Under Her Spell (20 page)

He chuckled hoarsely, with something close to pain in his laugh. Bryony opened her eyes and stared into his, pleased to find that she wasn't the only one enduring the sweet torture of restraint. Zach's teeth were clenched as he visibly held himself back. His
hands ranged over her body as if he owned it, leaving her gasping and arching her back to meet his caresses.

At last, when she could bear it no longer, Zach's fingers hooked under her apple-green bath towel and pulled it from her body, flinging it away in one quick motion. He slid out from under the covers and lay exposed in all of his magnificent nakedness.

Eyeing his flat stomach, slim hips, and long, muscular legs, Bryony wondered why she had never realized that the male body could be so beautiful. Zach reached for her and swung her over his body, guiding her as she lowered herself onto him with a small sound of pure pleasure. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the instinctive rhythm of lovemaking.

The flames of passion burning in her groin ignited as she soared to heights she'd never even imagined, barely feeling Zach's guiding hands on her waist or his hard thighs beneath her, until the darkness behind her lids blossomed into a riot of swirling color and went white.

Only then did she open her eyes to see Zach's face, damp with sweat and shining with an angelic radiance. He was watching her with shining, peaceful eyes and a smile of utter contentment. Once more, Bryony was flooded by a sense of overwhelming tenderness and love.

She sank into the comfort of his embrace, and they lay together silently for several long minutes. Speech was unnecessary. Bryony had never felt so close to another human being. She felt as if their souls had joined, as if they were two people woven from the same cloth.

When she spoke at last, it was reluctantly. She hated to break the spell. "I really have to go," she said. "I know I'll have a crowd ready to break down the doors. Besides," she added lightly, "there's always tonight."

Zach turned to her, his brow creased by worry lines. "Yes, and then tomorrow I'm going back to the city."

Bryony touched his cheek, biting her lip to hold back the quick tears. "I know. I've known all along that you'd leave eventually, but don't let's allow it to spoil our happiness, all right?" She slipped from his arms and crossed the room to her bureau drawer, where she slipped into a pair of white silk panties and a matching bra.

"Well, we also talked about seeing each other on weekends. It's not as if tonight were our last night together," Zach said. "Is it?"

Bryony pulled on a short black cotton dress with short sleeves and a businesslike collar, adjusting the dress around her hips. She turned to look at Zach. "I don't know. I've . . . I've tried not to think about it."

"You know I can't offer you any kind of promises, but I do care about you, Bryony. God, I don't want to lose you."

Bryony nodded, moved by the unhappiness in his voice. Still, she knew she needed time. She needed to leave this bedroom where he'd given her such intense pleasure and begin to sort things out. "I don't know," she said again. She couldn't meet his eyes. Instead, she examined herself in the mirror above her bureau as she gathered her nearly dry hair into a loose bun at the base of her neck and secured it with a scrap of black lace.

Zach climbed out of bed and strode across the room to wrap his arms around her from behind. They stared into the mirror together. They were an attractive couple, Bryony thought. Her flaming hair contrasted well with his dark curls. His face was so rough and chiseled, her own so delicate. They were as different outside as inside.

"Can we talk about it tonight?" Zach asked. "I want to convince you, before I leave, that we have some kind of future together. I can't offer you much right now, it's true. But I can't stand the thought of never seeing you again. Maybe, someday . . . ."

He trailed off, and Bryony winced. She didn't need any "
somedays
" to know how she felt about Zach. She loved him. She wished from the bottom of her soul that he felt the same way. But he didn't, and she had to remember that fact.

"All right," she said. "We'll discuss it tonight."

"Good. You spend the day thinking about our relationship, and I'll try to get some work done."

"Make yourself at home," Bryony said, kissing him quickly on the lips. She found her purse and dashed downstairs to grab a muffin she could eat on the way to
work .
She had a business to mind, she told herself sternly. She'd keep her promise to Zach later, when she had a moment to spare.

It wouldn't take her very long to make her decision. Deep down, she already knew what her decision must be, for the sake of her pride and her dignity. It was also the hardest decision she had ever made.

It would break her heart.

Zach sat at the desk in Bryony's glass-enclosed workshop, frowning over a blank sheet of paper. He'd puttered around all day, trying to avoid the task ahead. It had been a productive morning in other ways, though. He'd spent several hours on the telephone with scientist friends, trying to find out if any ornithological institutes were in the market for land.
everal
people had expressed interest and promised to look into saving Kinney's Lagoon. Zach didn't want to tell Bryony about his efforts unless they produced concrete results. Still, he was optimistic.

Now he had no more excuses. He had to sit down and write his column.

Words had always come easily to Zachary Callahan. After all, he made his living as a writer and editor. He'd always scoffed at those who claimed writer's block as an excuse for not finishing an assignment. Now, for the first time in his life, he was suffering from the ailment he'd mocked so fiercely.

True, these were extraordinary circumstances. Zach tapped his heavy gold pen against the empty paper and stared out the window at a wide expanse of ocean. Sapphire blue, it lay calm and flat, the tantrums and storming of the preceding days all but forgotten.

Zach remembered Thursday's angry, crashing waves and the terror he'd felt seeing Bryony trapped on the rocks.
If he'd lost her that day. . . .
He shuddered despite the warm sunshine streaming through the windows.

On the beach, seeing her strained white face above him on the promontory, a thought had flashed through his mind. Caught up in the rescue attempt, he'd dismissed it immediately. Now it came into his mind again.

How could he live without her?

How could he return to his sterile, barren life? How could he go back to working impossibly long hours, dating gold-digging debutantes, going home to an empty apartment every night? How could he stand by and let Bryony Lowell slip away?

Zach knew, as he sat there staring out at the sea, that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He thought of her quick smile, her bright, eager eyes, how she made him furious beyond belief, how she made him laugh. She was full of crazy schemes, harebrained notions, and more joy than he'd ever dreamed possible.

Zach thought of the way her hair gleamed with gold fire, the way her eyes snapped at him when she was angry, and the tears of happiness glistening in her eyes when he made love to her. He remembered her body silken and yielding under his, her unselfish yearning to give him pleasure, how her lips trembling with need as he roused her body to greater and greater heights.

As he thought on all of these things, something in his chest softened and began to melt. He tore his gaze from the gently undulating sea and put his pen to the paper.
Once in a great while,
he wrote
, I am wrong. Today I want to tell you about a love potion that worked.

His lips curved into a smile as he wrote. His readers would be scandalized and enraged by this column. But Bryony would love it. Besides, it was the truth.

Two hours later, he began writing the final paragraph. Never had the words flowed so easily as they had this afternoon. He'd never enjoyed writing a column so much.

His pen ran dry just as he went to write the last few words. Cursing, he shook it and tried again. Nothing. He tossed it into his briefcase and rummaged for another pen, but it was the only one he'd brought.

There were no pens on Bryony's desk, either. Zach frowned. The perfect closing sentence hung on the tip of his tongue, begging him to write it down. He opened the top desk drawer, spotted a ball point pen, and reached for it. Then he froze.

His throat closing in disbelief, he picked up the wrinkled sheet of paper staring up at him. "Plan for Making Zachary Callahan Fall in Love," it said across the top in a curvy feminine script. Underneath was a list of items.

He read each one, his breath quickening with growing rage. His sense of betrayal swelled and turned his heart to steel.

When he had finished reading, he put the paper down. Zach gathered up the pages of his column and slowly, deliberately, ripped them to shreds. He placed the torn pages carefully in the pocket of his briefcase and took out a stack of clean, blank pieces of paper. His face rigid with anger, he began to write.

"Does this really work?" the skinny young man asked. He held up a small crystal vial of Bryony's love elixir.

She smiled to keep from crying. "Not always," she said. The young man's face fell, and she sighed, pressing the heel of her palm against her forehead. "Don't mind me -- I'm not myself today. Of course it works, if you use it on the right person."

"That's easy enough," the customer said, laughing. "I don't expect miracles."

"No," Bryony said. "It's never a good idea to expect too much."

She was exhausted, and her head ached. Business had been heavy all day, the customers were demanding and full of questions, and Bryony's feet hurt. Her exhaustion wasn't only physical. A heavy sadness weighed her down. She felt as if she were dragging a sack of lead around on her back.

If she opened that sack, as she had not yet dared to do, she knew she would find her decision to tell Zach it was over. Seeing him again, after tonight, would only hurt worse than saying goodbye. Either way, he would go back to his old life as a wealthy, socially prominent bachelor and eventually forget about his vacation romance.

Bryony knew she couldn't bear to sit around in Cypress Point waiting for his next visit. She didn't need the humiliation of answering questions from curious townspeople about when her handsome young man was going to marry her. Most of all, she couldn't stand to hold her breath and wonder how long it would be until she picked up the newspaper and saw a photo of Zach in the social column with his latest blond heiress.

They had nothing in common. Bryony knew she wasn't Zach's type. Whatever promises he made, whatever plans they came up with, their relationship was doomed. It had blossomed only because they were thrown together by Vivien's ridiculous plan.

Surely Zach wouldn't use his column to humiliate her. A week ago, this certainty would have seemed a major victory. Now it paled beside the fact that she was losing him. She loved him, and he didn't love her in return.

She shook her head at her own foolishness. She was determined to make up for it. Tonight she would be as clearheaded, as logical, as unromantic as Zach had ever claimed to be. It was the only way to get out of this mess.

If only it didn't hurt so much.

"Miss? Excuse me, Miss? How much is this incense over here?"

Bryony was jolted from her thoughts by the insistent voice of a tourist in a mustard-orange pantsuit. Bryony pointed to the large sign with the price on it and forced a smile. Only three hours until closing time.

She wished she had more to look forward to tonight. But she knew her conversation with Zach would be difficult, and that she would have to stay strong. It
would be easier if she didn't melt so easily under the touch of his dark eyes and his warm smile. If only his hands on her body didn't turn her insides to jelly. She thought of the long, lonely
nights
ahead -- nights without Zachary Callahan in her bed -- and clenched her teeth against the pain.

"Hey, why don't you get out of this place?" a voice said in her ear.

Bryony jumped. "Kasey! What are you doing here on your day off?"

"I thought I'd relieve you so you could go home and go back to bed," her friend answered, winking at her. "Alone or with company, your choice. Come on, you can afford to take the rest of the afternoon off," she said, gesturing around the packed store. "Business is booming."

"I don't know . . . ."

"Besides," Kasey added, "you don't look at all recovered. You're awful pale."

"You're right. I'm not feeling very well," Bryony said. She didn't add that her tiredness was more emotional than physical. "Thanks, Kasey. You're the best."

"That's what friends are for," Kasey said. "Now get home to that man of yours and let me take over."

Bryony obeyed. The fresh air and sunshine on the walk home helped buoy her spirits. By the time she started up the steps to her house, her cheeks were glowing and her step was light. Despite the circumstances, she felt her heart sing at the prospect of seeing Zach again.

She called his name as soon
a
she stepped inside the house, but there was no answer. The living room and kitchen were empty. Bryony hung her coat carefully in the closet by the door and then climbed the stairs to her room.