CHAPTER TWO

Saying it's true
It's not what it seems
Leave your broken windows open
And in the light just streams
And you get a head
A head full of dreams
You can see the change you want to
Be what you want to be

A Head Full of Dreams - Coldplay

"Enzo, this is one of my nieces. Bonnie. She's the journalist. Bonnie, this is Enzo St. John. I think you were watching him on the morning news show earlier today, weren't you?"

Lucy's question hung in the air, but Bonnie didn't answer. Enzo shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the round table. He was used to fans being tongue-tied in his presence, but Bonnie Bennett didn't look like the rabid fan type. Plus, she was staring at him as if he'd grown a horn in the center of his forehead. He brushed back his hair, casually letting his fingers touch the skin there, just to be sure.

"Hi, Bonnie," he said, and held out his hand. In the past he'd found that polite, social niceties often put people at ease.

Her gaze dropped from his face to his hand. She still looked panicked, but she responded automatically. "Mr. St. John. What a pleasure." Her attention shifted to her aunt. "You didn't mention company for dinner. I think there's a roast, but it's not defrosted. I could put it in the microwave and—"

"All taken care of," Lucy said, and patted the empty chair next to hers. "Get yourself something to drink and join us. Enzo and I were just catching up on old times. He has some wonderful stories. I'm sure you'll be interested in them."

Bonnie didn't respond right away. Her gaze settled back on his. Enzo read concern in her eyes and something that looked like apprehension. He held in a sigh. No doubt Lucy had been telling tales out of school again. The older woman loved to brag about his exploits. Okay, he was willing to admit that there had been a time when everything they said about him was true, but that was long ago. These days his life was practically boring. At least when it came to his conquests with women.

Bonnie moved to the refrigerator. "Would either of you like anything?"

"I'm fine, dear," Lucy said.

"Me, too." Enzo motioned to the bottle of beer in front of him.

Bonnie gave him a tight smile, then collected a diet soda for herself. She walked back to the table.

Enzo told himself it wasn't polite to stare, but Ms. Bonnie Bennett was very easy on the eyes. Short, at least five-two or -three, slender with big green eyes and short wavy brown hair tumbled to the back of her neck. She had a quite a bit of curves on her, she was woman enough to get his blood pumping.

If he had a type, she would be it. Fortunately he didn't have one, nor was he looking for anyone to keep him company during his brief visit to Mystic Falls.

"I'm trying to convince Enzo to stay with us while he's here," Lucy said, picking up the conversation where they'd left it when Bonnie had arrived home. "I've explained there's plenty of room and he won't be any trouble at all. What do you think?"

Bonnie was staring at him again. Whatever the reason for her attention, he found he liked it. She blinked twice, then looked at her aunt. "What? Oh, sorry. I was—" She took a sip of her soda. "It's just I've been staring at your picture all day. I can't believe you're sitting here in my kitchen."

Her words hung in the room like dust motes floating on a sunny afternoon. The silence lengthened. Bonnie sucked in a breath and flushed, as if she'd just realized what she'd said.

"That came out wrong," she said quickly.

"Not to me it didn't." Enzo winked. "The fan club can always use a new member. Did I mention I often take care of initiation myself?"

He was teasing…for the most part. Bonnie's flush deepened. Maybe the little town of Mystic Falls would be more interesting than he'd first thought.

He glanced over and saw Lucy's speculative gaze. Ah, so his friend was thinking about a little matchmaking. He drank his beer, unconcerned by her efforts. He'd dealt with much tougher than her in the past.

Bonnie cleared her throat. "Now you've seen me at my worst, or close to it. I don't usually make a habit of putting my foot in my mouth. What I meant was I'm a reporter with Whitmore Today magazine. The writer who was going to follow you around for the next couple of weeks and write the article won't be able to do it. Our editor assigned me this morning. I've been busy doing research."

A reporter. Assigned to him. He liked that. "Should be fun."

"Yes, well, I left a message at your hotel explaining the situation."

"I've been with Lucy most of the day," he said. "I'll be sure to listen most attentively when I get back to my room."

"You do that. There'll be a quiz in the morning."

She smiled then. A real smile without thought or purpose. Her face lit up, her eyes sparkled and he found himself leaning toward her, already planning what he could do to make her smile again.

Bonnie reached for her briefcase and unzipped the leather, unconstructed bag. "I believe we have an appointment at the gem exhibit at nine-thirty in the morning. Does that still work for you?"

In more ways than you know, he thought, but only said, "Yes."

"Good." She made a notation in her date book. "It will take me a couple of days to get up to speed. I have Caroline's research, of course, but I want to do some of my own. I'll try not to be a pain with all my questions."

"My life is an open book," he said.

Lucy coughed. "Really, Enzo? Oh, good. I was afraid there were some stories you wouldn't want me telling, but with your life being so accessible and all…" She turned to her niece. "Later I'll tell you about the time a tribal elder's daughter paid him to teach her how to please her husband. It seems that there was a problem with—"

Enzo groaned. "Lucy, have you no shame? That is private."

"I thought you were accessible. I thought you wanted to share yourself with the people."

"Not that much of myself. There are some things Bonnie should learn on her own."

Bonnie raised her eyebrows. "How kind of you to say that, but don't worry. I'm not interested in any lessons on pleasing the men in my life."

"They're all satisfied?"

"Completely."

In her tailored slacks and linen jacket, she looked professional and confident. He wondered if Lucy saw the slight tremor in her niece's hand as she picked up her can of soda. Bonnie was lying through her teeth. Which either meant she wasn't pleasing her man, or there wasn't a man to please. He found himself wanting it to be the latter.

Lucy chuckled. "I'm sorry, Bonnie. I'm giving you completely the wrong idea about Enzo. It's true that he can be a charmer when he wants to be, but for the most part he's a decent and kind man."

Enzo winced. "I thought you were my friend."

"I am."

"You're talking about me as if I were the family dog."

Bonnie leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. "So you don't want to be thought of as decent and kind? Secretly you long to be—" She pressed her lips together.

Indecent. His brain filled in the word and he shifted in his chair. What was going on between himself and Bonnie? This didn't make sense. The banter was fine—he enjoyed people who were fun and funny. But the sexual innuendo wasn't his style. Too obvious. Was it the lack of female companionship in his life, or was it something else? Something about Bonnie specifically?

Before he could analyze the situation, the front door opened and a female voice called out a greeting.

"That's Sarah," Lucy said, rising to her feet. "My other niece. She's the baby of the family."

"That's hardly fair," Bonnie protested. "She's younger by all of six months. You make her sound like she's still a teenager."

"Or that you're an old woman," Lucy teased.

"Thanks."

A young woman entered the kitchen. Her gaze settled on Enzo. "I saw you on television this morning," she said and grinned. Her long black hair highlighted her large brown eyes. Where Bonnie was short and curvy, Sarah was a good four or five inches taller and slimmer.

A nice enough young woman, Enzo thought as they were introduced, but not intriguing. Not like her sister.

"So you're a famous explorer," Sarah said as she reached for a pitcher of iced tea and poured herself a glass. Heart-shaped earrings glinted at her earlobes.

"That would be me. Larger than life."

Sarah settled next to him and sighed. "Do women gush when they meet you?"

"Only if they're incredibly discerning." He glanced up and caught Bonnie's smile.

"Are you married?" Sarah asked.

"Sarah!" Bonnie frowned at her sister. "Don't be personal."

"Why not? Well, are you?"

"You proposing?"

Sarah sipped her tea, apparently unruffled by the conversation. "No. I'm involved with someone. But Bonnie is single."

Enzo shot her a glance. So there wasn't a man in her life. Funny how that piece of information was suddenly fascinating.

"Thanks for sharing that particular detail," Bonnie said and rose to her feet. Her aunt stood by an electric frying pan sitting on the counter. "Can I help?" she asked.

"I'm doing fine. I'm cooking Enzo's favorite for dinner," she said.

Bonnie glanced in the pan, then over at him. "Pot roast?"

"Yup. You'd be amazed how hard that is to find in some places."

"I'll bet."

"There's chocolate cake and ice cream for dessert," Lucy added. "Both you girls will be staying for dinner."

It wasn't a question. The sisters exchanged knowing looks, and Enzo was pleased that he wasn't the only one Lucy bossed around.

"You don't have to if you have other plans. Although I would very much like the company." The latter comment he addressed to Bonnie.

"Oh, we aren't busy," Sarah said. "I'm only seeing Matt and I can call him and cancel."

"Matt would be your young man?" he asked.

"Uh-huh. We're engaged to be married." She held out her left hand. A thin gold band encircled her ring finger. The diamond set there was so small it looked like a grain of sand.

"It's lovely," he told her.

She beamed.

Sarah started asking him more questions. He answered automatically, most of his attention focused on her sister. Bonnie didn't rejoin them at the table. Instead she moved around the kitchen, doing odds and ends that to his mind looked like busywork. Almost as if she was staying as far away from him as possible. Did he make her nervous?

There was something between them, he thought. Some kind of a connection. He knew there were people who would dismiss a feeling that they'd met someone before. He didn't. He'd traveled too much and seen too many things he couldn't explain to overlook the obvious.

When he looked at Bonnie there was heat and desire, but there was also something else. An intangible he couldn't explain but that he wouldn't ignore, either. He wanted to get to know her better. At least circumstances were conspiring to assist him in his quest. If she was going to be writing about him, she could hardly spend the three weeks he was in town avoiding him.

She turned and opened a drawer. As she choose forks and knives, one fell to the floor. She knelt down to pick it up. The movement prickled at the back of his mind. As if he'd seen her kneel before. But when he probed his mind, the image that appeared to him was of Bonnie completely naked, kneeling on a bed of straw.

Not that he was complaining, but where on earth had that thought come from? He swore silently and forced himself to pay attention to Sarah and her list of questions. Thank God he was sitting down and no one could see the obvious and rapid physical response to his vision. Clearly he'd been without a woman for too long. He'd outgrown the appeal of a bed partner in every port, but he was still a man who had needs. At some point in time he was going to have to do something about them.

Sarah stopped her bombardment long enough to get up and fix a salad. Bonnie walked over to the table and began setting it.

"Pot roast, vegetables, mashed potatoes and salad," she said. "Not very exotic fair. Are you sure you wouldn't like me to run to the gourmet store and grab a bottle of chocolate-covered ants or something. Just so you'll feel at home?"

Her voice was low and teasing. She stood close enough that he could inhale the scent of her. "I think I can handle this."

He wasn't talking about the food, but did she know that?

"If you're sure," she said and picked up his empty bottle of beer. "I'll get you another one."

Sarah sliced tomatoes into the bowl of lettuce and cut-up vegetables. She grinned at him. "So when was the last time you had three women waiting on you?"

He thought for a second. "It's been a couple of months. I was staying—"

Small bits of radish hit him in the face.

"Hey!" He looked up and saw Bonnie prepared to launch another assault.

"That was an incorrect answer," she told him. "You should try again."

He eyed the piece of radish. "Lucy, you're not protecting me from these bloodthirsty nieces of yours."

"You were just bragging how you can handle things. So you're on your own."

"I'm seriously outnumbered."

Bonnie tossed him another piece of radish. This one he caught and popped in his mouth.

"No one here is impressed," she informed him, her eyes bright with laughter.

The teasing continued throughout the preparation of the meal. Enzo enjoyed watching the three women work together. They moved with an easy grace that told him they did this often. Their banter reminded him that on occasion his chosen life could be very solitary. Sure he loved what he did, but his lifestyle didn't allow for a home of his own, or many intimate connections. He had lots of acquaintances, but few friends.

He tried to distance himself from the situation, to observe instead of participate, but the trick didn't work this time. He kept finding himself pulled into the conversation. The sense of family was strong and he was the odd person out. As the three women joined him and began dishing up food, he realized he was the only man at the table. He liked that in a group.

When everything was ready, Sarah plopped herself next to him and smiled. "I have a ton more questions."

Bonnie took the seat opposite his, while Lucy was next to her. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know if I can answer anything without first getting an agreement that everything we discuss here is off the record."

There was a stunned moment of surprise followed by a burst of laughter. Both women looked at Bonnie, who raised her hands in the air. "Fine. I won't take notes, record the conversation or make any attempt to retain it in my brain. I'm sure that important secrets will be shared here tonight, but the public will just have to stay uninformed."

"So how long are you in town?" Sarah asked.

"Three weeks."

"Where were you before you got here?"

"South America. I was making arrangements to ship the gems. Before that I was in India."

Bonnie passed him the bowl of mashed potatoes. As he took it from her, she shrugged. "You'll have to forgive her. Sarah works with preschool children. She doesn't get out much."

Sarah gave her sister a mock glare. "Oh, and you've traveled the world yourself. I know you have a lot of questions, too. You're just pretending to be sophisticated."

Enzo leaned toward Bonnie. "It's working," he said in a low voice.

Her green eyes flickered with an emotion he couldn't quite register, then she smiled and looked away.

"What do you usually look for?" Sarah asked as he finished serving himself and passed on the mashed potatoes. "Bones and stuff?"

"I'm not that disciplined," he admitted. "I know it's important to study the details of life in lost civilizations, but I don't have the interest. I want to learn about the unusual. The mystical and unbelievable."

Sarah frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Magic. Objects that cast spells or connect the wearer to whatever gods that society worshiped."

Bonnie put some salad on her plate and gave him an innocent smile. "Remember that Indiana Jones movie, Sarah? The one where they were looking for the Holy Grail—the cup Christ is said to have used at the Last Supper. Enzo looks for stuff like that."

Enzo wasn't fooled. Bonnie might have just been assigned the story, but she would have spent the day doing research. She had to know that he loathed being compared to that fictional movie character Indiana Jones. There was no way he could compete with that kind of hero and come out anything but second best. Tweaking the tiger's tail, he thought. She obviously wasn't a pushover. He liked that in a woman.

Sarah stared at him wide-eyed. "Really? So you're interested in legends?"

"All kinds. Old stories, myths about the past."

"Family legends?"

There was something about the way she asked the question. Bonnie focused on her sister. "Mr. St. John doesn't want to hear about that," she said, her expression tight. "It wouldn't be interesting."

A mystery, he thought as he glanced from sister to sister.

"Just because it didn't work for you doesn't mean it's not real," Sarah said. "We have a family legend. The Bennetts do anyway. That's the family on our mother's side."

"Sarah, I don't think—" Bonnie began, but her sister waved her off.

"Ignore her," Sarah said. "She's a cynic when it comes to stuff like this."

"I'm intrigued," Enzo admitted. As much with the idea of a family legend as with the mystery as to why Bonnie didn't want him to hear it.

"The story is that several hundred years ago an old witch was being chased by some drunken men. They were throwing stones and yelling at her and she feared for her life." Sarah waved her hands as she talked, providing animation for the tale.

He spared a glance for Bonnie. She stared at her plate as if it had suddenly started forming signs and symbols in the mashed potatoes.

"A young woman heard the commotion," Sarah continued. "She lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of town. I think she was being shunned or something but no one knows for sure. Anyway, she invited the old woman in and protected her from the men. In return the woman gave her a magic nightgown."

"Really?"

Sarah's humor faded. "I'm not making this up."

"I don't doubt you. It's just clothing isn't commonly used to carry magic. It doesn't age well, is easily torn or destroyed. But it's not unheard of. What's the magic?"

"This is the good part. Every woman in the family is supposed to wear the nightgown on the night of her twenty-fifth birthday. If she does, she'll dream about the man she's going to marry. He's her destiny and as long as she marries him, they'll live a long and happy life together."

"I see." Interesting story. He'd heard several like it before in different forms. It was a common theme. Related stories were the idea of sleeping with a piece of wedding cake under the pillow, or the stories about Saint Lucy of Syracuse.

"Any punishment for not sleeping in the nightgown?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Aunt Lucy? You're the one who knows the most about it."

Lucy shrugged. "There have been rumors of unhappy marriages when the woman didn't pay attention to her dream and married the wrong man, but I don't think there's a penalty for not wearing the nightgown."

"I'd like to see the nightgown," he said.

"Is that really necessary?" Bonnie asked. "It's just a nightgown. I mean you've probably seen a dozen just like it."

"Ignore her," Lucy said, rising to her feet. "She's crabby because the legend let her down."

More intrigued because Bonnie was obviously hiding something, Enzo leaned toward her. "What don't you want me to know?"

"Nothing." But her dark gaze avoided his. "It's just a story. It doesn't mean anything."

"It means something to your sister."

"Sarah has always been the dreamer in the family."

"Oh, and you're the practical one?"

This time she looked directly at him. "Absolutely. I only believe in things I can prove."

"Not magic?"

"Magic is skillful sleight of hand at best, smoke and mirrors at worst."

Before he could answer, Sarah returned to the kitchen. She handed him a soft cotton-and-lace nightgown. The fabric was old, but it didn't have the look or feel of something from a couple hundred years ago. He fingered the lace. Sometimes objects spoke to him. Not in words, but in images or sensations. A prickling along the back of his neck or a—She stretched out on the straw and reached up for him. Her eyes were bright with passion, her lips wet from his kisses. Slowly, so neither of them could doubt his intent, he knelt beside her and placed one hand on the inside of her knee. Inch by inch he drew his hand up toward the most secret part of her. The nightgown offered only token resistance, tightening slightly before sliding out of the way.

As quickly as it had appeared, the image faded, leaving Enzo feeling aroused and slightly disconcerted. He hadn't really seen much of the woman's face. Just her mouth. But he'd formed an impression of her, one strong enough to identify her.

Bonnie.

"What do you think?" Lucy asked, her gaze far too knowing.

He hoped his expression didn't give anything away. He cleared his throat before speaking. "It's antique enough to pass muster in a vintage clothing shop, but this isn't more than fifty or sixty years old."

Sarah's mouth drooped with disappointment.

"Hey, that doesn't mean the magic won't work," he told her. "Who wears it next?"

"I do," Sarah said, then raised her eyebrows. "Of course my birthday isn't for about six months. However, if you want to talk about a recent experience, ask Bonnie. She wore it last night."

"Really?"

Bonnie flushed slightly. "It was my birthday yesterday. Big deal. I wore it. Nothing happened."

He studied her, the smooth skin, the high cheekbones and firm set of her chin. She was lying, but about what?

"No dreams at all?" he asked.

"None worth mentioning."

"Maybe you should let us be the judge of that. After all, if you're so interested in my story, maybe you should share yours with me. Just to be fair." As he said the words, the image of her in the nightgown popped back into his head. No way, he told himself. It hadn't been him. He wasn't anyone's idea of destiny. The fates were smart enough to know that.

A timer dinged on the stove. Bonnie rose to her feet. "Saved by the bell, and I mean that literally. The cobbler is ready. Why don't the three of you go on into the living room. I'll serve the dessert and bring it to you."

"Ah, Bonnie, you're no fun at all," Sarah complained.

"I know. It's my lot in life."

"Don't worry," Lucy said as she linked arms with him. "We can use the time to convince Enzo to stay here instead of at some boring hotel. What do you think?"

Sarah clapped her hands together. "That would be great! Say yes, Enzo. I swear I won't bug you every minute with questions."

"Just every other minute," Bonnie muttered.

Sarah grinned. "Actually, she's telling the truth, but would that be too awful?"

"Not at all," Enzo said.

He was tempted. He would have accepted the gracious invitation except for one thing. Bonnie. Something about her called to him. He could still picture her in the nightgown and he was hard with wanting. If anything happened between them, he didn't want to worry about upsetting Lucy by taking advantage of her hospitality and therefore be unable to make love with Bonnie.

Talk about an ulterior motive, he told himself. If Lucy knew what he was thinking, she would want him neutered for sure.

Sarah took the nightgown from him and folded it. "We're supposed to wash it by hand using water from the first rain after the first full moon following the wearer's birthday. I've marked the full moon on my calendar. I don't want to forget. Bonnie might not believe, but I'm determined to make sure the legend happens to me."

Sarah stood up and caught Bonnie staring after her sister with an incredible look of sadness on her face. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but this wasn't the time, and even if it was, he didn't have the right. He was just a guest in the house. Of course there was the detail of the article Bonnie wanted to write. She was going to spend the next three weeks chasing after him, and if she played her cards right, he just might let her catch him.

AN: Thanks for all the feedback guys, sorry it took a while to get the second chapter out, I started my new job last week and got very busy. Next chapter Bonnie will be interviewing Enzo.

Also with Matt being Sarah's fiance, who do you guys think should be her dream future husband?