Under Her Spell by Isabella Ashe

nearly hidden by trees and other foliage. "Drive to the end."
    He eased the convertible slowly down the road until they reached a cul-de-sac that served as an unofficial parking area. "Now what?" he asked.
    Bryony opened her knapsack and pulled out a knee-high pair of waterproof boots. "I brought these for you," she said. "They were my father's. You'd better put them on, or you'll be soaked."
    "What about you?"
    "I'm wearing mine already," Bryony said. Besides the rubber boots, she'd dressed in old jeans, a denim shirt, and a down-filled nylon parka. It was her birding outfit, though she hadn't worn it in years. She was glad to see Zach had taken her cue and put on comfortable, faded clothes. They were going to get wet.
    He'd realized what she was up to and looked a little ill at ease. Bryony stifled a chuckle. Despite his love of hiking, he was still -- as she had suspected -- a city boy at heart. She couldn't help but enjoy his discomfort.
    "Follow me," she said, and began to climb down the small hill leading to the lagoon's tidal flat. The water rose around her ankles as she stepped in, and she could feel the chill even through the thick rubber of her boots. The rushes and cattails rose up past her waist. She turned to make sure he was behind her. He was, a long-suffering look on his face.
    They edged carefully around the north corner of the lagoon, stepping gingerly to avoid pockets of deeper water. The day brightened incrementally as the sun stole up over the hills, casting long shining spears of light over the water. Bryony pulled the binoculars from her pack and scanned the lagoon.
    She sucked in her breath as she spotted a brown pelican, unmistakable with its stout body and huge bill. "There," she whispered, handing over the binoculars. "Do you see the pelican? At two o'clock? It's one of the first of the season. Their migration doesn't really peak until August, when we'll have two thousand or more."
    Zach's voice was hushed, too, as he replied. "Where do they all come from?"
    "Baja California and the Channel Islands. They breed there, then fly here for late spring and summer."
    "I've only seen them in books," Zach said, lowering the binoculars.
    Bryony savored the look of awe on his face. "You haven't seen anything yet. Just wait."
    Morning stillness gave way to a bustle of activity as the sun touched the lagoon. Birds awoke, stretched, and began their day. The sun warmed Bryony's cheeks and burnished her gold-red hair. She kept her promise, pointing out a dozen different bird species. "There are even more in the winter," she said. "Thousands and thousands, like a living blanket. It's the most amazing thing you ever saw."
    "I'll have to come back for it," Zach said. They were sitting on a grassy slope, surrounded by wildflowers. Delicate yellow meadow foam, bright orange California poppies, buttercups, and baby-blue-eyes turned the hillside into a riot of color.
    Bryony poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him before she answered. "Seashore Estates will be in mid-construction then. I doubt you'll be left with much to see."
    "Ah." He took a sip of the still-hot coffee. "Now I see why you brought me here. You had an ulterior motive."
    "No," Bryony said. "I brought you here this morning because I thought you would enjoy it."
    "I am enjoying it," he said. "More than I thought possible. But are you telling me that it didn't enter your head, for even one little second, that seeing all this might make me change my mind about the development deal?"
    "Certainly not. I'm sure you're not the kind of man to back down once you've formed an opinion. Even if that opinion was based on prejudice, stubbornness, and a complete lack of information."
    Zach laughed, a deep, attractive growl. "I think I'm man enough to admit when I'm wrong."
Bryony eyed him hopefully. "So you've changed your mind? You think I'm doing the right thing, trying to save this place?"
    "I think you have a good cause," Zach said. "I'm not convinced that you'll