"Thank you," Kevin said. "I could definitely use a hand with some of the larger furniture."
Bryony looked from one face to another, a little dazed. Kevin and Vivien were moving out tomorrow. That meant she'd be alone with -- "Vivien," she said. "You can't leave. We have a houseguest, remember?"
"Don't worry," Zach said. "We'll get along fine, just the two of us. Unless you're not comfortable having me here? I can always go back to the Sea View Inn."
"No need for that," Vivien said, fixing her sister with a fierce stare. "Is there, Bryony?"
"No," she said, against her better judgment. "Of course you can stay."
"So that's settled," Vivien said, looking like the cat who'd swallowed the canary. "Come on, Kevin, let's go do some more packing."
Bryony had the sudden feeling that her sister had planned the entire scene. She probably thought Bryony and Zach had a better chance of falling in love if they were alone. If Zach hadn't been standing there, Bryony would have corrected her.
Zach might have plans where Bryony was concerned, but they didn't have a thing to do with love. She was too smart to think the light in his eyes a few moments ago was due to anything more than simple desire.
"We'll leave you to dress," Zach said, his eyes sweeping her body again in that infuriatingly intimate way of his. "I'm starving, so don't be long."
"I'll hurry," Bryony promised, easing the door shut behind him. Alone again, she felt the strength drain from her knees. She collapsed on her bed, enjoying the tickle of her crushed velvet comforter against her skin. For a fleeting moment, she imagined Zach lounging next to her, his hand casually brushing her hair from her face.
Then she shook her head, smiling at her own foolishness. No doubt he would hate her bedroom. She'd decorated it like a chamber in a medieval castle, in silk and velvet and bright jewel tones. Bryony kept a wooden casket full of letters and mementos at the foot of the bed, and the dresser tops were scattered with pretty baubles, colored glass, seashells and dried flowers.
It was far too fanciful a room to please a hard-headed scientist type. She sprang up, the smile still lingering on her face, and began to rifle through her closet for the perfect outfit.
Twenty minutes later, they were in Zach's convertible, speeding north on Highway 1. The ends of Bryony's silk scarf fluttered in the breeze. She had chosen a long moss-colored skirt and a soft white ballet top with a scooped-out neckline. The scarf around her neck had belonged to her grandmother, and it made her feel safe and happy when she wore it. She'd decided she needed its comforting presence.
"The restaurant's just up ahead," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the sound of the motor and the wind whipping the words from her mouth. "See the sign on the left?"
Zach pulled into the parking lot and hurried around to the car's passenger side to open her door. She smiled at the courtesy and extended her hand so he could help her out. Zachary Callahan certainly knew how to make a woman feel treasured.
Bryony reminded herself sternly that the royal treatment meant nothing. It was just a habit, no doubt. He probably turned on the same dazzling charm for every woman he encountered, from his blond heiresses to toll-takers on the Golden Gate Bridge.
Zach proved her right a moment later by reducing the hostess to shy giggles and wangling one of the coveted tables by the window. From her seat, Bryony could look out over the steel blue Pacific. Even without the excellent food, the Eagle's Nest would have remained her favorite restaurant for the view alone.
"I hope the chef at this place is better than the one at Cypress Grove," Zach said, scanning the menu.
"Much better," Bryony said, laughing. "I swear."
"It couldn't be much worse." He joined her in her laughter. Bryony watched, fascinated, loving the way his eyes lit up and his face relaxed when he was enjoying himself. At this moment he was a far cry from the man she had seen the night before, the man who seemed determined to save the world from all superstition and ignorance.
Zach expertly ordered the wine and, once it arrived, proposed a toast. "To love potions," he said.
"You don't believe in love, do you?" Bryony asked. The question had just popped out, and she regretted it instantly when his face froze and his eyes turned cold. She could almost feel him drawing away from her.
"I don't have much reason to," he answered.
"Because of your ex-wife?"
"Yes, and others. It seems to me that love makes a man weak, or at least illogical. People in love do things they would never ordinarily do."
"They trust each other. Is that what you mean?" Bryony asked. She sipped her wine, feeling it burn a delicious trail down her throat. The candle in the center of the table flickered, casting shadows on Zach's solemn face.
"Love makes women stay with men who beat them," Zach said. "It makes people murder each other out of jealousy."
"No!" Bryony burst out fervently, a lump in her throat. "How could you even think like that? That's not what love's all about. Love is . . . caring about someone else's happiness more than your own. It's making another person the center of your universe. It's a partnership, a commitment. You're mistaking it with dependence, or obsession, but neither of those things are love."
She fell silent as the waiter set their meals before them. Her linguine with clam sauce smelled wonderful, but she was too stirred up to eat. She thought of her parents holding hands like newlyweds, her father bringing her mother tea every night before bed, the daffodils she picked for him. Bryony could almost see her mother's face, so pale and strained, after her father's heart attack. Her mother sat by his hospital bed hour after hour, whispering fiercely into his ear until he'd recovered after all, against expectations.
"You're thinking of your parents," Zach said, and Bryony realized the tears trembling in her eyes had given her away.
"Yes," she said. "If you'd known them . . . ."
"I wish I had," Zach said. "My parents -- they're great people. Very witty, intelligent, well-spoken. But they've never been terribly warm. Their marriage is solid but more friendly than passionate."
"They must love each other, if they're still together after all these years."
"They have an agreement," he said. "I'm not sure I would call it love."
"That's sad." Bryony tilted her head thoughtfully. "Do you mind my asking -- were you in love with Eve?"
"I don't mind," he said, but Bryony saw the flicker of pain in his eyes and the way his jaw muscles tightened. He was silent a moment, considering. "No," Zach answered at last, staring out at the sea through a gathering darkness. "I thought she would be . . . suitable. We looked good together. She was well bred, well educated, beautiful."
"But not kind," Bryony said.
"I didn't think that was important." He brought his head up suddenly to look at her. "You are. Kind, I mean."
"Yes, and silly, romantic, impractical, superstitious -- all the things you hate."
"Funny," Zach said, his lips twitching into an almost-smile. "You're all those things, and still I have to like you."
Bryony glowed at the tentative compliment. She poked at her linguine, unable to meet his eyes. She knew she shouldn't care so much, but for some reason it meant a great deal that this man should like her. Like wasn't so very far from love, after all.
Or was it? Bryony bit her lower lip and fought to keep her feelings in check. She couldn't afford to forget why they were here together in the first place. It was all a game, nothing more, and against her will she was getting caught up in it. She'd expected to dislike the man sitting across from her. That would have made it so much easier. The problem was, she liked him too. Maybe more than liked him.
The conversation turned to lighter subjects. Bryony found herself telling Zach about Heart's Desire and her struggle to turn a profit. He listened attentively and made a few good suggestions. As she might have expected, he had an excellent head for business. He told her about buying the Skeptical Observer and the lean years before the magazine had taken off
. Before she knew it, they were sharing a plate of berries and melted chocolate, fighting over the last of the whipped cream.
"It's been a long time since I've laughed this much," Zach said as he opened the car door for her. "You're good for me, Bryony Lowell."
"Thank you," she said, smoothing her skirt. Inside she was humming with pleasure. Nothing could spoil this most perfect of evenings. She loved sitting here next to Zach, feeling the wind whip at her hair, smelling the ocean, and catching sparkling glimpses of it through the trees lining the road. They began to drive along the edge of Kinney's Lagoon, and Bryony drank in the sight of it. The water lay still and shining in the moonlight, stretching out to the bluffs and the deserted beach.
"This is where they want to build the resort," she said.
"Seashore Estates? The Mandell Corporation's project?"
Bryony turned to Zach, surprised. "You know about that?"
"I've read about it in the San Francisco papers," he said. "I hear a bunch of loony tree huggers are opposing the project. They haven't got a chance, though. It'll bring a ton of money into the economy, and Mandell has some heavy hitters pushing for it in Sacramento."
Bryony swallowed hard, trying to hide her anger. "Then you think it's all but over?"
"It is over," he said. "Oh, no doubt the granola crowd will scream and shriek and gnash their teeth, but in my opinion it's a done deal."
"Really?" Bryony said, unable to keep the rancor from sharpening her voice. "So much for the democratic process, then. I might as well throw away my petitions and forget it."
Zach glanced over at her, suddenly wary. "Don't tell me --"
"That's right," she said. "I'm one of those 'loony tree huggers' standing in the way of progress. That lagoon is a precious natural resource. It belongs to the thousands of birds and other wildlife that live there. What do you think will happen to them when people start building swimming pools and golf courses just a few feet away?"
"They'll go somewhere else," Zach said with a shrug. "That's the price of progress."
"It's too high a price. Far too high." Bryony shuddered at his casual disregard for the lagoon she loved. They settled into a stony, uncomfortable silence. Bryony's throat closed up as she contemplated the end of their enchanted evening. The argument recalled for her, again, how different they were. Zach was blind to everything she held dear. And yet she still couldn't bring herself to hate him.
They said goodnight, the disagreement over Seashore Estates casting a pall over their relationship. Bryony thought she saw a hint of regret in Zach's eyes, but he didn't apologize.
As she climbed the steps to her room, Bryony felt weighed down by an exhaustion that was more emotional than physical. She changed into her favorite nightgown, ivory cotton edged with lace, and picked up the book on meditation she'd been reading. Curling up in her curved wicker chair, she tried to concentrate on the words.
Instead, she found herself staring out at the moon. Zach kept intruding on her thoughts. She didn't understand him at all. How could he seem so caring one moment and so callous the next? Her own reaction to him was even harder to fathom.
Sexual attraction was one thing, and she had to admit that she was attracted to him. Even thinking of him as she sat alone in her room made her heart jolt in her chest and her breasts tingle under the soft fabric of her gown. When they were together, she was aware of him with an intensity she'd never felt with another man.
Still, there was something more. When his steely expression melted to tenderness, when she caught a flash of delight in his eyes, she felt a corresponding joy rise up in her. When they laughed together, she felt giddy with happiness. She was suddenly very afraid that her whole plan was backfiring on her.
She couldn't be falling in love with Zach, she just couldn't. That would ruin everything. He would go back to the city in another week, and where would that leave her? He would mock her in his column, and the entire world would know that he didn't love her back. So she would just have to put a stop to these feelings, and she had to do it now.
With that resolve in mind, she went to bed. Unfortunately, a simple decision wasn't enough to keep her from thinking of him. Even sleep couldn't do that. In her dreams, Zach taunted her, laughed at her, and then -- just before she woke, drenched with sweat -- kissed her gently and sensually on the lips.
"So, what did I miss?"
Bryony rolled her eyes. "Where do I start? Kasey, you won't believe everything that's been happening around here."
Kasey Stollmeyer, Bryony's only employee and her best friend since high school, widened her eyes in anticipation. "I leave town for one week, and already I'm behind on the gossip. Another fist fight at the Chamber meeting?"
"Not exactly." Bryony straightened a display of Tarot cards and moved on to restocking the incense. Technically, she had the weekend off, but she couldn't stay away from Heart's Desire. Even though she trusted Kasey with the shop, she liked to make sure things were just so. Besides, she wanted to get her friend's advice on the situation with Zach. "There's this man . . . ." she began.
When she reached the part about the love potion and Vivien's idea, Kasey's mouth fell open. "And he agreed to this? Zachary Callahan, playboy publisher, agreed to live with you for almost two weeks?"
"That's right," Bryony said. "And we'll be alone in the house in a day or two. He's off helping Viv and Kevin move into their new place as we speak."
"Wow." For once, Kasey was nearly speechless. She tossed her mane of blond hair over her shoulder and threw herself down in the stuffed chair Bryony kept near the book racks. "I've seen pictures. He's a total babe."
"Yes, he is," Bryony said. "And he's not the least bit in love with me. In another week, he'll go back to San Francisco and tell the world I'm a fraud."
"Is that really what's bothering you, that he'll make fun of your love potion in his column?" Kasey asked. "Because I seem to remember you saying the potion was just for fun. So maybe it's him not being in love with you that's the problem."
"What do you mean?" Bryony asked. "Are you implying that I --"
"Have certain feelings for this guy, and wish he would reciprocate? Exactly."
"I have to admit, there are moments when he's not so bad. But we can't even talk without fighting. Besides, he's got a thing for rich, sophisticated blondes. I can't compete."
"Hey, you think he'd be interested in me?" Kasey asked. "Except for the rich part . . . . No, really. I don't see why he shouldn't fall in love with you. You're beautiful, smart, and fun. What else could a guy ask for? You've just got to approach this thing from the right angle."
"The right angle?" Bryony raised her eyebrows.
"Yeah. You need a plan."
"Oh, no," Bryony said. "Not a plan. Between you and Vivien, I'm surprised none of your plans have killed anyone."
"Not yet," Kasey said with a grin, bouncing up to grab a pen and a pad of paper from beside the cash register. "Now, here's what you have to do . . . ."
Ten minutes later, they were nearly rolling on the floor with laughter. Kasey had covered the piece of paper titled "Plan for Making Zachary Callahan Fall in Love" with a dozen items, "Cook his favorite meal" being the least outrageous.
"What's this?" Bryony asked, jabbing her finger at one item on the list. "Kasey, I'm not going to seduce him. That's ridiculous."
"Well, it's the last resort," Kasey said with mock solemnity. "Don't do that unless all else fails. Except, of course, if you really want to." She smiled devilishly, leering at her friend until Bryony rocked with laughter.
"Oh, please," Bryony said, giggling so hard her stomach hurt. It felt wonderful to let go after the tension of the past few days. "I don't think I'm that desperate."
"Oh, no?" Kasey said, sobering a little. "Come on, Bryony, when's the last time you even went out on a date?"
"It hasn't been that long," she said. "I don't know, a few months?"
"Try last year. With Stephen Prescott."
"That's right, Janie's cousin
. And it turned out that jerk was already engaged to a woman in San Rafael, so it's a good thing we didn't go out again. Give me a break, Kasey. I've been busy with the shop."
"Not that busy," she said. "Anyway, I think you should give Zach a chance. Seriously, now. You said you disagree about everything, but have you really shown him your side of things?"
"What do you mean?"
"Show him who you really are," Kasey said. "Don't let him get away with his assumptions. Make him care about the things you love."
Bryony considered her friend's words for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I think you've got something there," she said, letting her lips curve into an impish smile. She'd just had a brilliant idea of her own. "That's actually good advice, for once."
"Gee, thanks." Kasey pretended to hit Bryony with a jade throw pillow. "It's about time you listened to me. So what are you going to do?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Bryony said. She tore the list off the pad of paper, wadded it up, and stuffed it in her pocket. "Sorry, Kasey, but that's my little secret."
"Not fair! You have to tell me."
"My lips are sealed," Bryony said. "Goodbye, Kasey." Her best friend's wail of thwarted curiosity trailed her as she stepped out of the shop and closed the door firmly behind her.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Go away!" Zach shouted, groaning and burrowing his head deeper into his pillow. "Leave me alone, damn you."
The relentless pounding continued, drumming into his sleep-fogged brain. When he couldn't stand it any longer, Zach growled and sprang out of bed. He crossed the floor in three quick strides and flung open the door.
Bryony stood there, fully dressed, with her hair in a jaunty ponytail and her face freshly scrubbed. Her cheeks glowed with health and a good night's sleep. She had already raised her fist to hammer on the door again. She lowered it as he leaned threateningly toward her. "What?" he snarled.
"I've been knocking forever," she said, shaking her head. "You're obviously not a morning person,"
"You call this morning?" he asked, glancing at the still-dark windows. "The sun isn't even up. What time is it, anyway?"
Under Her Spell Page 6