Wedding Spell by Donna Fletcher

Author:Donna Fletcher [Fletcher, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Witches, USA Today Bestselling Author
ISBN: 9780515124828
Google: BMEOAAAACAAJ
Goodreads: 1819777
Publisher: Jove
Published: 1999-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Ali sat tucked in the corner of the couch, finishing a cup of honey-lemon tea. Supper had gone well. Conversation had been kept to the ordinary. She now needed to step beyond the mundane and take a chance, a chance that could cost her dearly.

An oak end table separated the couch and chair where Sebastian sat, his thoughts on Ali.

“It is time we talked,” he said, “and strangely enough I sense you feel the same.”

“If only he would rely more on his senses, but then, would he understand what he felt? Would he fully comprehend this connection between them, or would he seek a reasonable answer?

She nodded her agreement. It was all or nothing, she could wait no longer. “Yes, Sebastian, the time has come.”

She made it sound so final, as if their actions this night would decide their fate. And the strange thought that he might lose her filled him with sudden dread.

“Do you believe in destiny?” she asked.

His brief smile betrayed his skepticism. “Destiny is merely an accumulation of foolish or unwise decisions.”

“A sensible response.”

Sebastian accepted her compliment; sound reasoning did have its advantages.

“And what is your destiny, Sebastian?”

He smiled. “To believe in crazy witches.”

“Do you believe?”

He hesitated. “A few short weeks ago my belief system was firmly rooted. Now I find myself questioning the impossible.”

“Have you found answers?”

“I think the question should be—have I found any sensible answers?”

Ali laughed and put her empty mug on the coffee table. “Perhaps you search too hard.”

He looked directly at her. “Perhaps I don’t search hard enough. You sit here before me, a woman in her late twenties possible early thirties, yet you have no birth certificate to confirm that you were ever born. You are clearly highly educated, and yet no record of an extensive education exists. You come from a wealthy, eccentric family whose heritage dates back to the ancient Celts, and yet certain documents confirming this are unattainable. So as I asked you many times before, who are you Alisande Wyrrd?”

The truth. He wanted to hear the truth as much as she wanted him to accept the truth. The truth would decide the outcome of this spell. The truth would bring them together or separate them for all eternity.

She held her head up with pride and answered honestly. “I am a witch born of a witch. My heritage is ancient and my powers great. Can you accept this about me?”

A chill raced over him and he stood, pacing the floor in front of the couch until he stopped and his dark, troubled eyes met hers. They questioned, pleaded and loved. “You actually believe that you’re a witch?”

“I am a witch, Sebastian,” she said patiently.

How did he respond to that? How did he accept what he thought impossible? And most of all, how could he feel this passionate about a crazy woman?

“I am not crazy, Sebastian.”

He glared at her. “My thoughts are private.”

“Not now. Not when we need to understand each other. I read your thoughts clearly because I care so deeply for you.

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