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The Wedding Spell Page 11
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Direct and honest. He liked that about her. And she had not mentioned one word about being a witch. She was simply a woman who wanted him.
“Why?” he asked, enjoying this exchange of normal conversation.
All remained silent as the waiter discreetly approached them with a bottle of wine. He poured a sample for Sebastian, who tasted it and nodded his approval. Once he filled their glasses, he vanished.
Sebastian waited for her answer.
She tasted the red wine, approving of its rich, dry flavor with her own nod and then responded. “I am attracted to you.”
The waiter lingered a short distance away, waiting for a signal from Sebastian.
“Let’s order, then we can talk about this attraction.” He motioned to the waiter.
She ordered the pork with baked apples, and he ordered the chicken with artichokes and sun-dried tomatoes in wine sauce each offering to share a taste with the other.
“Now, where were we?” he asked.
“You were about to tell me why you find me so irresistible,” Ali said sweetly.
Irresistible. She was certainly that, and different in a way he was unable to clearly summarize. She was secure and condiment with herself and with her actions. Perhaps, too, it was that she dared to be different, dared to think magically instead of logically.
He responded candidly. “You fascinate me.”
“How so?”
“You’re like a puzzle, so many pieces that don’t seem to fit, and yet the more complex the puzzle becomes, the more eager I am to match the pieces.”
“And what do you do with all those pieces that don’t quite fit?”
He shook his head and smiled with arrogant pride. “I always make the pieces fit.”
“And how do you do that?”
“Deductive reasoning.”
Salads were placed in front of them along with warm sourdough rolls. They began to enjoy the meal and eagerly returned to the conversation.
“You believe everything can be settled through deductive reasoning?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t it? If you find a starting point and work forward or backward, you begin to establish a pattern and background. And like a puzzle, once you have all or even most of the pieces, the puzzles begin to take shape and from there it is only a matter of time before the puzzle is complete.”
“Were you this analytical as a child?” she asked with a teasing smile.
He laughed. “I was a terror.”
The idea of him being a hellion intrigued her. “Who did you terrorize?”
“Anyone who didn’t see things my way.”
“Which I take was often?”
He nodded and grinned over forgotten but happy memories. “I forever questioned in my attempt to understand. My mother blamed my father and my father took pride in my inquisitive nature.”
“Don’t you mean stubborn?” she corrected.
“That would depend on who you asked.”
“Did this reign of terror extend to your teachers?” she asked, delighted at learning all she could about him.
He cringed at the memories. “I was relentless. I demanded to know why. Always why. There was a reasonable explanation for all that existed in the world and I wanted to know. I researched and studied, then researched and studied more.”
“And your inquisitive nature landed you a position in government security?” She knew the answer. She knew much about Sebastian Wainwright, but she wanted to learn more, especially that part of himself he had yet to learn about; the part that would inevitably connect him with her.
“While in college I was approached by a division of the government that dealt with top security,” he admitted, realizing his background check would have shown his work with the government but not the exact agency, and he wasn’t about to detail classified information.
“They liked the fact that you researched so thoroughly.”
A reasonable conclusion for her to reach, he told himself. “Impressed with my talent and tenaciousness for finding answers, they offered me a position that I accepted, and that led to my present business.”
End of that discussion, she thought. He intended to supply her with only so much information, but that was all right. She knew all about his days with The Department. She wanted to know more about him.
Their meals were served quietly and graciously, and after the waiter made sure of their comfort and satisfaction, he left them to enjoy the appetizing fare.
Ali discovered she liked watching Sebastian. The simplest, most common movement he made intrigued her, though his movements were more orchestrated than common. He possessed a style and confidence that she admired. He was secure and accomplished in who he was and it showed, especially in his hands. Those long lean fingers sliced, cupped, and stroked like a man at ease and sure of his every motion.
She wondered if he possessed the same confidence in bed, though if his kisses were any indication, he had long ago mastered the art of making love.
“I warned you to behave,” he whispered. “Those sexy green eyes of yours are raging with passion.”
She sighed like a petulant child denied her favorite treat. “Won’t you satisfy my rage?”
Damn, if he didn’t want to do just that, to hell with the meal and intimate atmosphere. He wanted nothing more than to make passionate love to her for hours on end. But he needed to understand her. Understand why she claimed to be a witch.
“I’m tempted. That’s why I want to get to know you better.”
Her sigh turned to disappointment. “My need for you isn’t enough.”
“I’m looking for more than need.”
She perked up instantly, and with a seductive voice that melted over him like warm honey, she said, “Detail ‘more than need’ to me.”
He didn’t bother to slip the piece of chicken off his fork; his tongue was too busy salivating over her delicious wet mouth and that tiny pink tongue that licked suggestively at her lips.
Focus, he warned himself.
“I have had my share of affairs,” he admitted.
Yes, and I know about each one. Passing fancies, nothing more.
“They leave an empty sometimes bitter taste in one’s mouth. I decided that I wanted more from the next woman I take to my bed.”
“And what is more?’ she asked, as if not knowing his answer.
“I want the promise of a lifetime together,” he said and waited.
Her green eyes grew brilliant and pooled with tears. “You search for love.”
“Yes,” he conceded. “Don’t you?”
She blinked back her tears and nodded. “Yes, but love cannot be easily defined. And it is often evasive when tenaciously sought. Love knows no discretion. It reaches out and grabs hold of the heart and then—” She smiled and reached across the table to tap at his temple. “Reasonable deduction flies out the window.”
He returned her shrewd smile. “Sound reasoning and understanding would make for a more solid and more permanent martial foundation.”
“What about passion?” she asked and placed her arms on the edge of the table, leaning forward, eager for his answer.
She could easily intimidate, especially with those exquisite green eyes that penetrated the surface and touched within. But he was prepared. He was always prepared—well... almost always.
“Passion doesn’t last forever.”
She smiled like a patient teacher instructing a pupil who had difficulty assimilating his lessons. “You are wrong. Passion is everlasting.”
“Not possible,” he argued confidently. “It is fleeting, coming and going with emotions.”
She challenged him further. “Passion is emotions.”
“Obsessive emotions.”
“Zesty,” she contested.
He grinned, enjoying their debate. “Yet manageable when one is practical.”
Her green eyes grew brilliant with excitement in their startling color, and her smile turned softly sensual. “Then you have nev
er known true passion.”
A shiver rushed over him, sending goose bumps racing up his arms and down his spine. Damn, but she could tempt.
“A debate better left for another day,” he said avoiding a heated discussion.
Finished with their meals, their plates were removed, and coffee, tea and cognac were served along with a selection of miniature pastries and fresh fruit that simply could not be ignored.
Turning the conversation to a safer topic, he asked her about her childhood, and they were soon lost in tales of childhood memories.
“You were fearless,” he said after learning of her solitary adventures in the woods that bordered her family’s home in Ireland.
She shook her head and chose her words carefully. She had purposely avoided any mention of being a witch. She had convinced herself that she would attempt this evening out with him... as a mortal. She did not wish to lose her own unique identity, only to better understand him, so he may eventually better understand her. A starting point as he would recommend... a place to proceed from.
“Not really. I possessed a strong sense of myself.”
He had no idea what made him say it. He wasn’t even thinking about his disastrous adventure in the woods. Perhaps it was because he was recently reminded of the incident, or perhaps he wished to witness her response.
“When I was very young I thought I saw a wood fairy. But my father made me understand it was my fear and overactive imagination that made me think that I actually saw a fairy.”
“How sad for you,” she said with genuine sorrow.
“How so?” he asked, touched by the concern in her voice.
Ali could no more deny the existence of fairies than she could deny herself a witch. Fairies did wonderful work and were the most loving and giving creatures she had ever met. And it was incomprehensible to think a father would deny a child the privilege of meeting one.
“To believe in fairies takes courage; to see a fairy is a privilege. Why would your father deny you such a wonderful experience?”
Sebastian immediately defended his father. “He spared me the embarrassment of telling a tale that people would find amusing.”
Ali had long ago grown accustomed to mortal peculiarities, particularly to their logical natures. If they would be illogical for only a moment, they would discover such wonders.
“I believe in fairies.”
He smiled. “Somehow I thought you would.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Eccentric.”
She leaned forward and whispered, “What if I told you there was a fairy sitting on your left shoulder this very moment?”
Sebastian turned his head to look.
“You do believe,” she said with excitement and clap of her hands.
He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I fell for that trick.”
“It’s no trick. If you did not believe, you would not have looked. There is hope for you yet.”
He studied her with intense eyes for a long moment and said, “I don’t believe in fairies.”
She shook her head, her eyes registering her sadness. She understood what he was telling her. He not only didn’t believe in fairies. He didn’t believe in witches. What was she to do?
They drove home in silence, both understanding that their relationship was now at an impasse. He was a practical mortal. She was a witch. Whatever would become of them?
Sebastian helped her out of the car after coming to a stop at her front door. Logic would have her inviting him in for a cup of coffee, but somehow he doubted she would end their evening on such a logical note.
She stood beside him at the bottom of the steps to the front porch and turned her head to look out over the surrounding grounds. The warm night air thick with the scent of honeysuckle drifted over them and thousands of stars glittered like diamonds in the dark night sky.
Ali raised her hand to stroke his cheek, so warm and soft and yet so hard and unyielding in the set of his jaw. She balanced herself on her toes to reach his mouth and kissed him lightly on the lips. A fleeting kiss, followed by another and another until she softly whispered, “Come to the woods with me and meet the fairies.”
He realized she was asking him to believe in more than fairies, and he wasn’t sure he could make such an impractical commitment. What would people think? He, the CEO of the largest security firm in Washington, D.C., venturing into the woods after midnight in search of mythical creatures.
“Another time,” he whispered, not wanting to completely deny her request, just place it on hold for a while.
She nodded, though her eyes spoke her disappointment.
He kissed her then, tenderly, lovingly, and their arms wrapped around each other. She clung to him and he to her, holding on tightly, not wanting to let go, not wanting to surrender this night.
They parted reluctantly and without a word being spoken and Ali watched him drive off, fearing as only a mortal could that she might never see him again.
Chapter Fourteen
“I am no good at these mortal games,” Ali said and plopped herself on the chaise lounge next to the one her aunt occupied near the indoor pool.
Sydney reluctantly closed the mystery book she was reading after tucking the bookmark inside and placed the book on the table beside her. She then turned her full attention on her disgruntled niece. “A problem with your date last night?”
Ali nodded, slipping out of the terry beach robe she wore and throwing it over the bottom of the chaise. Needing the warm healing rays of the sun on her skin, she wore the barest of bikinis.
“That, my dear young lady, is indecent,” her aunt scolded with a firmness that made Ali feel contrite.
“I know. I didn’t buy it with the intention of anyone but myself seeing it.”
“Make certain that you don’t let anyone see you in it,” her aunt reprimanded, “especially Sebastian. One look at you in that scrap of nothingness, and he would lose what little sense he has left.”
“Ali smiled. “Really, you think so?”
Sydney shook a warning finger at her. “You cast a serious spell, Alisande Wyrrd, and there will be no interfering with the results.
Ali’s smile instantly faded. “I am fully aware of my actions.”
Sydney’s voice softened. “Why did you choose the magical love spell?”
Honesty was a virtue Ali long respected in others and herself, so she spoke truthfully and from her heart. “I feel as if I have waited forever for that special man, mortal or witch. And when my powers began to diminish, I realized a serious choice had to be made. Mate briefly, or mate forever. I sensed that briefly would not fulfill me, so I decided to make a choice.”
“A serious choice,” Sydney reminded. “You do understand that Sebastian must want this union of his own free choice. If you mate without his full acceptance, the spell will fade and consequences will result. It will take many, many years to heal your heart. That is why the spell is seldom cast without first discussing it with an elder.”
“I was never one to follow rules,” Ali said with a smile that betrayed her concern.
“Our rules protect us, Alisande, and you have seriously failed to consider the second more profound part of the spell. Do you doubt he will be able to fulfill it?”
Ali sighed with frustration. “I felt so confident, so sure of myself and my abilities to convince him.”
“He is too practical by nature. He cannot believe in the unbelievable. And if he cannot believe, then...” Sydney shook her head. She couldn’t speak the words, couldn’t let herself tell her niece that the man she was falling in love with would be lost to her forever.
“I was aware of the consequences when I cast the spell.” Ali laughed lightly, though her heart felt heavy. “I was not aware of his stubborn practical pride.”
“I assume his practical pride surfaced last night?”
A sigh rushed past Ali’s lips, and she slowly shook her head. “The evening started so wonderfully.
We talked, teased, shared stories, and learned much about each other.”
“The way lovers should,” Sydney encouraged.
“Mortal lovers.”
Sydney nodded her understanding.
“He chose a perfect romantic setting, looked perfectly appealing, smelled exquisitely sexy, and sounded perfectly mortal.”
“That is how you were to sound in return. What happened?”
“He tested me.”
“And you tested back,” Sydney said, knowing her niece all too well.
Ali nodded. “I thought if I could just get him to open his eyes and truly see, he would understand—”
“You?” Sydney finished.
One single tear was followed by another down Ali’s cheek. I want him to know me.”
Sydney reached out and grasped Ali’s hand, squeezing it. “You want him to believe you.”
Ali wiped at her tears with her hand and Sydney reached for the box of tissues on the table beside her, offering one to Ali.
“He loves you, you know,” Sydney said, sensing her niece needed to have her suspicions confirmed.
“Thank you for reassuring me,” Ali said, blotting at her wet cheeks. “Strangely enough I never really doubted the fact that he would love me. I think that is what made me cast the spell in the first place. When I entered his office and my eyes met his, I instantly recognized the passion that existed between us; a passion not only born of pleasure but of love. I think that is what made me cast the special spell.”
“Then you had not planned on using that particular spell.”
Ali shook her head. “Honestly, no. It wasn’t until I stood beside him and began my chant that I realized no other spell would do. I made my choice then and there.”
“So in no way, you looked briefly before you leaped,” Sydney said with a laugh and an earnest understanding.
“Very briefly, though I leaped with no regret.”
“They you have no choice but to pursue your decision with your usual tenacious verve.”
“True,” Ali admitted with confidence that had been briefly lost, but which her aunt had so generously helped to restore. “I’m just not sure which route to take. Playing at being mortal was fun for the moment, but I found it was hard to quell my audacious nature.”