Read Online Under Her Spell by Isabella Ashe - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Isabella Ashe
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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
"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
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