Free The Heiress and the Sheriff by Stella Bagwell

superstitious.”
    She found the courage to glance at him and was surprised that he wasn’t looking at her as though he’d like to slap her in irons. “I’ve already learned that. She predicts I’m going to learn something about myself while I’m here,” she told him, then asked, “Sugar or cream?”
    â€œNo. Straight.”
    She handed the mug to him, and their eyes met. Electric excitement raced down Gabrielle’s spine. “Rosita also said I would know you before I left here.”
    One of his brows arched with mocking humor, but inside he felt an odd sort of chill, a sensation closely akin to fear. Which didn’t make sense. Wyatt didn’t fear anything. He’d endured and survived eighteen years of hell with his father. Nothing could be worse.
    â€œRosita is always making predictions.”
    â€œDo they ever come true?”
    He shrugged. “Sometimes she makes a lucky guess.”
    She carefully studied the closed expression on his face. “Then you don’t believe she’s psychic?”
    â€œI believe Rosita is a wise old woman who makes her deductions with her eyes and her ears.”
    Gabrielle was inclined to agree with him. Yet she couldn’t dismiss the fact that Rosita had also warned Maggie of a striking serpent.
    Turning her attention back to the tray, Gabrielle tilted a pitcher of cream over her mug until the coffee was the color of caramel. “It’s odd, isn’t it, that I don’t know what my house or apartment looks like or who my family is, but I instinctively know I like cream in my coffee.”
    â€œMatthew says amnesia is a tricky thing.” Dammit, now he was halfway admitting she really might have amnesia. What else was he going to be doing before he left here? he wondered crossly.
    She looked up at him. “Then you do believe I have amnesia?”
    There was such a hopeful, eager look in her eyes that he felt his resistance close to crumbling. “I’m not believing anything yet. Either one way or the other.”
    Her shoulders visibly sagged with disappointment. “Why did you come here tonight? Mary Ellen mentioned you had some business to discuss with me.”
    He leaned toward her and picked up a slice of carrot cake from the wooden tray. “I do.”
    She waited while he took a bite of the sweet and swallowed it. If he had any news to give her, he was certainly taking his time about telling her. But then, she’d already come to the conclusion that Wyatt Grayhawk did things his own way and at his own speed.
    â€œI’ve got your home address. Or at least the one you gave the car rental agency.”
    Her mouth fell open and she quickly plunked her mugdown on the coffee table. “My address! Why are you just now telling me? Where is it? Have you located anyone there?”
    Her questions had a frantic edge to them, and Wyatt wondered if it was from fear of exposure or real eagerness to find her past. He wished he knew.
    â€œIt’s somewhere in the Los Angeles area. The only thing I’ve managed to get on the telephone is a recording on your answering machine.”
    â€œWhat does it say?”
    â€œThe normal thing. That you’re away from the phone and to leave a message.”
    â€œOh. Well, that hardly gives you anything to go on.”
    â€œOn the contrary. It tells me more than you think.”
    â€œLike what?”
    Hope was back in her voice. Wyatt tried to ignore it. “Namely that you live alone.”
    â€œHow can you be sure? I might have a roommate. Or a lover.”
    Wyatt bit into the rich, spicy cake while he pondered Gabrielle’s remark. Maybe being a virgin was something a woman couldn’t instinctively know about herself. Or maybe Gabrielle was simply testing him, trying to see just how much he actually knew about her.
    â€œYou didn’t mention a roommate’s name on the machine. And as for the lover…I don’t