Under Her Spell (13 page)

The last comment was laying it on rather thick, but once she got started Bryony found it difficult to stop. She'd owned Heart's Desire long enough to meet some people
with fairly outlandish ideas, and she drew on that experience now. It seemed to work. Zach looked somewhat pale under his tan. For once, he was nearly speechless.

"You don't really believe all that nonsense?" he managed at last.

Bryony pretended she was shocked and hurt. "Of course. It's a
well known
fact. About Atlantis, I mean."

Zach blinked rapidly, his chest rising and falling faster than usual. A flush crept slowly up his neck as he bit back a harsh reply. Bryony could tell how much it cost him to remain calm. If he hadn't been intent on seducing her, she knew he would have exploded by now. She glowed with her triumph, enjoying her own mastery of the situation. This was more like it. This was fun.

"Dinner's nearly ready," she said, standing up. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," Zach answered. "But if dinner is anything like lunch --"

Bryony laughed. She'd taken pity on him and prepared chicken
fettucini
with vegetables and herb sauce -- still nutritious, but hardly soy strips and tofu. "Don't worry," she said. "And after dinner, I have a special treat for you."

"Is that right?" he asked, his lips curving into a suggestive smile. He fixed Bryony with the hungry stare that made her weak in the knees. "I'm looking forward to it."

She couldn't help the heat rising to her cheeks, or the desire that set her nerve endings on fire. Still, Bryony managed to keep her voice steady. "Good. Then you'll cooperate fully with what I have in mind."

He laughed, a low, sexy sound. "You bet I will."

Two could play at this game. "You'll enjoy it, I promise," Bryony said. "It will be very . . . educational."

"Is that right?" His grin widened.

"Oh, absolutely. I had my star chart done once and I learned so much about myself."

Zach's expression of anticipation came crashing down. "My star chart?"

She smiled at him, making her eyes wide and innocent. "Sure. What did you think I was talking about?"

Dinner was an exceedingly quiet affair. Zach ate glumly, his eyes fixed on his plate. Bryony savored the meal at first, but her mood darkened as the minutes passed. Zach barely looked at her. When he did, she could see the disappointment and confusion in his eyes. Bryony's plan was having exactly the effect she desired. So why did she suddenly regret the whole effort?

Outside, the threatened storm broke at last. Bryony could hear the torrential rain hammering the roof and the deck. Somewhere far off thunder sounded. Bryony swallowed hard, remembering her childhood fear of thunderstorms.

The first ominous roar always sent her scurrying to her parents' room, where her father muttered and groaned before finally relenting and letting her crawl into the bed. Brave Vivien held out longer, but in the end she would inevitably appear in the doorway. Their mother would hold them both tight and sing soft lullabies until they fell asleep. 

Now Bryony shivered lightly, rubbing the
goosebumps
on her bare arms. The memory made her throat tighten and brought
a sheen
of tears to her eyes. There was no one to hold her tonight, no one but the man she'd sworn to keep at a distance.

Zach saw her shiver, and a shadow of concern flickered across his face. "Are you cold?" he asked.

"A little," Bryony said.

"I'll start a fire," he said, leaping up and heading for the living room. Bryony followed him slowly. As he lit the logs piled in the brick fireplace, she halfheartedly gathered the charts and lists she'd brought home from the shop. Somehow, she'd lost her taste for the charade, but she couldn't stop now.

"When were you born?" she asked. "I'll need the exact date and the time --"

Zach stood up and spun to face her. His eyes snapped with dark fire. His expression was so cold and furious that Bryony felt fear rise in her throat. "Enough," he said, his voice sharp as a cracking whip. "I know exactly what you're up to, and I've had enough."

"What do you mean?" Bryony asked, but her heart sank.

"This isn't you," Zach said, gesturing around the living room. He stepped forward and took the astrological charts from her hands with surprising gentleness. "I think I know you better than that. You're a spiritual person, yes.
A romantic, certainly.
But you don't believe in Atlantis and the spirit of
Sekhmet
. You're only trying
put
some distance between us. And I want you to stop it. Starting right now."

Bryony kept silent, her eyes on the carpet. She didn't dare look at him.

"What are you afraid of, Bryony?" Zach said. "Why do you insist on trying to drive me away?" He reached out and forced her chin up, but Bryony jerked her head to the side, away from his touch.

"What do you want from me?" she said. Her voice shook with barely controlled emotion. Her eyes slid sideways away from his face. She still refused to look at him.

"I want -- I want . . . ." Zach faltered and shook his head. He took on a new, uncertain tone. "I want you to let down those damn defenses for one minute. Give me half a chance." His voice grew low and husky as he took her stiff body in his arms and
drew her closer. "I want to make love to you. Look me in the eyes, Bryony, and tell me you don't want the same thing."

Slowly, reluctantly, she obeyed.

Lifting her head, she stared up at him through thick half-lowered lashes. His strong jaw was rigid with anger and desire. His hands seared the skin on her back even through the cotton of her dress. She breathed in the scent of him, warm and masculine.

Bryony could feel the blood pulsing in her neck. When she spoke, her lips were stiff with the lie. "I don't want you," she whispered, her voice so low he had to lean closer to hear it. "I don't," she repeated.

"You're the worst liar I've ever met," he said, but she felt the pressure of his arms let up as he began to release her. Suddenly, she was flooded by sheer panic. She knew she couldn't stand for him to move away, couldn't bear to lose the warmth of his body against hers.

"No," she said, her hands closing around his upper arms. She could feel the tension in the ropy muscles under his shirt. "No, you were right. I lied."

"That's more like it." His hands moved up her back and rested on her shoulder blades. She could feel his thumbs moving seductively over the bare skin above the embroidered neckline
of  her
dress. His touch ignited a fire in her belly, a fire that spread quickly to her thighs. Zach bent his head and kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. His fine black hair brushed her cheek. Bryony made a small sound as his lips traveled lower.

"I do want you," she said, to distract herself from the startling new sensations coursing through her. She gasped as his lips grazed the tip of her breast. Even through her dress and the lace of her bra, the touch made her ache. "But I'm so afraid, Zach."

He lifted his head. "Afraid of me?"

She nodded, then, confused,
shook
her head. "Not of you, exactly. Of what's happening between us. It's too sudden, too intense. I'm afraid of losing control."

Zach chuckled, and the sound drove shivers up her spine. "I want you to lose control, darling. That's the whole point." He took her head between his hands, weaving his fingers into her silky hair and covering her mouth with a searching kiss. Her lips parted and their tongues touched. She melted into him like butter over an open flame. He tore his mouth away and smiled down at her. "Was that so frightening?"

"Yes," she said. She couldn't find the words to tell him why, but her fear was very real. It wasn't the physical act that frightened her, but the intimacy Zach seemed to demand. It was in the way he kissed her, the way he touched her.

"And this?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. His hands roamed possessively over her body. He slid them under her blouse and pushed it up to expose her breasts in their white lace cups.

"Yes," Bryony said again, but she let him ease the blouse over her head. Zach surveyed her firm breasts and slender body with appreciation. She flushed under his scrutiny and crossed her arms shyly over her chest.

"Don't," he said, shaking his head. "I want to see you." He enclosed her in the circle of his arms, and she dropped hers reluctantly to her side. He trailed kisses along her bare shoulder. Bryony tingled from the contact. She didn't protest when he unbuttoned her skirt and let it slide to the floor.

"You are truly beautiful," he whispered into her ear. "The firelight makes your hair look
more red than usual
. And you've got freckles -- I hadn't noticed before. Like tiny flakes of gold." He ran one finger lightly over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

Then he trailed his hands down her ribcage to her waist. Bryony shuddered with pleasure. "Come here," he said, his voice husky with need. He led her to the couch, where
she sank back on the cushions, her mind reeling. Zach knelt and unfastened her bra with sure, confident hands. He brushed his lips over hers and then moved his mouth lower, to rub it against her breasts. He touched his tongue to one nipple.

A sound of intense pleasure escaped her lips. He raised his head to smile at her. "Are you frightened now?" he whispered hoarsely.

She could only shake her head mutely. It was true -- she wasn't afraid anymore. She had surrendered to the delicious sensations created by his touch. More importantly, she'd admitted to herself what she had denied for days. Gazing up at Zach as he unbuttoned his blue chambray shirt with impatient fingers, she was swept by an overwhelming tenderness. This was more than desire, more than lust, more than a meaningless affair.

She loved him.

She loved Zachary Callahan, and there was no going back. Even if she never saw him again after tonight, she wouldn't regret a minute of their lovemaking. She knew he didn't return her love, and she could live with that fact if necessary. But she couldn't fight her feelings for him any longer.

Bryony let her head fall back and closed her eyes. A moment later, she felt the wonderful bareness of his chest against her own. His lips traveled lightly over the ivory skin of her exposed neck. "Bryony," he breathed. "Lord, if you had any idea what you do to me --"

She curled her lips into a sensual smile. Her green eyes opened slowly, cloudy with passion. "I think I have some idea," she whispered, reaching for his belt buckle.

Zach groaned as she undid it and unzipped his pants, freeing him. She ran her palms lightly over the crisp hair on his flat, hard belly. He caressed her thighs with gentle hands, kissing her lips so hard they began to feel almost bruised.

Bryony twined her fingers with his rougher ones, pulling him closer. He bore her down against the brocade fabric until she slid down beneath him, her hair fanned out against the claret-colored cushions.

His hands and his lips traced a path of exquisite ecstasy over her breasts and belly. Where his mouth had touched her, the air felt cool against her wet skin. She arched instinctively under him, drowned in an ocean of incredible sensation. He wedged his hand between their bodies and slid her silken panties over her thighs and down her long, slender legs.

"I can't wait any longer, sweetheart," he said at last, pressing his swollen sex against her until her body cried out for him. "I've got to have you now. I'm sorry, we'll go more slowly next time --"

"It's all right," she said, staring into his dark, dilated pupils. Her heart was so full of aching tenderness she thought it might explode. Tears of happiness swam in her eyes. She was almost sobbing with the pleasure of it. "I love you," she whispered into the corded muscles of his neck, hardly realizing what she was saying. "Oh, Zach, I love you so, so much."

He swore and pulled away so fast Bryony cried out in shock.

Her eyes flew open. Zach sat on the edge of the couch, his face in his hands. His labored breathing echoed through the living room, the only sound besides the torrential rain against the roof. He scrubbed at his eyes with clenched fists and swore again.

Bryony bit her lip to hold back a cry of despair. "What did I do wrong?" she asked, her voice ragged with misery. "Whatever it was, I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . ."

"Yes, you did," Zach said. "That's exactly the problem. You did mean what you said just now, didn't you?"

Bryony nodded, unable to speak. Tears streamed down her face. She wished she could take back her words, leave them unspoken, but it was too late. She gulped back the sobs rising in her throat. "Don't you want me?" she said in a small voice.

He turned to her with a look of disbelief. His voice matched the pure agony on his face.  "Can you doubt it? Right now I want you so badly it's nearly killing me. I'd like nothing more than to touch you, hold you, possess you --"

He stood abruptly and moved across the living room with quick, decisive strides, as if to put space between
himself
and temptation. He began pacing the room. Anger and frustration clouded his ruggedly handsome face. "Don't you understand? I can't take advantage of you, knowing that. You deserve better. You deserve someone who can love you back, someone who will marry you . . . ."