The Cowboy's Million-Dollar Secret. Emilie Rose

as thrilled to meet her as she was to meet him, Leanna clenched her teeth. “I’m a hostess, not a baby-sitter.”

      He shoved a lock of hair off his brow, yanked his black hat from the hook beside the back door, and parked it on his head in one smooth, choreographed move. “Right.”

      With his hat pulled low on his forehead, Patrick Lander looked like the real deal as far as cowboys went. She’d bet the muscles straining the shoulders of his plaid shirt and the thighs of his faded jeans hadn’t come from a personal trainer, and his tanned skin looked genuine, not the result of some expensive cream. There wasn’t any Hollywood in him.

      Yet. She chewed her lip.

      Would a multimillion-dollar inheritance change him? She certainly hoped not, because thanks to her mom, she’d already had a parade of Hollywood phonies and live-for-the-minute men in her life. What she needed now was a man she could trust, a friend to replace the one she’d lost. She hoped to find one in Arch’s son.

      He turned for the door, but she wasn’t ready to let him go. She had a zillion questions to ask. None of which she actually could ask without giving too much away too soon. But she had to think of something to keep him from walking out. “Do you need someone to watch your every move?”

      Patrick paused and slowly pivoted. An assessing light entered his eyes and then he chuckled. The sound slid over her nerve endings like the scrape of a cat’s tongue. “If I did, it wouldn’t be some gal half my age. I could run circles around you without breaking a sweat.”

      She swallowed hard. Gaining his friendship wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. “How old do you think I am?”

      His dark gaze fastened on her with the sharp focus of a paparazzo’s zoom lens. He took in the stick-straight brown hair she’d pulled back with a barrette, her beige shirt and slacks, and her sensible shoes in a look so slow and thorough she grew warm all over.

      The flash of vanity making her long for something besides her baggy traveling outfit was totally ridiculous. The last thing she wanted to be was attracted to a charmer, or worse yet, to have to dodge one’s advances.

      The corners of his mouth curled upward, and her stomach fluttered. Then, when his smile twisted into an irritated expression, her hopes sank.

      “You can’t be more than eighteen, kid. It’s likely I’ll end up hauling your butt out of trouble every time I turn around. Between corralling the dudes and keeping Dad from working himself to death over on our place, I won’t have time. We’re short-handed and there’s no room for dead weight.”

      The “kid” comment rankled. She’d been looking after herself and her mother for as long as she could remember. Stretching up to her full height, which left her a head shorter than Patrick, she threw back her shoulders.

      “I’m twenty-one. I don’t need looking after, and I’ll carry my share of the load. As for you running circles around me…you’ll be lucky if you can keep up with me.”

      She bit her tongue and took a calming breath. When backed into a corner she tended to get smart-mouthed, but now was not the time to wise-off. Arguing in front of her new employer was likely to get the job offer rescinded. She glanced at Brooke.

      Her new boss watched the byplay with an interested and amused expression on her face but made no comment.

      Leanna forced a smile. “I came here to work, Mr. Lander, not to have fun.”

      “You might not be looking for fun, but our guests will be. From sunup to bunk-down, fun is our profession. And the name’s Patrick. I don’t answer to anything else except in the bedroom. And, kid—” his lips curled in a sly, knowing smile that twisted her insides in a peculiar way “—you and I won’t ever be in the same one at the same time.”

      At least they agreed on one thing. Relieved, she smiled back. “Not unless you’re pushing the vacuum.”

      He didn’t smile, but his lips twitched, and a spark danced in his dark eyes. She thought she detected a trace of grudging respect. “Where are you staying?”

      She blinked at his change of topic and bit the inside of her cheek. Glancing from Patrick to Brooke and back, she shrugged. “The job description was a little unclear. Aren’t accommodations part of the package?”

      Brooke shook her head. “The only staff member who lives on-site is Toby, the head trail boss.”

      Patrick faced Brooke. “Your painters will be in first thing tomorrow morning. The Double C’s booked solid. She can’t stay here.”

      An unexpected twist, but she’d sleep in her car, if necessary. It wouldn’t be the first time she made her bed in a back seat. Leanna asked, “Painters?”

      Brooke nodded and rested a hand over her stomach. “Caleb and I are expecting. We decided to have our private quarters redecorated while we’re traveling, because we didn’t want the baby exposed to the paint fumes or the dust from the floor refinishers. Maria, our housekeeper, offered to keep an eye on everything, but she’s been unexpectedly called away.”

      Brooke crossed the room and pulled a phone book from the drawer. “Patrick’s right. We can’t house you at the Double C, but there’s a rooming house about ten miles from here. I’ll write down the address and phone number for you—if you’re still interested in the job?”

      “I’m definitely interested.” She couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than spending the next month learning more about the Lander family. Carolyn Lander hadn’t been happy in this remote section of Texas, although she’d stayed there till she died twenty years ago. But to Leanna, who’d spent years dodging paparazzi as part of her job with Arch, wide-open spaces sounded like heaven.

      Besides, someone had to help Patrick deal with the devastating news she was about to deliver. And maybe, just maybe, he could fill the void Arch’s death left in her life.

      “In that case,” Brooke continued, “I’ve left a thorough description of my job duties for you along with Maria’s daughter’s phone number.” She pointed to a piece of paper pinned on the bulletin board above the counter. “She said you could call her if you had any questions. I don’t think I left anything out during our tour of the facilities, but why don’t you look over the list while I get the boarding house address?”

      Patrick intercepted Leanna before she could reach the bulletin board. He moved so swiftly she had to put up her hands to prevent a collision. Her fingertips grazed his firm chest and a tingle jolted clear to her elbows. His cedar and citrus scent teased her senses. Disconcerted, she took a quick step back.

      “Maria has her hands full with her grandkids while her daughter’s recuperating from surgery. Don’t bug her. You need anything, you whistle for me. Got it?” His voice was low and intimate, as if he didn’t want his sister-in-law to overhear.

      It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Patrick didn’t think she was qualified for the position of hostess. Mentally dusting off her hands, she met the challenge in his eyes.

      “My former employer had a forty-room home with an in-house staff of four, along with an outside staff that varied depending on the season. I supervised them all. Guests were always coming and going. I can handle the dude ranch.”

      Her words had no visible effect on him, but she held her ground. Experience had taught her not to respond to intimidation.

      Brooke’s voice intruded on their staring match. “I’m sorry Arch Golden’s death forced you to seek other employment, Leanna, but his attorney—who coincidentally used to be mine before I moved to Texas—gave you a glowing reference.”

      He would. Phil knew the role Leanna had played in his client’s life, as well as the one she’d now been assigned to play as the executrix of Arch’s estate. Sitting in Phil’s office it had sounded relatively easy to fulfill her executrix duties. All she had to do was contact Patrick and tell him about his real father and his inheritance before the press crashed down