edgar died. You were grieving and he didn't help that at all. So …”
“So? You're right, he was awful. Still is.”
Jamie took a breath and just blurted it out. “So why did you look so hurt? Just now, when he left.” At Ree's baffled look, she went on. “I know he's said far worse about you, to your face. All he did today was confirm what we already knew about him. So… She shrugged, wishing she hadn't pushed it. “Why did he hurt your feelings this time?”
Now it was Ree's turn to look away and try on a mask or two. It didn't work any better for her than it had for Jamie.
She finally looked back at her friend. “Maybe I'm just tired of being overlooked.” Now she held her hand up. “I know, I know, I all but ask for it. It amuses me. Men are such dorks about women, you know? I get a kick out of playing them for the fools they are. Or I did. It's all just a game to me, Jamie, you know that. Except … for some reason …” She shrugged and looked to the doorway Angel had passed through a while ago. “For some reason, today it ceased to amuse me.”
Chapter 11
Sebastien lowered the newspaper he was pretending to read and watched Monsieur Santini leave the bookstore. Well, that didn't last as long as he'd hoped for. But he knew this would be no easy match to make.
A slow smile spread across his face.
What fun would it be if they were all easy?
Some of the most enduring, passionate matches were the most difficult to achieve. He took special pride in those.
Matching the grandson of one of his favorite former masters would be a special pleasure. And he'd come to respect and admire Mademoiselle Broussard as well. Oh, yes, he would enjoy this.
He closed the paper as Angel sped off down the empty, early-morning street. Should he go into the shop? He really had no reason to. He had much to do this day, plotting and executing the next step in the dance between Ree Ann and Angel. Jamie stepped outside just then and went about opening the tall shutters that covered the windows. He stilled, not wanting her to spy him there but at the same time unable to duck back around the corner and out of sight.
He'd enjoyed their time on the water. Mais oui, he'd more than enjoyed it. He'd found a kindred spirit in her. He'd never known a woman to find such primal joy on the water. He'd felt her every tremor of ple sure as if it were his own.
He scowled at his wayward thoughts. If the tru were to be told, he'd spent more time than absolutely necessary thinking about that day. Yes, he had to an lyze information about her in order to make her match. But this obsessive need to go over and over—
Jamie had secured the final shutter and moved back to the front door, where she paused. Sebastien eas around the corner behind him just as she glanc over her shoulder and looked directly to where he had been standing.
Too close for his comfort. He had to regain co trol, and swiftly. He had no time to waste explain his presence. Certainly she already knew he was behind the manufactured meeting this morning. Jus certainly she was crowing victory, still believing t was a match made in hell.
His composure returned, along with his smile. The added incentive of proving her wrong gave him just the focus he needed. With a light whistle, he turn and strolled down St. Phillip toward the river, mind already turned to his next move. The dance has begun.
Jamie smiled tiredly as the last customer stepped out the door. She glanced at her watch. Five minu and she could lock the door. It had been a long day the first time since the shop opened when she fou herself constantly eyeing the clock. She didn't kn why she felt so restless.
Her gaze was drawn to the front door. Liar, thought, you've been watching that door all day, ho ing Sebastien would come in. He hadn't.
She'd tried to talk to Ree several times that day, but for once her friend was uncharacteristically silent about her feelings. She'd smiled and charmed their customers, but Jamie couldn't shake the feeling that it was all a front. She knew it was because of Angel. Which was why, she told herself, she'd been hoping Sebastien would show his face. So she could tell him that she'd no longer sit back quietly while he plotted his little matchmaking schemes.
That is, if Ree didn't tear hi
m up one side and down the other first. She'd been none too happy with his machinations on her supposed behalf either. Jamie found another smile. Maybe letting Ree settle this with him would be the best solution.
“I'm all done in, sugar,” Ree called from the coffee bar. “I'm going to hand my bank and receipts over to Marta and head on home for a nice, long soak.”
Jamie stepped around the counter. “Ree, listen, I—”
Ree held up one hand but found a smile of her own. “Jamie Lynne, if you apologize for that man one more time, I swear.” She lowered her hand as her smile faded. “I'm fine, really. It was just a surprise. No harm done. I don't think Angel will be bothering me again.”
Jamie opened her mouth to ask why she'd been in a blue funk all day if that were the case, but she closed it again when she spied that same hurt she'd seen this morning. Finally, she nodded and said, “If you want to talk, you know where to find me. Okay?”
“I just need a warm soak, a nice little glass of white wine, and a good book. I'll be good as new tomorrow. Promise.”
Jamie wasn't so sure about that. But she did know one thing: She had to find Sebastien and tell him to back off. She didn't know what was really bugging Ree, but she did know that the last thing she needed was having Angel thrown in her path again.
Problem was, she had no idea where to find him. But she did have an idea where to start looking: Jack. Apparently he'd gotten a bit more chummy with Sebastien than Jamie had realized. The two had shared several meals, she'd discovered. God only knew what Jack had told him. He was loyal to his friends and family, but he was also a notorious sucker for a handsome face. And Sebastien had that in spades.
Jamie waved as Ree left, then she stepped outside to close the shutters and lock up for the night. Jack would be down at Beaudraux on Bourbon, doing makeup for the drag revue that was opening tonight. He'd be frenzied, but Jamie didn't care. It might work to her advantage. One way or the other, she was going to find Sebastien. And, for her cousin's indiscretions, she would have no compunction about guilting Jack into covering for her at work tomorrow so she could track the pirate genie down.
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