Read Online Under Her Spell by Isabella Ashe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Isabella Ashe
Ads: Link
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
"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
Similar Books
