Las Vegas Nights: At Odds with the Heiress
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“I think you’re a little too desperate for that.” Drawing upon a fifteen-year acting career, Scarlett slapped on a winning smile and stood. “I may not be your first choice for this project, but I’m what you’re going to get.”
“Fine.”
Logan got to his feet and towered over her. “I’ll drop Madison off this afternoon at your office. Say, around one?”
“I’ll be waiting.” She moved away, eager to escape his overwhelming presence, but hadn’t taken more than four steps before his hand caught her wrist.
“Thank you.” Logan’s fingers were gentle on her skin.
He’d never touched her before. The contact sizzled through her like lightning. Unnerved by the strength of her reaction, she twisted free with more vigor than necessary. “It’s too late for you to start being nice to me, Logan.”
His deep brown eyes developed a layer of ice. “Fine.”
He scanned her from her messy updo to her hot-pink toenails, missing nothing in between. Her heart thumped like a runner’s feet against the pavement and tension knotted her shoulders. Every time she got within fifty feet of the guy, she turned into an excited teenager with an enormous crush.
And he seemed completely immune.
At six feet two inches tall, the muscled hunk had a commanding presence. He wore his wavy black hair long enough to graze his collar. Bold eyebrows, a strong nose and a square jaw didn’t make him classically handsome, but they combined to produce a face worth staring at. His chiseled lips lingered in her daydreams even though when she was around they were always set in a grim line.
“Can you at least wear something business-y?” he demanded, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “Madison needs to spend time with a professional career woman.”
Holding perfectly still beneath his criticism was challenging as a combination of sizzling heat and disquieting tingles attacked her composure. In a flowing ankle-length dress cut low in front, and strappy gold sandals, Scarlett knew she looked more like a guest of her Las Vegas hotel than the manager.
“I don’t do business-y.” She turned on her four-inch heels and strode out of the office, fleeing from feelings of inadequacy.
With his long legs, Logan had little trouble keeping up. “Surely you have something in your vast wardrobe that looks professional.”
“What makes you think I have a vast wardrobe?”
“In five years I’ve never seen you wear the same thing twice.”
Stunned that he’d noticed what she wore, much less remembered, Scarlett spared him the briefest glance. “I’m flattered that you’ve been paying attention,” she remarked, using her most flirtatious manner to hide her decidedly smitten response to his observation.
“Don’t be. Part of my job as a security expert is to pay attention to details.”
“Well, aren’t you a silver-tongued devil,” she quipped, stepping into the elevator that would take her to the second floor and the skyways that linked the sisters’ three Fontaine hotels.
Logan’s sleeve brushed her bare arm as he reached past her to punch the button for the lobby. As the doors closed, he lingered in her space, awakening her senses to the coiled strength lurking in his muscles.
Before she considered the imprudence of her action, she poked her finger into his firm abs. “You sure know what to say to make a girl feel special.”
She expected him to back off. He’d always kept his distance before. To her shock, he shifted closer. Such proximity to his straightforward masculinity had a disturbing effect on her equilibrium. She had to fight to keep from leaning against him for support.
“Don’t you ever get tired of acting?” he mused, his casual tone not matching the dangerous tension emanating from him.
Gathering a shaky breath, she forced the corners of her mouth upward. “What do you mean, acting?”
“The various women you become to fool men into accepting whatever fantasy you want them to believe.”
Was he referring to the facade she used to keep Logan in the dark about the way he stirred her body and soul? He was completely mad if he believed she was going to give up her one defense against him.
“Don’t you mean the one I use to manipulate them to my will?” she taunted, her breathless tone coming easily under the influence of Logan’s domineering presence.
Scarlett prided herself on being able to read men. Usually it was pretty easy. Most of them enjoyed being powerful and having beautiful women available for their pleasure. Even the ones who appeared as sweet as lambs harbored a little caveman inside them.
Logan didn’t fall neatly into the bucket where she lumped the rest of his gender. He seemed genuinely immune to her wiles and that’s why she provoked him at every opportunity. She was challenged by his lack of physical attraction to her. And in a twisted way, because she knew he’d never step across the line, his indifference gave her the freedom to let her sensuality run free. It was quite liberating.
“One of these days someone is going to see past your flirtation to the truth,” Logan warned, his voice a husky growl.
She arched her eyebrows. “Which is what?”
“That what you need isn’t some tame lapdog.”
“I don’t?”
“No.” Espresso eyes watched her with lazy confidence. “What you need is a man who will barge right past your defenses and drive you wild.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she retorted, struggling to keep her eyes off his well-shaped lips and her mind from drifting into the daydream of being kissed silly by the imposing Logan Wolfe.
“You can lie to yourself all you want,” he said. “But don’t bother lying to me.”
It wasn’t until he captured her fingers that she realized she’d flattened her palm against his rib cage. She tugged to free her hand, but he tightened his grip.
The sexual tension he roused in her went from simmer to roiling boil. “Let me go.”
“You started it.”
She wasn’t completely sure that was true. “What’s gotten into you today?”
His lips kicked up at the corners. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you lose your cool. I like it.”
How had he turned the tables on her in such a short time? She pressed her thighs together, but this action made the ache worse, not better.
What you need is a man who will barge right past your defenses and drive you wild. Thank goodness he’d never find out just how much she liked the sound of that.
“I’m really not interested in what you—”
She never had a chance to finish the thought. Before she guessed his intention, Logan lowered his lips to hers and cut off her denial. Slow and deliberate, his hot mouth moved across hers. Her startled murmur of surprise became a weak moan of surrender as she opened to his tongue slicking over the seam of her lips.
Canting her head to give him better access to her mouth, she slid her fingers into his hair and held on for dear life as her world shifted its orbit. If his intention had been to drive her wild, he achieved his goal in less than three seconds. Every nerve in her body cried out for his touch as he cupped the side of her neck and let his tongue duel with hers.
Scarlett wanted to cry out as she experienced the delicious pleasure of his broad chest crushing her breasts, but he’d stolen her breath. Then the sound of the doors opening reached them both at the same time. Logan broke the kiss. His chest heaved as he sucked in air. Eyes hard and unreadable, he scrutinized her face, cataloging every crack running through her composure. Scarlett felt as exposed as if she’d stepped into her casino wearing only her underwear.
Breathless, she asked, “Did that feel like acting?”
His hands slid away from her in a slow, torturous caress. He stepped back, used his foot to block the doors from closing and gestured her toward the hallway beyond the elevator.
One dark eyebrow lifted. “Needs more investigating before I can say one way or another.”
Two
While his brain throbbed with questions he couldn’t answer, Logan drove his black Escalade down Fontaine Ciel’s parking ramp and sped toward Wolfe Security. The taste of Scarlett lingered on his tongue. The bitter bite of strong coffee. The sweetness of the sugar he’d licked off the corner of her mouth from the Danish she’d eaten.
July sunshine ricocheted off car windows and punished his vision. Despite the sunglasses perched on his nose, he squinted. Even though it was only a little after nine in the morning, it was already too damn hot. He tugged at his collar and turned the SUV’s air conditioner on full blast. Sweat made his shirt cling to him beneath his suit coat. Okay, maybe not all the heat bombarding him came from the temperature outside. Beneath his skin, his blood raged, fierce and unquenchable.
Kissing Scarlett had been a huge mistake. Colossal. If he’d had it bad for her before she’d pressed that sensational body of hers against him, he was now completely obsessed. But it was never going to go any further.
Needs more investigating...
What the hell was wrong with him? Giving her a taste of her own tricks had backfired. Not only had he promised to kiss her again, he’d also revealed that he was interested in pursuing her.
He slammed on his brakes and cursed as an out-of-towner cut him off. His phone buzzed. He cued the Escalade’s Bluetooth and answered.
“Got your message about Tiberius,” Lucas Wolfe said. The poor connection and background noise made his brother hard to understand. “Sorry to hear the old guy’s dead.”
“I just left the Fontaine sisters. Violet’s pretty shaken up.”
“I’m sorry for Violet,” Lucas muttered. “Did you get a chance to ask her about Tiberius’s files?”
Impatience gusted through Logan. “Geez, Lucas. The guy just died.”
“And if those files come to light a lot of people both in Vegas and beyond are at risk of having their lives ruined. She could be in danger.”
Logan’s twin had spent too many years in army intelligence. Lucas saw enemies around every corner. Well, he’d been right to worry on some occasions, maybe even this one. How much dirt could Tiberius Stone have collected over the course of fifty years? In a town dubbed Sin City? A lot.
Logan cursed. “Do you really think they exist?”
“I think he’s the J. Edgar Hoover of Vegas.”
“I never found any sign of anything in his computers.” When Lucas had first gotten wind of Stone’s proclivity for information gathering, Logan had hacked into the man’s work and personal computers.
“He’s old-school,” Lucas said. “I’m pretty sure he kept paper copies of everything.”
Logan pondered how much information there could be and imagined a large room lined with file cabinets. Where the hell had the old guy stored his papers? The location would have to be secure and accessible. Logan considered. If the data was digital, Wolfe Security would have been the perfect place to keep the information. They had a number of secure servers that their clients used for their most sensitive documents.
“When are you coming back to the States?” Logan asked.
Lucas was in Dubai meeting with a sheikh who had a museum’s worth of treasure and art that he wanted displayed in his various homes around the world. The challenge came from his desire for the security to be unobtrusive as well as unbreakable.
“Not sure yet.” Lucas’s tone darkened. “This job is a lot more complex than I first thought.”
“And the daughter?”
“Distracting.”
Laughing, Logan hung up with his brother and dialed Violet. He wasn’t surprised when the call rolled to voice mail. He left a message asking her to call him back. After that, he put in a couple hours before heading home to have lunch with his niece and break the news that her vacation was officially over.
He found Madison by the pool, her bikini-clad body soaking up the hot Las Vegas sun. She’d isolated herself with a gossip magazine and a pair of headphones and wasn’t aware Logan had approached until his shadow fell across her.
“Hey, Uncle Logan, what are you doing home?”
“I thought I’d take you to lunch and then to meet a woman I know.”
The resentful expression she’d had since arriving in town three days ago immediately lifted. She leaned forward eagerly. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Way to go, Uncle Logan.”
“I’m not seeing her.” The kiss flashed through his mind. “She’s just someone who has agreed to show you what running a hotel is like.”
“Boring.” Madison sagged back against the lounge. “When are you and my parents going to realize that I don’t want to be stuck in a stupid office? I want to be an actress.”
“Your parents are concerned that you haven’t explored all the options available to you.”
“Like they want me to explore my options. They want me to go to the college of their choice and major in business or get a law degree and become just like them. It’s not what I want.”
“I didn’t know what I wanted at your age.”
She smirked as if he’d just made her point. “That’s not true. Mom said you spent all your free time messing with your computers. And you started that security software company by the time you were twenty. You were a multimillionaire before you even graduated.”
“But I still graduated.”
“Whatever. The point is, you were successful because you were really good with computers and it’s what you loved to do, not because you have a master’s in design engineering.”
Logan glared at her. No wonder her parents had shipped her off to him. Bringing her into line with “because I said so” wasn’t going to work on an intelligent, determined young woman like Madison.
“Fine, but I still graduated from college.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “Face it, kid, for the next month, you’re stuck with me and my opinion on what’s best for you. Go shower and I’ll take you to my favorite restaurant.”
Forty minutes later they slid into a booth at Luigi’s. Madison stared around her in disgust.
“This is a pizza place.”
“Not just any pizza place. They have the best Italian food outside of Italy.”
“I thought you were going to take me somewhere nice.”
“This is nice.”
She rolled her eyes at him. Once they’d ordered, Madison leaned her arms on the table and began to grill him.
“Who is this woman you’re dumping me on?”
“Scarlett Fontaine. She runs Fontaine Richesse. You’ll like her. She used to be an actress.”
Madison’s blue eyes narrowed. “Used to be? As in she failed at it, so now she can tell me what a huge mistake I’m making if I don’t go to college?”
“Used to be. As in she now she runs a billion-dollar hotel and casino.”
And did a pretty good job at it. Or at least she’d hired people who knew what they were doing.
“What is she, fifty?” Madison scoffed. “There’s plenty of time for me to come up with a backup plan in case acting doesn’t pan out.”
“She’s thirty-one.” It startled him to realize he knew how old she was. And that her next birthday was a month away.
“So young? Why’d she give up so fast?”
“I’m assuming because she was offered the chance of a lifetime.”
“Running a hotel?”
“One of Las Vegas’s premier hotels.”
But Madison looked unconvinced. “She’s nothing more than a quitter.”
“That’s not how I would characterize her.”
Forty-five minutes later, they entered Scarlett’s hotel and crossed to the elevators that would take them to the executive offices on the third floor. When the doors opened, Logan was startled by the man who stepped out. He and John Malcolm exchanged a quick greeting before the lawyer headed off.
Puzzling over the presence of Tiberius Stone’s lawyer in Scarlett’s hotel, Logan absently pointed Madison toward the restroom and told her where to find him when she was done. Seconds later, he entered Scarlett’s office and caught her sitting behind her desk, full lips pursed, her attention on her computer monitor. Logan noticed immediately that she’d changed her clothes. Now she was wearing a sleeveless lime blouse with a ruffled front that drew attention to her full breasts and showed off her toned arms. She’d left her long hair down and it spilled across her shoulders in a honey-streaked brown curtain that made his fingers itch to slide through it. He sunk the treacherous digits into his pocket and strolled up to her desk.
“I didn’t realize you and Tiberius shared a lawyer,” he said, skipping a more traditional hello.
She stood up when he spoke. Instinctively he appreciated how the slim black skirt skimmed her lean hips. The outfit was sexy and professional, a delectable one-two punch to his gut.
“We don’t.” She fetched a manila envelope from her desk. “He brought me this. It’s from Tiberius.”
“What’s in it?”
Surprise flickered in her green eyes at his sharp tone. “I haven’t opened it yet. It’s probably just something he wrote to say goodbye. He was a great guy. I wasn’t as close to him as Violet, but we hung out a lot. He gave me the inside scoop on this town. Who I could trust. Who to watch out for.” Abruptly she stopped speaking. Cocked her head. “Why are you so curious?”
“Tiberius collected information on people.” Logan wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell her. Damn the wily old man and his insatiable curiosity.
“What sort of information?”
“Secrets.”
Her eyes widened. “Dirt?” She turned the envelope over in her hand. When she glanced up and caught his gaze on her, her throaty laugh erupted. “And you think he had something on me.” Not a question. A statement. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have a closet filled with skeletons just waiting to be exposed.” She sobered and leveled a sharp glance his way. “Are you this cynical about everyone or just me?”
“Everyone.”
“Not Harper and not Violet.” Her tone was mild enough, but accusations shimmered in her eyes. “You trust them.”
Meaning, he didn’t trust her. Well, he didn’t. She was a professional actress whose talent for role play spilled into her personal life. He had a hard time reading her and that made him suspicious of everything she said or did.
“They’ve never given me a reason not to trust them.” His mother would scold him for such a blunt statement. She’d raised both her boys to treat women with gentleness and respect. It was just that Scarlett’s wicked eyes and secretive smile got under his skin.
“What have I ever done to you?”
She had him there. His prejudice against her stemmed from the way she affected him. Was it fair to blame her for the way his skin prickled when she brushed against him? Or how the scent of her, light and floral, made his heart slam against his ribs? Or the way his blood flowed hot and carnal through his veins at the sexy sway of her hips as she sauntered through her hotel.
“It’s not what you’ve done.” He bit off each word. “It’s because you like to play games.”
Amusement sparkled in her eyes. “Games can be fun.”
Besieged by provocative images of her dressed in black lingerie and thigh-high boots, armed with a riding crop, he swallowed hard. Around the same time she’d shown up in Las Vegas, an episode of a popular crime series had aired. She’d done a guest spot where she’d played the owner of a fantasy club. Ever since he’d seen her on that show, the erotic snapshot had a habit of popping into his head at the most inopportune times.
“I don’t play games.” Annoyance made his voice gruff.
“Then what would you call that kiss in the elevator?” A challenge flared in her expression. “You kissed me to make a point. How is that not playing games?”
Rather than admit that he’d kissed her because he’d been unable to control his longing to do so, Logan countered with, “What point was I trying to make?”
* * *
While Logan awaited her answer with eyebrows raised, Scarlett kicked herself for letting him get to her again. Why couldn’t they have a civilized conversation? Okay, she admitted, it was fun to get him all riled up. More so now that she knew that frustrating him led to impulsive kisses. Hot, passionate ones. What would happen if she really exasperated him? Anticipation quivered through her.
She blew out a breath. “That I need a man like you in my life.” To her delight, she’d surprised him.
“That’s not why I kissed you.”
“Sure it is. And I quote—‘What you need is a man who will barge right past your defenses and drive you wild.’ Isn’t that what you were trying to do when you kissed me?”
Lips tight, he stared at her for a long minute. “I was demonstrating my point, not auditioning for the job.”
While her heart hopped wildly in her chest, she gave what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “Too bad because you gave a great performance.”
Stoic, Logan crossed his arms and indicated the envelope Scarlett held. “Do you know what Tiberius sent you?”
His grave question brought her back to her earlier musings.
“Not yet. Why are you so interested?”
“Lucas thinks Tiberius might have left Violet the files he gathered through the years.” Logan shifted his gaze from the envelope to her eyes. “I think he might have left them to you.”
“Me?” She glanced at the package in her hand, but her surprise didn’t last long. “I suppose that makes sense. We shared a love of Las Vegas history. If his files go back to the fifties, there are probably all sorts of great stories that never made it into the history books.” The thought excited her. “It’ll make a great addition to my Mob Experience exhibit.”
“It’s dangerous for you to have those files.”
Was that concern turning down Logan’s lips and putting a dent in his forehead? She struggled to keep delight from taking over her expression. “Dangerous how?”
“A lot of powerful people have secrets they’d like to keep buried.”
This was getting better and better. “I’ll bet they would.”
He looked none too pleased at her enthusiasm. “Up until now the existence of the files has been nothing but speculation. If anyone gets wind that you have them, someone might decide to come after them.” Logan exhaled impatiently. “You might get hurt.”
“You’re worried about me.” Nothing could have prevented her giant smile. “That’s so sweet.”
He actually growled. “Just because you and I don’t get along doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to you.”
“We could get along just fine if you’d stop fighting your feelings for me.”
“If you’re referring to that kiss in the elevator—”
“That oh-so-steamy kiss in the elevator,” she corrected with a smug smile. “And you never did answer my question. Was I acting?”
He regarded her without expression and said nothing.
“Maybe another demonstration would clear up your doubts.” She reached out and ran her fingers down his tie.
He snatched her hand in his, eyes blazing. “Damn it, Scarlett.”
Before he could complete his thought, a young woman appeared in the doorway. “Hello. I’m Madison.”
“Scarlett Fontaine.” It was tough taking her eyes off Logan’s stormy expression, but she managed. “Nice to meet you,” she said, moving out from behind her desk.
“Logan told me all about you.”
Amusement twitched Scarlett’s lips into a smile. “Really?” She caught his unrelenting gaze and drawled, “All about me?”
Logan gave her a tight nod. “I told her that you’d been an actress.”
“Not just an actress,” she corrected with dramatic flare sure to annoy him. “A star.”
“Really?” Now Madison looked interested. “I don’t recall seeing you in anything.”
Scarlett’s smile turned wry. “You probably wouldn’t recognize me. I was fifteen when the show ended. But for five crazy years I was Hilary of That’s Our Hilary.”
“I don’t think I ever saw that. Have you been on anything since?”
“Guest appearances here and there. A short-running cable show.” Scarlett glanced Logan’s way and saw that he was scowling at her again. Honestly. What had she done now to earn his disfavor? To distract him, she gave him the envelope. “Here, maybe seeing what’s inside will keep you from being so cranky.”