Under Her Spell by Isabella Ashe Page B

said. "You'll work things out."
    "What about you and Kevin? You're hardly opposites."
    "That's why we took so long to get together. I always thought of him as the boy next door -- you know, we were best friends, we played together, we knew all the same people. And then . . . ." Vivien's eyes grew dreamy and distant. "All of a sudden, something changed. I started looking at him in whole new way."
    "My love potion," Bryony joked.
    "Maybe," her sister said. "I don't know why it happened. We were clowning around, hanging out, and he got all serious on me. I could just feel the air change around us. It was abruptly charged with all of this electricity. And suddenly I thought I would die if he didn't touch me."
    Bryony felt a disconcerting jolt of recognition. That was exactly what she experienced with Zach. At the same time, she was scared to death by the new sensations. She worried that she might come to need him, even to love him, and then he would leave. He would go back to the city, back to his magazine, and forget all about her. She would be fodder for his column and nothing else.
    Again, Vivien seemed to read her mind. "You have to take a chance," she said. "There's always a risk. Yes, maybe you'll get hurt. Maybe you'll regret it. But you won't regret it half as much as if you never make that leap."
    Bryony shook her head. "I don't know what you mean. Are you saying I should sleep with Zach?"
    Her sister rolled her eyes. "God, Sis, do you really think I'm talking about sex? No, I mean you should do something much, much more difficult. I think you should let yourself love him."
    Bryony blushed, feeling as if Vivien's dark green eyes were piercing her very soul. She was urging the very thing Bryony was most afraid of. Bryony looked away. When she spoke, her voice was thick with unshed tears. "I'm not sure I can."
    Vivien tore a strip of masking tape off one of the cardboard boxes, lifted the flaps, and began to sift through the contents of the box. "You'd better make up your mind. He's only staying another week."
    "I know," Bryony said. "How could I forget? I think about it every minute of every day."
     
    That night, at her desk, as she worked on the week's orders, Bryony's mind kept flashing back to the conversation with her sister. Maybe she was being too cautious. She had always thought of herself as a romantic, someone who believed love conquered all.
    Her past relationships had failed because they lacked a certain spark -- she'd told herself that the men she had dated were too dull, too tame, not challenging enough. They hadn't measured up to the princes in her fairy tales, who were bold and brave and a little arrogant.
    Now there was Zach, and he was everything she had dreamed of. The sparks were there, no doubt about it. True, they sometimes flew rather too hotly. She remembered their arguments, the silences, and their utterly different world views. But maybe those things could be overcome. With time, they could learn to appreciate each others' differences.
    There was only one problem. She had no idea how Zach felt about all this.
    If only she had some idea, she could decide what to do about her growing attraction to him. But he hadn't said a word about their kiss. All through dinner, she had waited for him to mention it, and he had studiously avoided the topic.
    Zach had kept the conversation light, though Bryony sensed he hadn't forgotten anything. The memory smoldered in his gaze when his eyes met hers. The tension in the dining room had been thick as butter.
    Now Bryony found she couldn't shake that tension. She was restless as a caged lion, longing to break free of the invisible bars that kept her from Zach. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she threw on a sweater over her thin blouse and sought comfort in the sight of the sea.
    Out on the deck in front of the house, she watched the dark surf pound the shore. There was no moon tonight, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The stars shone such a dazzling