Under Her Spell (7 page)

"And you won't settle for anything less," Zach said.

"Of course not." Bryony laughed wryly. "So you see why the men I've dated didn't have a chance."

"Maybe you're spending time with the wrong men," Zach said, throwing her own words back at her.

Bryony laughed and shook her head. "You could be right," she said, thinking of her last two boyfriends. They'd been nice enough, but they'd never confused and excited her the way Zach did. As much as he infuriated, annoyed, and challenged her, Bryony found herself enjoying his company.

It had been a long time since she'd been alone with a male she hadn't gone to elementary school with.
Perhaps it Zach's air of mystery that attracted her.
She never knew what to expect from him. One minute he was needling her, the next he was sensitive and kind.

"We should start back," she said at last, though she was reluctant to suggest it. "See, we're almost to the promontory." She pointed toward the finger of solid rock jutting from the cliff out into the ocean."

"Can't we climb past it?" Zach asked. "There must be more beach on the other side."

Bryony's heart jumped at the disappointment in his voice. She wondered if he might also be sorry their time together was ending. "We can cross over another time," she told him. "There's a beautiful little beach, very isolated and private. You have to do some wading and climb over some rocks to get there. Not tonight, though -- the tide's high. See how it covers the base of the promontory?"

Zach nodded. "I see it now. I guess you'd have to swim."

"Or call in the Coast Guard. There's no way out except up a sheer cliff."

They turned around and began the walk back to the house. They didn't talk, but the silence was a friendly one. The waves beat a soothing rhythm as their feet. The lights of the houses along the shore were tiny beacons in the darkness. Bryony let the night air caress her cheeks and neck. It was getting cooler, and she shivered a little.

"You're cold," Zach said, already struggling out of his jacket. "Here, put this on."

"I'm all right," Bryony
sai
, but it was too late. He had already draped the coat over her shoulders. She had to admit that the wool collar, still warm from Zach's body, felt good against the bare skin of her neck. "Now you'll freeze."

"I know how to heat things up," he said, leering good naturedly at her as he adjusted the coat around her shoulders.

"Excuse me?"

"We'll have a race. First one back to the house wins a forfeit from the other. If you win, I'll do anything you ask."

"And if you win?"

"Don't worry," Zach said. "I'll think of something I want." He swept his eyes over her body, implying a hundred sensual pleasures without saying a word.

Bryony felt the pleasant heat of arousal uncurling in her stomach. Her shallow breaths caught in her throat as she fought back the urge to move closer to him. He'd
derided her already tonight for throwing herself at him. She wouldn't give him another chance.

Instead, without a word, she turned and ran down the beach. From behind she heard his hoarse cry of mock outrage. Bryony felt like she could run forever. She barely touched the sand under her feet as she flew toward the house.

And then the ground was shaking with a giant's footsteps as Zach caught up to her and passed her by, as easily as if she was crawling. She saw the long muscles of his legs bunching and releasing under his jeans as he jogged past her.

When she drew up beside him a few moments later, he wasn't even breathing hard. The only evidence that he'd been running came from the thin sheen of perspiration over the tanned skin of his face.

He was grinning, his eyes glowing darkly. "You tried to cheat," he said, staring at her with a steely intensity. "But I won anyway. Now I want my prize."

Bryony felt her insides liquefy under Zach's demanding, hungry gaze. She couldn't tell whether it was the exercise or something else that made her breath come so rapidly. "Good thing we didn't really have a bet," she said.

"What? But --" Zach sputtered.

"We didn't shake on it," she said. "No handshake, no bet. At least, those are the rules Vivien and I always played by."

"Of all the childish --" He broke off, laughing. "All right. You get away with it this time, but next time no excuses. I'll expect to collect."

"Next time, I'll make the rules. And I'll win, too," Bryony said, thrusting out her chin like a boastful child. She couldn't contain the laughter bubbling up in her throat. Within seconds they were nearly doubled over laughing, both gasping for breath.

Stealing a glance at Bryony's face, Zach had to fight the urge to gather her in his arms. Her pale skin glowed softly, flushed slightly pink with running. The moonlight brought out the gold in her
red
hair. Her firm round breasts rose and fell gently against her sweater as she caught her breath. Enveloped in his bulky coat, she looked delightfully small and feminine. He took a step toward her . . . .

She wasn't looking at him. Her lips curved into a sweetly innocent smile of delight as she pointed to the stars. "Do you see there?" she asked. "That constellation to the right? That's Aries, my sign. What's yours?"

Zach slammed on his mental brakes. His lip twisted in disgust at himself. He'd almost forgotten why he was here, who Bryony was. She might have a pretty face -- and a body that haunted his dreams -- but her mind was clearly inferior. No doubt she read
her horoscope every morning and didn't make a move without consulting an astrologer. He'd met her type before.

Bryony turned to Zach and her smile faded. He was watching her with barely concealed contempt. Dismay swept over her as she puzzled the sudden change. She frowned, thinking of her last words. She'd been caught up in the joy of the beach at night, remembering how her father had taught her to identify the constellations. She'd asked his sign . . . . Oh, of course. The editor of the
Skeptical Observer
would harbor nothing but disdain for astrology.

"Let me guess," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "You don't even know what sign you are, because it's all nonsense."

"It certainly is." Zach's tone was more than a little self-righteous. "Don't tell me you believe in that ridiculous voodoo science."

"No, but I like to read my horoscope anyway," Bryony said. "Not because it means anything, but because it's entertaining. It can even be fun. However, I'm sure that's not a concept you scientific types are familiar with."

"Obviously not. We 'scientific types' wouldn't dream of having fun."

Bryony caught the undercurrent of humor in his voice and softened a little. "I only mean that you could try a little pretending once in a while. You don't have to believe in something wholeheartedly to enjoy it. That applies to astrology, love potions, and just about everything else in life. The key is knowing where to draw the line."

"That's exactly the problem," Zach said. "There are so many foolish people out there who don't know where, or how, to draw that line. They'll believe in any theory -- no matter how scatterbrained -- and let it rule their lives."

"So you've become their self-appointed guardian. How kind."

"It's not like that," he said. "If they had all the facts --"

"They would do exactly what they're doing now, for the most part."

"You're right," Zach said, with a sigh. "But I keep trying."

"But you go after the wrong people, sometimes," Bryony said. "Expose the greedy cult leaders, by all means. Stop the self-styled 'doctors' who claim to have a cure for cancer. Just don't ridicule those of us who are harmless, who are trying to fill people's need for a little fantasy."

To her surprise, Zach nodded. "You have a good point. But all those harmless little fantasies add up."

Bryony tilted her head so she could gaze straight up into his face. She tried to ignore the electricity of his nearness. "Am I such a threat to scientific progress?" she asked.

"No," Zach said. "I don't think you are."

His eyes played over her lips, and for an instant Bryony thought he might try to kiss her. She was both thrilled and frightened by the prospect. Her fear won out, and she took a quick step back before she could change her mind. "I think we should go in," she said, a little huskily, and the spell was broken.

Inside the house, the heated air enveloped her and thawed her chilled fingers. She let Zach lift his coat from her shoulders and felt a brief stab of regret at losing its weight and its warmth. It had almost felt like having his arms around her. "Well," she said, trying to ease the awkward moment. "Is there anything you need? Pillows? Extra blankets?"

"Thank you, no. Your sister has made sure I'm very comfortable."

"Then I suppose this is goodnight."

"Goodnight," Zach said. If he had hoped to spend more time with her, he didn't let on.

Bryony lingered a moment longer, wanting to say more. Zach raised an inquiring eyebrow and flashed the infuriating smile Bryony had come to know quite well. "Do you want to do something tomorrow?" she said. "Dinner?
Or another walk?
I suppose we should, since it's part of the deal."

His eyes danced as he answered. "You sound as if spending time with me is a burden."

"No! That is --"

"To answer your question, I'd be honored. We'll go out to dinner. You had better choose the restaurant, though."

"All right, then. Goodnight," Bryony said again.

Up in her bedroom, she twisted her hair into a casual bun and turned on the computer on her desk. She might as well get some work done on the campaign against the
Mandell
Corporation. It was too early to go to bed. Besides, she was still restless with the energy generated by the walk and by Zach's nearness. He'd managed to put her on edge.

One minute she could barely stand him, and then he said something endearing. Bryony couldn't decide whether she wanted to slap him or step into the shelter of his arms. She remembered how he had caught her, the pressure of his arms around her body, and her cheeks get warm. In that moment, she'd felt so safe, so treasured.

Bryony shook off the thought. It was very clear from their conversation about astrology that they were utterly incompatible. He thought of her as a simple little fool, and she thought of him -- well, she thought him as rigid, close-minded, and pompous. Zach might be devastatingly handsome, delightfully masculine, tremendously intelligent . . . . She stopped herself.

She would not let this stranger worm his way into her heart. Caring for Zach would only lead to disappointment. Sooner or later, Bryony reminded herself, they would go their separate ways. He would go back to the city, back to his magazine and his debutantes.

Then she would need to put his piercing dark eyes out of her mind forever. No use making it any harder than it had to be. She would enjoy his company, but that was all. She had to concentrate on the things that truly mattered. Like saving Kinney's Lagoon. Bryony stared resolutely at the blank screen of her computer monitor, forcing herself to concentrate on the perfect wording for her petition.

Though she worked for nearly two hours, she found it difficult to focus. A particular rugged face with laughing black eyes and an arrogant expression kept dancing through her mind uninvited. The more she fought to keep him out, the more she saw his athletic, virile body before her and heard the echo of his mocking laughter.

Finally, exhausted, she gave up and went to bed.

Zach was gone by the time she came downstairs the next day. Bryony had breakfast with Vivien and Kevin,
then
opened the shop for the day. It was all she could do to keep from closing Heart's Desire earlier than usual and rushing home. When she did get back to the house, though, Zach was nowhere to be found. Her heart sank. Perhaps he had forgotten all about their dinner plans. She resolved not to care. If he stood her up, she'd go out alone or call one of her friends. Holding her chin high, she marched up to her room for a hot bath.

A few minutes later, soaking in a tub overflowing with vanilla-scented bubbles, Bryony felt infinitely better. The water soothed away the minor aches and pains of a busy day. She closed her eyes and sunk deeper into the bath. Her mind floated in the distant
regions between consciousness and dreaming. Heart's Desire, Zachary Callahan, and Kinney's Lagoon were nothing but faint memories.

Someone pounded on the door.

Bryony, startled from her reverie, nearly jumped out of the tub. She fumbled for her fluffy white bathrobe and wiped the bubbles from her chin. Warm water soaked through the cloth and trickled down her shins. The knock came again, loud and insistent. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she called, knotting the bathrobe's belt around her waist. "What's the rush?"

She pulled open the door, expecting to see her sister. Instead, Zach towered above her, glancing with interest at her dishabille. His eyes fixed on her breasts, and Bryony clutched self-consciously at the neck of the bathrobe to impede his view.