Free Dancing in a Hurricane by Laura Breck Page B

me."
    Why would Sixto live in fear of marrying the wrong woman? His parents were happily married. His sisters, too. What caused an anxiety so deep-seated that his subconscious replayed the dream over and over? Did it have anything to do with his desire to become a social worker? He seemed so closed right now, she would wait and bring up the subject another time.
    He gave her a look. "What did you say you did for a living?"
    "I'm a mind reader. Telepathic. Madame Briana of the Gypsies."
    "You just got lucky." He poured more wine for them and sat back in his chair.
    "You're not jealous, are you?" She smiled, wondering at his discomfort.
    "You should think about moving back with the gypsies."
    She barked a laughed. "Then who would be here to keep you company?"
    "That's true. You are amusing." His tone sounded bored.
    Amusing? Great. That made her feel like a trained seal.
    He pushed his empty plate forward, put his elbows on the table, and fisted his hands together. "Your turn. What's your recurring dream?"
    "It's really stupid." She sounded petulant, but she wasn't sure she wanted to share her deepest thoughts when he was in this unsettled mood. "I'll tell you some other time." She forked into a piece of arugula and ate it, the tangy vinaigrette bursting on her tongue.
    He laughed. "Come on. Tell me your dream so we can eat whatever's producing that awesome chocolate smell in the kitchen."
    She sat back and gazed at him. How would he interpret her dream? Did she want to find out?
    "We had a deal." He pinned her with a stare.
    Oh, what the heck. Since she already yakked about her love life, one more awkward personal revelation wouldn't hurt. "All right. I dream that I'm talking to my Aunt Prudence when—"
    "You really do have one?"
    "Yes. Did have one. She was actually my mom's aunt—Great Aunt Prudence. So, I'm having tea with her in her creaky old house in Port Angeles and a cold, heavy fog rolls in."
    "Foreboding evil."
    "Who's telling this story?" She raised a brow.
    He smiled. "Sorry."
    "So, a heavy fog…" She stifled a grin. "Laden with evil, moves in."
    He chuckled.
    She just listened for a moment. He had a nice laugh. And a smile that warmed his eyes. Staring at him, she lost her place. "Um…"
    "Fog rolls in…"
    "Right. When the fog lifts, I'm Prudence. I'm eighty-five, never been married, no kids, no family." She heard a catch in her voice. This nightmare was traumatic, even in the daytime.
    "Uh huh. How often do you have this dream?"
    She looked at the ceiling. "Maybe twice a week."
    "And when was the last time you had it?"
    "I don't remember. Maybe three weeks ago, I guess."
    He smiled a cocky, smarmy grin. "And what life-changing decision did you make three weeks ago?" His voice sounded annoyingly confident
    She frowned, counting back the days. The answer popped into her brain. "To move to Miami."
    "There you go. You left the fog of the Puget Sound behind and you're here in the Florida sun, starting a new life. I predict you won't have that dream again." He leaned back in his chair and dramatically tossed his napkin on the table.
    He was far too cocky, and for some reason, it just tipped her over into irritation. She wiped her mouth and set her napkin on the table. "We'll just have to see if you're right or not."
    He let out a humorless laugh. "I'm using master's program psychology. I think that might be why I could interpret it while your 'Freudianly speaking' self-analysis fell short."
    She clamped her jaw shut. She hated to be mocked. Her lack of graduate school education was a sore spot. "You think you've got everyone figured out, don't you." She picked up her barely-touched plate and salad bowl. "I think I should move back with the gypsies."
    As she walked by him, he put his hand on her stomach to stop her.
     
     

 
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    Sixto's touch sent tingling through Bree's body. His hand rested lightly on her stomach and he looked up at her from his chair.
    "I'm sorry if that sounded rude." His