The Cowboy's Million-Dollar Secret. Emilie Rose

a place to sleep. Since Brooke had mentioned that the ranch would be empty for the night, she’d stashed her luggage under the porch and crashed on a lounge chair. Luckily she’d packed bug repellant because the mosquitoes here were huge, and they liked California cuisine—namely her.

      At first light she’d found the barn and made use of the big concrete stall used for washing the horses to shower and change clothes. With a little snooping, she’d found an out-of-the-way building which looked to be unused except for furniture storage. After picking the lock, she’d stashed her bags and returned to the main house, only to drift off to sleep while waiting for Patrick to arrive.

      She yawned and arched her stiff back. Living with Arch had spoiled her. She used to be able to sleep anywhere. Tonight she looked forward to stretching out on the long sofa in the storage building, without the bugs. Maybe Rico would keep her company. She’d felt safe with the tough-looking dog beside her.

      As she moved from room to room, her mind drifted back to this morning’s conversation with Patrick. He’d said he and his father didn’t get along. That was good—at least as far as the inheritance went. He might be reluctant to announce his true paternity if he and the man who’d raised him were close.

      She wondered if Mr. Lander knew Patrick wasn’t his son. Carolyn’s letters suggested he didn’t. If he didn’t, her surprise wouldn’t be a pleasant one.

      After Arch made it in Hollywood, he’d written to Carolyn wanting to claim his son. She’d promised to write again when she’d broken the news to Patrick about his true paternity and asked her husband for a divorce. The letter never came, because Carolyn had died.

      Stopping in front of the mirror, she smoothed her hair and reapplied her tinted lip balm. Her mother constantly urged her to “do something with herself,” fearing she’d never catch a man if she continued her plain-Jane ways. Tonya, who’d had more lovers than Tootsie had rolls, couldn’t understand that not every woman wanted to depend on a man to keep food on the table and a roof over her head.

      The last thing Leanna wanted to do was give someone the power to break her heart. She’d nursed her mother’s broken hearts for most of her life and wasn’t eager to drag herself through that morass.

      She closed the door on the last room and made her way down the wide staircase to the small office. It’d be wise to go over the registration packets for each of their guests so she would know whom she’d be expected to entertain and what kinds of interests the guests might have.

      As soon as she entered Brooke and Caleb’s private quarters, the smell of fresh paint and the rumble of voices told her the decorators had arrived. She jerked to a halt inside the office.

      Patrick sat at the desk with his head bent over a stack of papers. In profile, he looked so much like Arch that her heart ached and her throat clogged with loss. Soon, after they got to know each other a little better, she’d tell him about Arch. The truth would be easier coming from a friend than a stranger.

      “Patrick, could I get the keys to the cabins?”

      His dark eyes focused on her and the image of her mentor vanished. Arch had been an attractive man, but he hadn’t oozed sensuality the way Patrick did. Patrick was the kind of man who made a woman stand up straighter and hold her shoulders back.

      “Sure. Need anything else?” Frown lines scored his forehead, as if something were bothering him.

      “I’d like to go over the registration packets.”

      “They’re in the basket, but I’ve already double-checked them. Everything’s in ’em.” He reached into the drawer and pulled out a key ring with at least three dozen keys on it. “The keys are marked with the cabin numbers.”

      If one of those went to the storage building, she wouldn’t have to pick the lock tonight. Her fingertips brushed his palm when she took the keys. A tingle traveled all the way up her arm. Alarmed, she snatched her hand back. “Thank you.”

      “You can meet the crew after lunch.” He drummed his fingers on the desk.

      “Fine. I’ll go check the cabins.” She’d look over the packets later. The office was too small for both of them to work in without tripping over each other, and his blatant masculinity was…overpowering. She turned to leave.

      “Leanna, how old was Arch Golden?” His question stopped her at the door.

      She turned and could have sworn his eyes were focused on her bottom before he blinked and met her gaze. A flush spread from her middle through her limbs. “Fifty-nine. Why?”

      “He was too old for you.”

      Her shoulders sagged. Patrick wasn’t the first to jump to the wrong conclusion about her relationship with Arch. “Arch wasn’t my lover.”

      He sat back in the chair, lacing his fingers over his flat belly and stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Then what was he?”

      “A friend.” A mentor, a father figure, a safe harbor. He’d given her a home when she’d felt unsafe in her own.

      “Right.” There was that sarcasm again. “You lived with him almost six years.”

      Seven if you counted the year he and her mother had been a couple, but that wasn’t common knowledge. Arch had done his best to shield her from the press. “How do you know that?”

      Muttering under his breath, he swiveled back to the desk.

      “You know, Patrick, every relationship between a man and a woman doesn’t have to be sexual.”

      His scowl bordered on ferocious. “A relationship between a man and a child sure as hell shouldn’t be—unless he’s a pervert.”

      “Your—Arch was not a pervert. He was a kind and generous and…” But Patrick wasn’t listening. He’d focused his attention on the papers in front of him. Her name nearly leaped off the page. She moved closer. “What are you reading?”

      “The report on you.”

      “What?” She halted midstep.

      “Brooke orders background checks on every employee—including you. Although yours is sketchy because it was done on short notice.”

      Anger rippled through her like waves on a pond. He had some nerve going through her confidential files. She reached for it, but he pulled it out of reach. “That’s private information. You have no right—”

      “I have every right to know what kind of employee I’m responsible for supervising.”

      Maybe he did, but she didn’t want her dirty laundry aired. She snatched at the report again. He put a hand out to hold her back. His fingers splayed over her waist, distracting her from her goal. Alarmed by the unexpected contact and even more by the heat pooling beneath his fingers, she jumped back.

      He fisted his hand in his lap. “You said you had no family. Does your sister know where you are?”

      She winced at the hurt his words inflicted and sank back on her heels. One of these days she’d get used to Tonya’s lies. “I don’t have a sister.”

      He tapped the page on the desk in front of him as if seeing it in print made it a fact.

      She huffed out an exasperated breath. “You need a better investigator. The woman who claims to be my sister is actually my mother. She lies about her age to get parts.”

      “She’s an actress?” He obviously wasn’t a Hollywood fan.

      “Not one you’ve ever heard of. And in case your lousy snoop missed it, she was Arch’s lover, not me.” She turned to leave once again.

      “Is Golden your father?”

      Leanna bit her tongue to keep from yelling, No, he’s yours. Patrick had no idea how lucky he was to have not one, but two men who wanted to claim him. If that wasn’t enough, according to Carolyn’s letters, he’d been his mother’s