Royal Protector. Laura Gordon

says he’s got to talk to you, Sheriff. One of their trucks was stolen.”

      “Get the information and tell him I’ll send a deputy out to talk to him.”

      “Want me to dispatch Burt?”

      “Yes. Thanks, Sylvia.” As he spoke to his secretary his eyes searched Lexie’s face, looking for something—anything—that would solve the mystery that was increasingly surrounding her. “Oh, and, Sylvia, please hold all my calls until I let you know otherwise.”

      He hung up the phone but didn’t make a move to close the distance between them. “Level with me, Lexie. Tell me what you know about the man who called himself Hugh Miller. Begin by telling me why he used a false identity.”

      She blinked and some of the color left her face.

      “You really didn’t know, did you?”

      She shook her head. “The first time I saw him was here at the ranch.”

      “But you weren’t surprised to meet him. Why, Lexie?”

      She stared at him a long moment and Lucas sensed she was close to cracking. Finally, she sighed, moved back to her chair and sat down. “He was a paid bodyguard.”

      Her admission wasn’t really all that surprising. Her obvious distress at having been forced to admit it, however, was. “How long had he been working for you?”

      “He wasn’t working for me, exactly. My family hired him.” Unmistakable anger turned her eyes a darker shade of blue. “Or to be more precise, my father hired him. He made all the arrangements.”

      “What made your father believe you needed the services of a bodyguard?” Lucas studied her face as he waited for her answer and imagined what he’d do to anyone who tried to harm even one hair on her lovely head.

      “There was a kidnapping attempt—” She hesitated. “It was a long time ago. When I was a child.”

      “Tell me about it.”

      “I don’t…remember much. I was very young.”

      “What do you remember?”

      “Not much. My mother died years ago. And my father…well, it’s never been a subject he’s felt inclined to discuss.” Something about the way she said the word father made Lucas want to punch the man.

      “I’ll want to talk to him. To your father.”

      Her laugh was short, dry and completely without humor. “Oh, believe me, you will. In fact, he’s probably tried to reach me this morning at the ranch.”

      Lucas reached for the phone again. “What’s his number?”

      She leaned back in her chair. “I don’t have it with me, but even if I did, you wouldn’t be able to get through.”

      “Why not?”

      She sat forward in her chair. “Because it doesn’t work that way.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “I mean, there’s no way to get through to him. He’s a very…busy man. Lots of meetings. And he travels a lot, too. I wouldn’t know how or where to begin looking for him today.”

      “But you spoke to him yesterday.”

      She nodded. “Yes. That’s why I know he’s undoubtedly tried to reach me today.”

      “If you don’t mind my saying, you seem less than happy by the prospect of talking to your father.”

      She shrugged, but the indifference she seemed to want to portray was undermined by the distinct sadness in her eyes.

      “Are you sure there’s no way to contact him, now? At his office or at home?”

      She gave him a small smile. “Trust me on this one, Lucas. By the time you drive me back to the ranch, His— My father will have left a message instructing me exactly when and where to call.”

      Lucas reached for his hat. “Then let’s go.”

      She nodded and rose to walk ahead of him out of his office, with all the enthusiasm of a woman headed for the gallows.