The Heiress and the Sheriff by Stella Bagwell Page A

much right now, but I promise, Matthew, I will find the woman who gave birth to Taylor. If this Brown woman is the mother, I’ll find her someway. And then Claudia will have to believe you.”
    He looked gratefully at Wyatt. “Yeah, I know you will, partner. But by then, will any of it matter? How can I live with a woman who doesn’t believe in me?”
    â€œTouché!” Parker bellowed. “If you need a divorce lawyer, Matthew, you know where to find me.”
    â€œI just might at that,” Matthew muttered, then stalked rigidly out of the study.
    Wyatt planted his Stetson back on his head and glanced at the two men left in the room. “Well, I guess I’ve stirred up enough trouble for one night. I’ll say goodbye to you two.”
    â€œThanks for coming, Wyatt,” Ryan said to him. “I’m sorry you had to witness that scene between my son and his wife. But you, as much as anybody around here, know what they’ve been going through.”
    Wyatt nodded, his lips compressed in a stern, straight line. “Yeah. I’ll keep you posted on anything I uncover.”
    On his way out, Wyatt found himself turning toward the corridor that led to Gabrielle’s room.
    As he stood outside Gabrielle’s door, he asked himself what he was doing. He’d come to the Double Crown only because he had wanted to give Matthew and Claudia the crushing news about the baby in person, rather than over the telephone. There was no reason for him to see Gabrielle tonight. Except that he wanted to.
    As he knocked lightly on her door, he cursed himself for his weakness. Young virgins were not his style. And young virgins with no recollections of their past were way off-limits. Yet something about her tugged at him long after he heard her voice and looked upon her face.
    â€œYes? Come in. The door is unlocked.”
    For one brief moment he considered turning on his heel and quickly walking away. Then, cursing himself for being a coward, he pushed through the heavy door.
    She had been sitting on the leather couch, but the moment she saw it was him, she stood. A silk, peach-colored robe was wrapped around her slender figure and cinched at her waist. Even from this distance he could see the naked outline of her breast beneath the fine material, and his body stirred with unashamed longing.
    â€œI didn’t know it was you,” she said bluntly.
    â€œObviously.” He walked over to where she stood, his eyes drinking in the tousled hair piled atop her head, the smooth brown column of her throat, the curves of her bare lips.
    â€œDon’t you ever rest?”
    His lips twisted into something close to a grin. “Only when it’s a necessity.”
    Like the heavy thud of a bass fiddle, Gabrielle’s heart pounded inside her chest as his gaze continued to sweep over her face and down to the gaping material between herbreasts. Not caring how virginal or modest she looked, she reached up with one hand and clasped the robe tightly together.
    Her action made the grin on his face deepen, and Gabrielle felt stunned, bowled over by the flash of his white teeth and the dangerous glint in his hazel-green eyes. How many women had seen that same sensual look on his face and been lured into his bed by it?
    â€œWhy are you here? Have you found out something else about me?”
    The question reminded him who he was and why he’d come to the Double Crown in the first place. It hadn’t been to see her. But now that he was seeing her, he didn’t regret his decision to walk down here to her room. She looked like a juicy apricot. Sweet and tart and, oh, so ready to bite.
    â€œScared?”
    She lifted her chin a fraction. “Not of you,” she lied.
    His gaze settled on her lips, and she clutched the robe even more tightly.
    â€œIf you’re not, you should be,” he said slowly, then forced himself to step around her and over to the windows facing out onto