From Single Mum to Secret Heiress. KRISTI GOLD

a sexy, dark-eyed, dimpled cowboy attorney muddle her mind. She’d let him fix her sink and say his piece before sending him packing back to Cheyenne without her.

      Logan grabbed a wrench from the counter, lowered to his knees and stuck his head into the cabinet beneath the sink. Hannah leaned back against the counter to watch, unable to suppress a laugh over the string of oaths coming out of the lawyer’s mouth.

      “Sorry,” he muttered without looking back. “I need to tighten a fitting and it’s not cooperating.”

      “Is that the reason for the leak?”

      “Yeah. It’s a little corroded and probably should be replaced eventually. But I think I can get it to hold.”

      At least that would save her an after-business-hours service call. “That’s a relief.”

      “Don’t be relieved until I say it’s repaired.”

      A few minutes passed, filled with a little more cursing and the occasional groan, until Logan finally emerged from beneath the cabinet and turned on the sink. Seemingly satisfied, he set the wrench aside and sent Hannah another devastating smile. “All done for the time being. Again, it needs to be replaced. Actually, all the pipes should be replaced.”

      Hannah sighed. “So I’ve been told. The house was built over forty years ago and it’s systematically falling apart. I just paid for a new furnace. That pretty much ate up my reserves and blew my budget.”

      He wiped his hands on the towel beside the sink. “If you claim the inheritance, you’d never have to worry about a tight budget.”

      She couldn’t deny the concept appealed to her greatly, but the cost to her principles was simply too high. “As I’ve said, I have no intention of taking my share.” Even if J. D. Lassiter did owe her that much. But money could never make up for the years she’d spent in a constant state of wondering where she had come from.

      Logan leaned back against the counter opposite Hannah. “And what are your intentions when it comes to my invitation?”

      “I just don’t see the wisdom in running off to Cheyenne on what will probably be a wild-goose chase.”

      “But it might not be at all. And you would also have the opportunity to meet some of the Lassiters, in case you decide you’d like to connect with your relatives since you wouldn’t be bound by the nondisclosure.”

      “I’m not interested in connecting with the Lassiters.”

      He studied her for a few moments, questions in his eyes. “Aside from your in-laws, do you have any family?”

      Hannah shook her head. “No. I’m an only child and so was my mother. My grandparents have been gone for many years.”

      “Then wouldn’t it be good to get to know the family you never knew existed?” he asked.

      She shrugged. “I’ve gone all these years without knowing, so I’m sure I’ll survive if I never meet them.”

      “What about your daughter? Don’t you think she deserves to know she has another family?”

      The sound of rapid footsteps signaled the arrival of said daughter. Hannah’s attention turned to her right to see the feisty five-year-old twirling through the dining area wearing a pink boa and matching tutu that covered her aqua shirt and shorts, with a fake diamond tiara planted atop her head. She waved around the star wand that she gripped in her fist and shouted, “I’m queen of the frog fairies!”

      Cassie stopped turning circles when she spotted the strange man in the kitchen, yet she didn’t stop her forward progress. Instead, she charged up to Logan, where she paused to give him a partially toothless grin. “Are you a frog or a prince?”

      Possibly a toad in prince clothing, Hannah decided, but that remained to be seen. “This is Mr. Whittaker, Cassie, and he’s a lawyer. Do you know what that is, sweetie?”

      Her daughter glanced back and rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby, Mama. I’m almost six and I watch the law shows on TV with Shelly. That’s how I learned about lawyers. They look mad all the time and yell ‘I object.’”

      Hannah made a mental note to have a long talk with the sitter about appropriate television programs for a kindergartner. When Cassie began twirling again, she caught her daughter by the shoulders and turned her to face Logan. “What do you say to Mr. Whittaker?”

      Cassie curtsied and grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Whittaker.”

      Logan attempted a smile but it didn’t make its way to his eyes. In fact, he almost looked sad. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Your Highness.”

      Being addressed as royalty seemed to please Cassie greatly. “Do you have a little girl?”

      His gaze wandered away for a moment before he returned it to Cassie. “No, I don’t.”

      “A little boy?” Cassie topped off the comment with a sour look.

      “Nope. No kids.”

      Hannah sensed Logan’s discomfort and chalked it up to someone who hadn’t been around children, and maybe didn’t care to be around them. “Now that the introductions are over, go pick up your toys, Cassandra Jane, and start deciding what you’ll be wearing to school on Monday since that takes you at least two days.”

      That statement earned a frown from her daughter. “Can I just wear this?”

      “I think you should save that outfit for playtime. Now scoot.”

      Cassie backed toward the dining room, keeping her smile trained on Logan. “I think you’re a prince,” she said, then turned and sprinted away.

      Once her daughter had vacated the premises, Hannah returned her attention to Logan. “I’m sorry. She’s really into fairy tales these days, and she doesn’t seem to know a stranger. Frankly, that worries me sometimes. I’m afraid someday she’ll encounter someone with questionable intentions. I’ve cautioned her time and again, but I’m not sure she understands the risk in that behavior.”

      “I understand why that would worry you,” he said. “But I guess you have to trust that she’ll remember your warnings if the situation presents itself.”

      Hannah sighed. “I hope so. She’s everything to me and sometimes I’d like to keep her locked in her room until she’s eighteen.”

      He grinned. “Encased in bubble wrap, right?”

      She was pleasantly surprised he remembered that from the night before. “Bubble wrap with rhinestones. Now what were you saying before we were interrupted by the queen?”

      “Mama! Where’s my purple shorts?”

      Hannah gritted her teeth and spoke through them. “Just a minute, Cassie.”

      “Look, maybe this isn’t a good time to discuss this....” Logan said.

      She was beginning to wonder that same thing. “You’re probably right. And it’s probably best if I say thanks, but no thanks, to your proposal, although I sincerely appreciate your offer.”

      When Logan’s phone beeped, he took the cell out of his back pocket and swiped the screen. “The driver’s here.”

      “Then I guess you better go.” She sounded disappointed, even to her own ears.

      He pocketed his wallet then unrolled his sleeves. “Do you have a pen and paper handy so I can give you my info?”

      Hannah withdrew a pencil from the tin container on the counter and tore a piece of paper from the nearby notepad. “Here you go, but don’t forget, I already have your card.”

      He turned his back and began jotting something down. “Yeah, but you don’t have my home address.”

      She swallowed hard. “Why would I need that?”

      He faced