The Cowboy's Lullaby. Judy Duarte

“But I gave up dressing to impress others years ago.”

      And she had the emotional scars to prove it, although she kept them hidden. Still, every now and again, they crept to the forefront, reminding her of who she was and where she’d come from.

      In spite of the money her father had managed to parlay in his dealings and the prestigious private school he’d sent her to, life had been tough for her as a child. Her classmates at Preston Prep had not only been cliquish, but mean. And no matter how hard Chloe had tried to conform, dressing to their standards, it hadn’t mattered one bit. So she’d given up and had decided to wear whatever she darned well pleased.

      Either way, the boys seemed to flock around her. And she’d soon learned how to use that to her advantage—advice she’d learned from Desiree, actually.

      Lessons from Desiree #2: “Be proud of your assets and make the best of them.”

      Chloe had not only taken that bit of wisdom to heart, she’d also put her own spin on it: if you’ve got it, flaunt it.

      “You look pretty,” Brianna said. “Just like Mommy.”

      Chloe cupped the child’s cheek. “Thanks, honey. I can’t think of a nicer compliment than that.”

      Over lunch, Brianna chattered away about the friends she’d met in Bayside, as well as her visits to the San Diego Zoo and Sea World.

      “I’m glad you had a good time,” Barbara said. “I plan to take my niece and nephew on a trip someday. Maybe I ought to consider the San Diego area.”

      Twenty minutes later, after finishing the last of her salad, Chloe blotted her lips with the napkin, then reached for her purse and gave Mrs. Davies the key to their room. “We’re in 1410.”

      “Are you going now?” Brianna asked.

      “I need to visit the ladies’ room first and freshen my makeup. Then I’m off so I can get this meeting out of the way.” Chloe didn’t need to look at Mrs. Davies to sense the woman’s disapproval, yet old habits were tough to break, and she stole a peek anyway.

      Yep. Brow furrowed, expression severe.

      Over the years, and after innumerable disappointments, Chloe no longer gave a rip about what people thought of her, but sometimes, the lonely child within couldn’t refrain from seeking approval and respect.

      But there was no way on earth she’d try to be someone or something she wasn’t. Not today. So she’d made up her mind to pull out all the stops when it came to dressing for this meeting. She’d done it for Desiree.

      And for herself.

      “Brian Willoughby and Jake Braddock are both rather conventional,” Mrs. Davies said.

      “Good.” Chloe couldn’t help but smile as she scooted her chair back and stood. “Then this meeting ought to be interesting.”

      “To say the least,” the older woman responded.

      “Have fun with Mrs. Davies,” Chloe told Brianna. Then she placed a kiss on the little girl’s cheek, leaving a faint pink mark. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

      As she strode toward the restroom, she tugged at the hem of the knit dress that had hiked up when she’d been sitting. It was something she’d wear clubbing, if she were inclined to do that sort of thing. As it was, even though she owned the proper nighttime wardrobe, her evenings were pretty quiet. Or as Desiree would say, pleasantly boring.

      Chloe ought to be nervous about facing Jake Brad-dock again, she supposed. But sometimes it was fun to be a bit naughty and rebellious.

      Especially around conservative men who valued being in control of those around them.

      Jake sat in Willoughby’s office, waiting for Desiree’s “dear” friend to arrive. He glanced at his watch.1:32 p.m.

      Some women didn’t consider themselves late until fifteen minutes had passed, but punctuality was important to him.

      And Chloe Haskell was late.

      When a buzz sounded on the intercom, the attorney responded. “Yes.”

      “Ms. Haskell is here,” a woman’s voice said.

      “Please show her in.”

      Willoughby stood, and Jake followed suit. But when the attractive redhead swept into the room, wearing a curve-hugging, black knit dress and spike heels, Jake nearly dropped back in his seat.

      Mercy. At any moment he expected to hear music in the background and Roy Orbison break out in song at the sight of her.

      Hands down, Chloe was a hell of a pretty woman.

      And too damn sexy for words.

      “Please have a seat,” Willoughby said.

      “Thank you.” She moved toward the chair next to Jake with the grace of a dancer, her eyes glimmering with sexual confidence.

      Jake might have braced himself for a fight, but he hadn’t realized he’d have to buck his libido, too.

      Interestingly, Willoughby didn’t seem to be the least bit fazed by her. And why was that?

      Jake supposed it was because Desiree had always carried herself in a similar manner, and her attorney had grown used to it.

      Well, Jake wouldn’t get used to it. Looking at Chloe all dolled up like that left him a bit unbalanced. And he didn’t like having the urge to stare.

      Fortunately, Willoughby got them all back on track by reading the will. And per Desiree’s wishes, the estate was split between Jake and Brianna, which Jake didn’t have a problem with. But Desiree had appointed Chloe to look after Brianna’s holdings and her best interests until she was of age.

      What kind of ogre had Desiree thought he was?

      Jake would never put his own interests ahead of his sister’s, so his stepmother’s distrust cut him to the quick.

      Chloe shifted in her seat, drawing his attention, then crossed a leg over her knee, flashing a lovely stretch of thigh. “What about custody of Brianna?”

      Jake tore his gaze away from the sexy redhead and focused on the attorney. Chloe had only been granted temporary custody. Surely, Desiree knew the best person to have permanent custody was Jake.

      “Desiree appointed you two as joint guardians,” Willoughby said.

      “Excuse me?” Jake gripped the armrests of his leather seat. “That’s crazy. Desiree couldn’t have been in her right mind when she drew up that document. How in blazes can two people living in different states share custody of a child who will start kindergarten in the fall?”

      “Let me read the letter she wrote, giving the details of her wishes.” Willoughby sorted through the pages before him, found what he was looking for and cleared his throat:

      “Dear Jake and Chloe,

      I’ve been dealt a crappy hand, but I’ll play it out to the end. I know this may be a bit out of the ordinary, but I hope you’ll understand where I’m coming from.

      Brianna has lost her father and now me. No child should have to go through that, but I’ve tried to prepare her the best I can. Now it’s up to you. I know that you both love her. And interestingly enough, I believe that having the two of you share custody will be best for her. Jake, you favor your father in more ways than looks. And Chloe, you’re a lot like me. I’m hopeful that Brianna will be comforted by that.

      I’m asking you to live together as a family at the ranch for six weeks. At the end of that time, I’d like you both to come to an agreement on how to make shared custody work.”

      What? No way.

      Jake wasn’t about