. . .
She wasn't looking at him. Her lips curved into a sweetly innocent smile of delight as she pointed to the stars. "Do you see there?" she asked. "That constellation to the right? That's Aries, my sign. What's yours?"
Zach slammed on his mental brakes. His lip twisted in disgust at himself. He'd almost forgotten why he was here, who Bryony was. She might have a pretty face -- and a body that haunted his dreams -- but her mind was clearly inferior. No doubt she read her horoscope every morning and didn't make a move without consulting an astrologer. He'd met her type before.
Bryony turned to Zach and her smile faded. He was watching her with barely concealed contempt. Dismay swept over her as she puzzled the sudden change. She frowned, thinking of her last words. She'd been caught up in the joy of the beach at night, remembering how her father had taught her to identify the constellations. She'd asked his sign . . . . Oh, of course. The editor of the Skeptical Observer would harbor nothing but disdain for astrology.
"Let me guess," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "You don't even know what sign you are, because it's all nonsense."
"It certainly is." Zach's tone was more than a little self-righteous. "Don't tell me you believe in that ridiculous voodoo science."
"No, but I like to read my horoscope anyway," Bryony said. "Not because it means anything, but because it's entertaining. It can even be fun. However, I'm sure that's not a concept you scientific types are familiar with."
"Obviously not. We 'scientific types' wouldn't dream of having fun."
Bryony caught the undercurrent of humor in his voice and softened a little. "I only mean that you could try a little pretending once in a while. You don't have to believe in something wholeheartedly to enjoy it. That applies to astrology, love potions, and just about everything else in life. The key is knowing where to draw the line."
"That's exactly the problem," Zach said. "There are so many foolish people out there who don't know where, or how, to draw that line. They'll believe in any theory -- no matter how scatterbrained -- and let it rule their lives."
"So you've become their self-appointed guardian. How kind."
"It's not like that," he said. "If they had all the facts --"
"They would do exactly what they're doing now, for the most part."
"You're right," Zach said, with a sigh. "But I keep trying."
"But you go after the wrong people, sometimes," Bryony said. "Expose the greedy cult leaders, by all means. Stop the self-styled 'doctors' who claim to have a cure for cancer. Just don't ridicule those of us who are harmless, who are trying to fill people's need for a little fantasy."
To her surprise, Zach nodded. "You have a good point. But all those harmless little fantasies add up."
Bryony tilted her head so she could gaze straight up into his face. She tried to ignore the electricity of his nearness. "Am I such a threat to scientific progress?" she asked.
"No," Zach said. "I don't think you are."
His eyes played over her lips, and for an instant Bryony thought he might try to kiss her. She was both thrilled and frightened by the prospect. Her fear won out, and she took a quick step back before she could change her mind. "I think we should go in," she said, a little huskily, and the spell was broken.
Inside the house, the heated air enveloped her and thawed her chilled fingers. She let Zach lift his coat from her shoulders and felt a brief stab of regret at losing its weight and its warmth. It had almost felt like having his arms around her. "Well," she said, trying to ease the awkward moment. "Is there anything you need? Pillows? Extra blankets?"
"Thank you, no. Your sister has made sure I'm very comfortable."
"Then I suppose this is goodnight."
"Goodnight," Zach said. If he had hoped to spend more time with her, he didn't let on.
Bryony lingered a moment longer, wanting to say more. Zach raised an inquiring eyebrow and flashed the infuriating
She wasn't looking at him. Her lips curved into a sweetly innocent smile of delight as she pointed to the stars. "Do you see there?" she asked. "That constellation to the right? That's Aries, my sign. What's yours?"
Zach slammed on his mental brakes. His lip twisted in disgust at himself. He'd almost forgotten why he was here, who Bryony was. She might have a pretty face -- and a body that haunted his dreams -- but her mind was clearly inferior. No doubt she read her horoscope every morning and didn't make a move without consulting an astrologer. He'd met her type before.
Bryony turned to Zach and her smile faded. He was watching her with barely concealed contempt. Dismay swept over her as she puzzled the sudden change. She frowned, thinking of her last words. She'd been caught up in the joy of the beach at night, remembering how her father had taught her to identify the constellations. She'd asked his sign . . . . Oh, of course. The editor of the Skeptical Observer would harbor nothing but disdain for astrology.
"Let me guess," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. "You don't even know what sign you are, because it's all nonsense."
"It certainly is." Zach's tone was more than a little self-righteous. "Don't tell me you believe in that ridiculous voodoo science."
"No, but I like to read my horoscope anyway," Bryony said. "Not because it means anything, but because it's entertaining. It can even be fun. However, I'm sure that's not a concept you scientific types are familiar with."
"Obviously not. We 'scientific types' wouldn't dream of having fun."
Bryony caught the undercurrent of humor in his voice and softened a little. "I only mean that you could try a little pretending once in a while. You don't have to believe in something wholeheartedly to enjoy it. That applies to astrology, love potions, and just about everything else in life. The key is knowing where to draw the line."
"That's exactly the problem," Zach said. "There are so many foolish people out there who don't know where, or how, to draw that line. They'll believe in any theory -- no matter how scatterbrained -- and let it rule their lives."
"So you've become their self-appointed guardian. How kind."
"It's not like that," he said. "If they had all the facts --"
"They would do exactly what they're doing now, for the most part."
"You're right," Zach said, with a sigh. "But I keep trying."
"But you go after the wrong people, sometimes," Bryony said. "Expose the greedy cult leaders, by all means. Stop the self-styled 'doctors' who claim to have a cure for cancer. Just don't ridicule those of us who are harmless, who are trying to fill people's need for a little fantasy."
To her surprise, Zach nodded. "You have a good point. But all those harmless little fantasies add up."
Bryony tilted her head so she could gaze straight up into his face. She tried to ignore the electricity of his nearness. "Am I such a threat to scientific progress?" she asked.
"No," Zach said. "I don't think you are."
His eyes played over her lips, and for an instant Bryony thought he might try to kiss her. She was both thrilled and frightened by the prospect. Her fear won out, and she took a quick step back before she could change her mind. "I think we should go in," she said, a little huskily, and the spell was broken.
Inside the house, the heated air enveloped her and thawed her chilled fingers. She let Zach lift his coat from her shoulders and felt a brief stab of regret at losing its weight and its warmth. It had almost felt like having his arms around her. "Well," she said, trying to ease the awkward moment. "Is there anything you need? Pillows? Extra blankets?"
"Thank you, no. Your sister has made sure I'm very comfortable."
"Then I suppose this is goodnight."
"Goodnight," Zach said. If he had hoped to spend more time with her, he didn't let on.
Bryony lingered a moment longer, wanting to say more. Zach raised an inquiring eyebrow and flashed the infuriating
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