Bryony clutched the counter so hard that her knuckles went white. Her lips began to tremble as Zach continued. "I've tried every antidote, fought it every step of the way, but it's no use," he said, his voice dropping so low it was almost a growl.
Bryony was unable to tear her eyes from the television. So intense was her concentration that she barely heard chimes above her door tinkle prettily as a customer came in.
On screen, Zach went on. "So the only thing left for me is to beg the spell's maker to take pity on a poor, foolish man. Bryony Lowell, if you're watching this, either set me free -- or marry me!"
Bryony gasped. Her knees buckled under her. She didn't see the shadow looming across the countertop until a man's silken voice purred into her ear, "So which will it be, Bryony?"
She whirled to find Zach watching her across the counter. For a moment, she was disoriented and confused. On television, he was still speaking, saying something she couldn't make out over the roaring in her ears. In the flesh, he was so close she could smell his musky cologne and see the tension in his jaw.
"If you want me out of your life, I'll go," the real Zach said. "I treated you terribly, and I'll understand if you can't forgive me. But I'd much prefer it if you'll agree to be my wife, because I love you with all my heart."
A joy so great she could hardly contain it bubbled up in her. Her eyes filled with happy tears. "Yes," she said. "Oh, Zach, yes."
His face brightened as if lit from inside by the sun. He reached over the counter, circled her waist with his hands, and lifted her over as easily as if she weighed nothing at all. And then she was in his arms, and they were both laughing.
Zach fumbled in his pocket and drew out a small, black-velvet covered box. "I was hoping you'd say yes," he whispered into her hair. Bryony gulped as he lifted her left hand and tenderly slipped on the ring. She stared at the brilliant diamond solitaire glinting up at her.
"It's beautiful," she said, her voice breaking. She put her arms around him again, pressing herself against his broad chest as if she would never let him go.
Zach held her so tight she thought her ribs would crack, kissing her as hungrily as she kissed him. Bryony was crying in earnest now, but Zach didn't seem to mind. His own eyes were suspiciously moist. He wiped the tears from her face with gentle fingers and brought his lips to hers once more.
When Bryony drew away at last, her face was solemn. "Will we live in San Francisco, then?" she asked.
Zach saw the consternation in her face and smiled. "I thought of that already. I can't make you leave Cypress Point, Bryony. I know how much you love it here. Besides, I'm starting to grow fond of it myself."
"It's such a long commute for you --"
Zach cupped his hand under her chin and drew her face up so that she looked into his dark, dancing eyes. "That's why I've resigned as editor of the Skeptical Observer. From now on, I'll stick with publisher and columnist. It's high time I promoted Martin anyway."
"But what will you do now?" Bryony asked.
"Well," he said, "I've always wanted to edit a small-town newspaper. It'll be a new challenge, and I'll bet I can even make the darn thing turn a profit."
"Do you mean --"
"That's right," Zach said. "You're looking at the new editor and publisher of the Cypress Point Gazette. I signed the papers an hour ago."
Bryony shook her head in awe. "I can't believe it," she said. "This is all too good to be true."
"No," Zach said, "you are, Bryony Lowell. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't care how differently we look at the world. I won't start wearing crystals or having my fortune told, but I'll keep an open mind."
Just then, the chimes rang and a customer stepped inside. She blinked at Bryony and Zach, locked in an embrace. "Should I come back later?" she asked. "I just wanted to ask about that love potion you sell. Does it really work?"
Bryony and Zach glanced at each other and dissolved into laughter. "It does," Zach said, smiling broadly. "I assure you, it works like magic."
Under Her Spell Page 17