Authors: Isabella Ashe
Bryony stretched and eased herself to a sitting position. "I wish he hadn't told you," she said. "I didn't want you to worry."
"You can't keep something like that from me. It was such a foolish thing to do -- you might easily have drowned."
"I know," Bryony said.
"Thank God Zach was there to rescue you."
Bryony bristled a little. "I might have been all right on my own."
Vivien snorted. "Maybe, but I'm glad you didn't have the chance to try. If I'd lost you too . . . ."
Bryony heard Vivien's voice
quaver.There
were tears trembling in Vivien's eyes. "Oh, don't cry," Bryony said, reaching to hug her older sister. "It turned out just fine. I'll never do anything like that again, I promise."
"You'd better mean that," Vivien said, glowering down at her. "If you go and get yourself killed, I'll murder you."
"That will be a neat trick if I'm already dead," Bryony said. They both burst out laughing. "I'm feeling fine now, really," she added. "
ust
a little feverish. No need to fuss."
"I'm the doctor here," Vivien said. "Let's see what this says." She placed the thermometer under Bryony's tongue. When she reclaimed it and had a look, some of the strain drained from her face. "You're all right," she said. "It looks like it's just a touch of flu. Take some Tylenol and I'll come check on you again tomorrow."
Bryony rolled her eyes, grinning. "You doctors are all alike. 'Take two aspirin and call me in the morning.' You spent four years in medical school for that?"
"I'd be happy to operate," Vivien said. "How about a lobotomy? Or I could cut out that sharp tongue of yours."
"Get out of here," Bryony said. "Go home to that handsome husband of yours before I throw you out."
"Glad to. But first, I'll go downstairs and reassure a certain magazine publisher. He's pacing like an expectant father. From the way he sounded on the phone, I was sure you were on your deathbed. What's going on with you two, anyway?"
Bryony bit her lip. It was a good question. They were lovers. Sometimes, in the past few days, she'd thought they might be friends. But essentially nothing had changed. Zach was still leaving on Sunday. He was still publisher of the
Skeptical Observer
and she was still the subject of his upcoming column. Zach was coolly rational and objective,
while she liked to believe in the possibility of magic. He didn't think much of love, and she was a consummate romantic.
"I'm not sure," Bryony said at last.
Her sister must have seen the shadows pass over her face, because she didn't press for details. Instead, she reached for Bryony's hand and squeezed it. "I'm here when you're ready to talk about it," she said.
"Thanks, Sis. You're the best." For the second time that night, she gave Vivien a quick hug.
When Zach came in few minutes later, he looked relieved. He fetched her some tablets from the medicine cabinet and held the water glass to her lips while she swallowed them. She smiled at him, touched by his tenderness. He was so handsome in the lamplight, with a solemn expression on his face and concern shining in his dark eyes.
"Vivien says you're to go right to sleep," he said, reaching to turn off the bedside lamp. "I'll leave you alone to rest."
Bryony felt a surge of disappointment. "Are you sure you won't --"
"It wouldn't disturb you if I slept here with you?"
"I'd be hurt if you didn't," she said. "If you aren't afraid of catching my flu --"
"I believe I'll risk it."
When he slipped in beside her a few minutes later, she snuggled up to him under the velvet comforter. He wrapped one muscular arm around her and pulled her into the curve of his body. Bryony sighed with contentment and fell almost immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Zach lay awake much longer, thinking.
In the pale moonlight streaming through the window, he gazed for a long time at the woman in his arms. His eyes lingered on the curve of her flushed cheek, the silky red-
gold tumble of her hair. Her face in slumber was relaxed and innocent as a child's, utterly without guile. Her lips curved into a faint smile.
He felt a fierce rush of protectiveness and something else, something he couldn't name. Seeing Bryony trapped on the promontory, with the waves crashing around her, he'd felt as if a vise had closed around his heart. He'd never felt so afraid as in that moment.
Bryony murmured in her sleep and shifted in his arms, molding
herself
even closer to his body. Zach felt the familiar stirring in his groin. It had been a long time since he'd wanted a woman so much. Perhaps he never had. Surely he would tire of her eventually. He always did. And yet . . . somehow he wondered. His emotions were jumbled, confused.
He looked down at Bryony again. Her gold-tipped eyelashes fluttered, and he thought for a moment she might wake up. But no, she was just a restless sleeper, turning a little until she could rest her cheek against his shoulder.
She was so unlike anyone he'd ever met. So fanciful and whimsical, not at
all the
no-nonsense, logical-minded woman he might have imagined himself falling for. And yet, she was undeniably intelligent. She didn't take her beliefs and interests to extremes. He might find Heart's Desire's merchandise frivolous, but there was no denying Bryony's skill as a businesswoman.
Zach sighed and pulled her closer, fitting her slender body to his. The situation was getting complicated. When he'd agreed to drink her love potion, he hadn't known what he was getting into. It was probably best that he leave Cypress Point in the next few days. The longer he stayed, the harder it would be to go home. Already, he'd stayed longer than he had intended. His magazine needed him.
Besides, he had a column to write.
"Hey! Get back in bed this minute," Zach said. He folded his brawny arms in front of his chest, a menacing look on his face.
Bryony, her feet halfway to the floor, started guiltily.
She'd thought he was still downstairs.
"I was just getting up for some juice," she said. "I'm thirsty."
"I told you, I'm at your beck and call today. You're not to get up."
"Yes, sir," Bryony replied, her green eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Watch yourself, young lady," Zach said, but he was smiling. "Don't get sassy on me, now. I'll be right back."
He reappeared a few minutes later with a glass of cold orange juice and his briefcase. "What's that for?" Bryony asked.
"I thought I'd do some work up here," he said. "That way I can keep an eye on the patient."
"I don't need anyone to keep an eye on me," Bryony said, "but you can keep me company if you like."
"Fine." He grinned and settled down at her desk, pulling out a legal pad. Bryony set aside her novel and watched him write. She loved just looking at him. Today he wore a V-neck T-shirt that revealed a triangle of the dark hair on his chest. His form-fitting jeans rode his slim hips and showed the corded muscles of his thighs. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn't look up at all.
"Wonderful company you've turning out to be," she said at last, her lower lip thrusting itself into a pout. "You're neglecting the patient."
Zach looked up, flashing his strong white teeth at her. "Can I get you something? Aspirin? More juice?"
"You could fluff my pillows."
He laughed and strode over to the bed. "Your every wish is my command, dearest love."
Her heart skipped a beat at the endearment. She would have died to hear him call her that again, softly, while looking into her eyes so she could see he meant it. Instead, his tone was light, and he was chuckling and shaking his head over her whims, tossing her pillows playfully into the air and catching them as they fell.
He propped up the pillows behind her and set his large, masculine hands on her shoulders, pushing her gently back. His touch sparked a warm, happy glow all through her body. "How's that? Better?" he asked, brushing her hair from her face with such tenderness that Bryony wanted to cry.
"Fine," she said, smiling up at him. "I guess I just wanted some attention."
"
Mmm
. I'd love to give you some," he said, his eyes hungrily taking in her body underneath the thin sheet. "But you're still sick, and I have work to do."
"Not that kind of attention," Bryony said, laughing
..
"I just wanted to talk, or hold each other."
Zach sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her. His face grew serious and a little grim. "What do you want to talk about?"
She sighed at the dread in his voice. "Not what you think. Don't worry, I won't forget what we agreed yesterday." She fidgeted with the delicate lace edging the sheet, unable to meet his eyes. "I don't want you being sorry you made love to me."
"I could never be sorry about that," Zach said.
"I'm glad." Bryony impulsively reached out and put her arms around his shoulders, leaning her head against his broad chest. A contented smile spread across her face. "I suppose I just wanted you to reassure me that this was really happening. It
reminds me of one of the fairy tales I like to read. I mean, we started out enemies and now we're lovers. I've never been swept off my feet before. I think I like it."
Zach stroked her hair and grinned down at her. "It's really happening, sweetheart. I promise. But I wouldn't exactly call it a fairy tale."
She let out another sigh, this one blissful. "I know, I know. No promise of a happy ending. Still, you are my Prince Charming. And I won't let you spoil our last few days together by reminding me about all the cold, harsh, logical realities, Mr. Skeptic. So there."
"I'll just hold you for a while, then, without saying a word. Will that do?"
"That would be lovely," she said.
Kasey dropped by later in the afternoon, bearing gifts of chicken soup. Zach ushered her into Bryony's room and left them to talk. As soon as he shut the door, Kasey pounced.
"All right, what's going on with you two?" she asked, flopping down on the bed. "Vivien said you had the flu but Zach was taking good care of you. What I want to know is, exactly how well is he -- uh --
caring
for you?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Bryony rolled her eyes. She was sitting up in bed, feeling much better. "Is there no privacy in this town?"
Kasey clutched at her heart, pretending Bryony's remark had mortally wounded her. "I'm you best friend," she said, tossing her blond hair. "If I can't inquire about your health, who can?"
"It's not my health you're wondering about," Bryony said. "Don't you think my relationship with Zach is a rather private matter?"
"Of course. And you don't have to say a word." Kasey pursed her lips. "I'll understand. I wouldn't want to be nosy."
Bryony burst out laughing at the utter untruthfulness of her friend's words. "Did Vivien put you up to this?" she asked.
"No . . . well, maybe," Kasey said. "She just said she was worried and would I come check on you."
"It's just a 24-hour flu bug," Bryony pointed out. "I'll be fine by tomorrow, and you won't even have to mind the shop for me."
"It's not the flu we're worried about. It's that devastatingly handsome young publisher, and you know it. We're all afraid he'll break your heart."
"Kasey! Who's 'we'? If it's anyone other than you and
Viv
, I'll kill the both of you."
Kasey gulped and hung her head like a naughty puppy expecting a whipping. "Just, you know, me and
Viv
and a few of your friends. Umm . . . Kevin Barker's mother asked me if it was true that Zach was staying here with you, and then Mr. Betz mentioned he'd seen you with a young man . . . ."
Bryony groaned and leaned weakly against her pillows. If Georgina Barker knew, the whole town would hear the gossip soon enough. Next time she went into town, everyone she met would press her for details. Who was this man, was it serious, when was the wedding -- she'd never hear the end of it.
"That's it," she said. "I'm moving to New York City, and I'm never coming back."
Kasey giggled. "You'd never do that. You love Cypress Point too much. Besides, no one means to intrude on your personal life. It's just that they care about you so much."
"I know, but it's still annoying."
"Tell me about it. Remember when we were in sophomores and I was taking antibiotics for an ear infection? And someone started the rumor that I was addicted to
diet pills
?" Kasey screwed up her face into an expression of disgust. "About twenty different adults pulled me aside that week for 'a little private chat'."
Bryony laughed, sitting up straighter in her bed. "Right, and you finally grabbed the microphone from poor old Miss Orenstein at the assembly and thanked everyone for their concern, but you'd never used diet pills in your life, your earache was gone now, and would everyone just leave you alone."
"So is that what you want me to do? Just leave you alone?"