Free Bombshell: A BWWM Billionaire Amnesia Romance Suspense Novel by Mia Caldwell Page B

for her convertible. She used her GPS to locate the house. It was farther in the mountains than she’d expected. The dirt road, took her into a part of the mountains with very few homes. She went past a boarded up home with several dilapidated and rusted out school busses parked out, then followed the signal until she came to a small wooden cabin nestled in a stand of pines. She saw not the Sheriff’s car, but another vehicle that she thought might be his. She checked her watch as she rolled to a stop. Good, she was late. “I hope, you plan to punish me,” she said out loud, as she added another coat of lipstick to her thin dry lips.
     

 
    Chapter Eleven
    After Merrick left, Bombshell was confused. She’d wanted to make love to him, but he’d rejected her. Why? They were supposed to be engaged, which meant they were in love, right? And people who were in love made love to each other. She didn’t get it.
    Frustrated, and not tired enough to sleep, she nevertheless had no desire to run into him anytime soon, nor experience his rejection again. She looked in the mirror and gasped at the sight of herself. Her hair was a mess, and the ugly bandage didn’t help. She was wearing a clean but stained stretched-out t-shirt and no bra. The sweatpants did nothing for her figure, too tight in the waist and too short in the legs. No wonder he didn’t want to kiss her, or touch her.
    She got out of bed and explored their bedroom. Or maybe it wouldn’t be their bedroom much longer. Maybe he was planning on dumping her. She looked in the mirror again and flinched. She wouldn’t blame him if he did. She had to do something about her appearance.
    She looked through the room and checked the closet. He had a suitcase zipped up in the corner, but she had no luggage. She couldn’t understand how she’d lost her purse, her luggage and her memory, but he still had his suitcase.
    She lifted it up. It felt pretty light. There were a few shirts hanging in the closet, so maybe he’d already unpacked it. Still, curiosity got the better of her, so she opened it up. It was empty except for some dirty clothes stuffed in a plastic bag. When she touched the bag, a shiver ran down her fingertips. Something about the plastic feel made her immediately drop it from her hand.
    She shook her head, trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling. Maybe it was guilt. Just because they were engaged didn’t give her the right to go through his things. Did it? She zipped up the suitcase and put it back where she’d found it. Then she went to his jacket and put her hand into his pockets. The first pocket turned out to be empty, but there was a paper napkin in the other.
    It wasn’t crumpled like a napkin used to wipe one’s hands, but folded neatly as if it had a greater meaning. She pulled the napkin out and carried it out of the dark closet into the light of the well-lit room. She read the handwritten words on what was clearly a cocktail napkin.
    Tina Sanchez
951-555-5512
I have a twin sister.
    She blinked. Why would her fiancé have a woman’s phone number written on a cocktail napkin in his pocket? She might not remember who she was or anything about her life prior to one day ago, but she knew she hadn’t just fallen off a turnip truck either. Heat prickled up her neck. That’s why he wouldn’t touch her. He was cheating on her. The bastard.
    After memorizing the telephone number, she stuffed the note back where she’d found it, then closed the closet door behind her, leaving it the way she’d found it. She walked over to the window and looked at the beautiful view, but even the light bouncing off the creek at the bottom of gently sloping wildflower encrusted hill couldn’t stop the depression from settling in on her and crushing away all her happiness.
    She found a blanket in a closet and lay on top of the bed, curling up in the blanket and trying to hold back the tears. It wasn’t fair. How could she be happy? She couldn’t remember anything.