Your Wish Is My Command Read Online Free PDF

on Thursday.
    Jamie handed the bag containing two books to her customer. “Come back again.” With a nod and a smile, the older woman departed, jingling the bell on her way out.
    Turning to the deliveryman, Jamie acknowledged the three boxes and several thick garment bags he placed on her floor and shook her head. “I think you've made a mistake.”
    The young man checked the slip on the box. “Happily Ever After, right? You are Miss … Jamie Sullivan?”
    Frowning, Jamie nodded. “But I didn't order any of this.” She checked the suit bag, noting the name of a prominent men's shop in the Quarter. “Men's clothes?”
    He nodded, then tore the bill from the box and handed it to her. “C.O.D.”
    Jamie laughed and folded her arms. “Oh, I don't think so.”
    Ree Ann came out from the back, her arms full of fresh-cut flowers. “Who are they for?”
    “I have no idea. You didn't get the sudden urge to cross-dress, did you?”
    Ree Ann laughed. “Not in this lifetime, sugar. Maybe they're Jack's?”
    “I don't think he'd dare stick me with that bill.”
    “Maybe a gift for a new love in his life?” Ree teased, and Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “You're right.He prefers to be on the receiving end of such magnanimous gestures.”
    Jamie turned to the deliveryman, whose eyes were glued to Ree Ann. She didn't even sigh, long since used to this particular genetic disorder. “Is there another name on the order?”
    He reluctantly focused his attention back on Jamie. “Uh, let me see.”
    He read the name just as the bell announced another customer. Jamie echoed the name as the man himself stepped into the shop.
    “Sebastien Valentin.”
    “
Bonjour,
Mademoiselle Sullivan.” Sebastien's dark shadow filled the doorway. He made a short bow in her direction. The sunlight filtering into the shop seemed to bathe him in a golden glow, making him even more impossibly, devilishly handsome than she recalled. Which had been far more often than she cared to admit.
    “I'd finally convinced myself that you were a hallucination,” Jamie muttered. Apparently not softly enough.
    “Oh, I assure you, I am quite real,” he responded with a broad smile, earning a scowl from her.
    Like the pirate he was, he'd plundered her dreams that first night and each subsequent one since. She'd awoken every morning tangled in her sheets, frustrated that he'd wormed his way into her subconscious. And worse, she'd had to start each day with the emptiness of a hunger gone unfulfilled.
    She combated this sensation with a nice early-morning run along the Riverwalk coupled with one of Ree Ann's apple tarts—okay, maybe two. In the daytime, she'd been able to convince herself that she had the upper hand, since he wasn't really real or, at the very least, since he was gone for good.
    Yet here he was. Larger than life. Despite herself,she noticed his very nicely tailored street clothes and thought that they should have made him less imposing. Yet he crowded the room with that broad chest, those long legs, and all that thick shiny hair cascading to his shoulders. He almost looked more the marauder now than he had that night in full pirate regalia. He exuded sensual charm with that twinkle in his dark eyes and that smug, knowing smile curving those lips. God, those lips. Lethal lips. Lips that had touched hers.
    “Did you miss me,
ma chère?
” Before she could guess at his intent, he took her hand and gallantly kissed the back of it.
    She yanked it back and wiped it on her trousers. “No,” she lied baldly. “I'd forgotten all about you.”
    “You blush, Mademoiselle Sullivan. A sure signal that the heart and head are speaking different tales.”
    There was a counter between them, yet Jamie felt as backed against the proverbial wall as she had been literally that first night. She pointed to the boxes and garment bags. “I believe this delivery is for you,” she said, firmly taking charge of their conversation.
    “Yes, I hope you don't mind. I do not