Free The Heiress and the Sheriff by Stella Bagwell Page A

think so,” he said bluntly.
    â€œWhy?” she persisted. “I realize I wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. But it’s possible I have a live-in lover.”
    Wyatt’s gaze fell to her small hands, now clutching the coffee mug. Her nails were short and neat and painted a pearly color that reminded him of the inside of the mussel shells he used to pick up from the creek bed. The thought of those soft tanned fingers stroking some man as he madelove to her was repulsive to Wyatt. Unless he was that man. God help him.
    â€œI said no!”
    She reared back at his outburst, her face a picture of bewilderment. “Why is that so hard to imagine? I’m fairly certain I’m of legal age. If there is a man I was involved with, he might be able to—”
    â€œThere is no man, Gabrielle. You’re a virgin.”

Five
    G abrielle appeared so totally stung by his comment, he almost believed she was amnesic. But then, good drama classes could have produced the same expression, he assured himself.
    â€œHow could you possibly know such a thing!” she flung at him.
    Wyatt couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt the heat of a blush steal over his face. But he was sure as hell feeling it now. “I wasn’t supposed to know,” he muttered. “But it was part of your medical report and—”
    â€œAnd you just didn’t have the decency to quit reading!”
    Wyatt could have told her that he hadn’t read anything. But he wasn’t going to lay any sort of blame on Matthew. She already considered him the equivalent of pond scum. It didn’t matter if she believed he’d also invaded her privacy.
    â€œMiss Carter, there are things going on here—”
    â€œI know all about those things! Maggie has filled me in on Bryan’s kidnapping and how the recovered baby turned out to be Matthew’s son. But a different one. Which he says he didn’t know he had. And if you think I had something to do with any of it, you’re crazy, you’re—”
    Her words halted and she frowned. Then, bending her head, she pressed a hand over her eyes.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?”
    She didn’t answer or look up at him. He moved closer and took her by the shoulder. “Are you ill, Gabrielle?”
    â€œNo,” she said with moan.
    â€œThen look at me!” he ordered.
    â€œI can’t. I can’t see you. Everything suddenly started blurring and running together.”
    The panic in her voice was real, and Wyatt could not stop his hand from reaching up and stroking down the long length of her hair. “Is your head hurting?” he asked more gently.
    â€œNot any more than it’s been hurting all day.”
    He stroked her hair again, loving the way the silky texture slid against the pads of his fingers. “See if your vision is getting any better,” he urged.
    She lifted her head and turned slightly to look at him. The puckered frown between her brows told him she was still struggling to focus.
    â€œI think you should lie down, Gabrielle. I’ll help you.”
    He took her hand and drew her up from the couch. After two steps she swayed on her feet and clutched desperately at his forearm. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. Everything is spinning. Just give me a moment.”
    Wyatt didn’t bother giving her time. Instead, he bent and picked her up in his arms.
    Gabrielle gasped. “What—are you doing?”
    â€œKeeping you from falling on your face.”
    Gabrielle had no other choice but to wrap her arms around his neck and hold on as he carried her across the long room.
    She was not a large woman. She wasn’t petite either. Yet Wyatt managed her weight as though he were used to lifting much more. His arms were strong bands around her back and beneath her thighs. The hard muscles of his shoulders flexed beneath her arms.
    In spite of his cold words she felt safe and protected by his