Las Vegas Nights: At Odds with the Heiress
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Madison was seated on the couch in the family room as Logan walked past. Beside her was the boy she’d been seeing a great deal of, Trent something, the son of one of Scarlett’s restaurant managers. She’d been instrumental in introducing the teenagers, which had naturally made Logan suspicious of the boy. But a phone call to one of his employees had provided the sort of information on Trent that kept Logan from getting overprotective.
Currently they were joined at the hip and shoulder, both peering at the laptop balanced on the boy’s lap. Madison’s happy smile was the first he’d seen in this house. It lifted his spirits.
“Hi, Uncle Logan.”
“Hello, Madison. Trent.” Logan gave the boy a friendly nod. “Madison, are you planning on sticking around for dinner?”
“Yes. Is it okay if Trent joins us?”
“The more the merrier.”
Logan left them and headed to the master bedroom. As badly as he wanted to know what they were looking at on the computer, he left his question unasked. The boy was a good kid. Spending time with him improved Madison’s attitude.
And all the credit belonged to Scarlett. Instead of lecturing the eighteen-year-old about what would be the best thing for her to do, Scarlett had talked with her. Let Madison express her dreams and ambitions and found a way to broach the topic of college in a positive fashion. By introducing her to kids her own age who were college-bound and excited about it, Madison had started talking about college again. Granted, with little enthusiasm, but he shouldn’t expect miracles.
If Scarlett actually pulled this off, he would owe her a favor. The thought of it made him shudder. What would she ask in return? Something difficult for him to deliver, no doubt.
After a half hour of energetic laps in the pool, he showered and headed back toward the kitchen. To his amusement, Madison had chosen to host her new friend in the dining room. She’d had his housekeeper, Mrs. Sanchez, set the table with all the crystal and fine china. Usually, Logan grabbed a plate and headed into his study to work on whatever he’d left hanging throughout the day. When Madison was home, he made an effort to give her a stable family experience and ate in the kitchen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d used his dining room.
Logan sat down at the head of the table and waited only until the teenagers had joined him before launching into his interrogation.
“Madison tells me you are going to be a sophomore next fall,” he said to Trent, determined to get his money’s worth out of his housekeeper’s roast beef with garlic mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus. “What college do you attend?”
“I’m at Duke.”
Logan turned to Madison. “Didn’t your mother tell me you’d gotten into Duke?” Maybe she liked this boy well enough to follow him to college in North Carolina. Her parents would be thrilled.
“Yes.” She leveled a warning stare at him. “I also got into Brown University, Cornell and Mother’s alma mater, Amherst.” All prestigious East Coast schools.
“Wow.” Trent gaped at her in astonishment. Apparently she hadn’t shared her academic triumphs with him. “That’s impressive.”
“I guess.” She was so obviously glum about it that for the first time Logan felt sorry for her.
“You guess?” Trent asked. “I applied to Brown and Cornell and couldn’t get in.”
She had the grace to look a little ashamed of her attitude. “All I mean is that none of those were schools I wanted to get into. I didn’t get into my top choice.”
This was the first he’d heard of a college she hadn’t been able to get into. Was that why she’d been acting out all spring? Paula and Ran had pushed hard to get her to apply to schools they considered suitable. Madison’s two older brothers were at Harvard and Yale, respectively. Could she have felt too much pressure?
“What school could possibly have turned you down?”
Logan held very still, hoping that Madison would forget he was sitting across from her and keep talking. He might be able to get her back on track if he understood why she derailed.
Madison waved one slender hand. Her expression had gone mulish again. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t get in and I have no interest in going to any school my parents badgered me into applying to.”
Trent was smart enough to realize he’d hit a nerve and rather than continue to pursue what was obviously a touchy subject, he stuffed a forkful of Mrs. Sanchez’s excellent food into his mouth and chewed with relish. Madison pushed beef around her plate and seemed preoccupied with her thoughts.
Logan applied himself to his own dinner and pondered what he’d learned tonight. Madison wasn’t opposed to going to college, she just didn’t want to go to any of the ones her parents had encouraged her to apply for. And she’d been disappointed after putting all her hopes in one basket and losing out.
Perhaps if Paula and Ran could let Madison make her own choice about where she went, she could be college-bound in the fall. He would call Paula and talk it over with her in the morning.
* * *
Scarlett sat on the overstuffed chair in her bedroom, her feet tucked beneath her, and stared out the window. While Harper and Violet had chosen to occupy suites that overlooked the Strip, Scarlett preferred a view of the mountains that circled Las Vegas. During the cooler months, she enjoyed hiking the trails in nearby Red Rock Park. The peace and quiet was a nice change from the constant activity around the hotel.
It was an hour before she was supposed to meet Logan for dinner, and she still needed to jump in the shower and get ready. She’d finished her day at six so she could get back to her suite and have plenty of time to prepare, but she’d spent the past hour sitting and daydreaming.
No. That wasn’t true. She was waiting. Waiting for Logan to call and cancel their date.
She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and frowned. Surely he wasn’t the sort of man to stand a girl up at the last minute. He was far too honorable for that. Her stomach gave a queer lurch. Was it possible he wasn’t going to cancel on her? Scarlett jumped to her feet. She only had an hour to get ready. What had she been thinking to wait so long?
Her cell rang as she reached the bathroom door. If she didn’t answer Logan’s call, was their date officially canceled? She shuffled back to the dresser she’d passed and scooped up the phone. To her relief, it wasn’t Logan.
“Bobby,” she exclaimed. She hadn’t spoken with the television producer in over six months. “What a lovely surprise.”
“Scarlett, L.A. misses you.” Over the phone Bobby McDermott came across as staccato and abrupt, but in person, he was a warmhearted teddy bear. “You must come home.”
Her heart twisted in fond melancholy, but she kept her voice light. “Las Vegas is home these days.”
“Bah. You’re an actress, not a hotel manager.”
“I used to be an actress.” She thought back over yesterday’s conversation with Logan. “At least when I got work, which wasn’t often.”
“You are a wonderful actress. You just weren’t getting offered the right parts.”
She couldn’t argue with him there. What she wouldn’t have given for a role with some meat. Something that scared her a little and forced her to stretch. She’d never been a fame hound, although with her sex appeal and early success, she was well-known to the gossip magazines and paparazzi.
“That’s why I’m calling,” Bobby continued. “I have something you’d be perfect for.”
Scarlett sighed. She’d heard that before. Bobby had brought her numerous opportunities, but his opinion of her talent always seemed to clash with those of his directors. Still, it was nice having someone of his stature in her corner even if she never did get the part.
“I’m really happy here, Bobby.”
“Nonsense. You’re an actress. You need to act.” The producer switched tacks. “At least come to L.A. and take a meeting.”
“There’s no point. I’m committed to staying here and managing the hotel.” She didn’t explain about her grandfather’s contest or the pride she felt for all she’d accomplished in the past five years. “You’re a darling for thinking of me, though.”
“I’m going to send you the script,” Bobby continued, ignoring her refusal. When he had his mind set on something, it took an act of God for him to change direction. “Don’t make any decisions until you’ve read it through.”
Knowing it was dangerous to open the door even a crack, she nevertheless heard herself say, “I’d be happy to give it a read. But I can’t promise anything.”
“You will once you’ve finished. Gotta run. Love you.”
She barely had a chance to say goodbye before Bobby hung up. Stewing in a disorderly mash of dread and excitement, Scarlett quickly showered and dressed. At seven forty-five, a knock sounded on her door. Her hair was still up in hot rollers and she hadn’t finished applying her makeup. Cursing Logan’s early arrival, Scarlett quickly stripped out the rollers and shook out her hair. A second knock sounded on her door, this one more insistent, and she raced to answer it.
“You’re early,” she declared as she threw open the door. But instead of Logan, a man in a ski mask stood at her door. “Who—?”
Before she could finish, his fist connected with her jaw. She saw stars. Then darkness.
Six
With each hour that passed, Logan found himself growing more impatient for the evening ahead. By the time six-thirty rolled around he was positively surly, or at least that’s what his executive assistant had called him. Then Madison had complained about his bad temper when he’d arrived home.
Now, as he negotiated the eastbound traffic back to Fontaine Richesse, his mood perked up alarmingly. Damn it. He was looking forward to spending the evening with her. To seeing what sort of delectable outfit she’d prepared for him. To letting her steal food off his plate and wheedle out of him intimate details about his life. Why had he agreed to have dinner with her? He should have insisted on meeting her at her office during the regular workday when he wouldn’t be tempted to linger for a nightcap in her suite.
A nightcap that might lead him to forget how quickly she turned on the charm. He would find himself seducing her and believing it was his idea. He’d have her naked and writhing beneath him before he realized she’d orchestrated the entire event. He simply couldn’t let her manipulate him that way.
By the time he arrived at Fontaine Richesse, he was running five minutes late. He dialed Scarlett’s cell, but she didn’t pick up. That was odd. She was rarely beyond arm’s reach of her phone. Driven by an irresistible sense of urgency, Logan’s pace quickened as he made his way through the casino. By the time the elevator deposited him on Scarlett’s floor, he was deeply concerned at her lack of response.
Rounding the corner to her suite, he noticed the door was wide-open. When he spied her on the floor, he ran the rest of the way down the hall. He entered her suite just as she lifted a hand to her jaw and opened her eyes. He knelt at her side as she groaned in discomfort.
“What happened?” he demanded, his throat constricting as he surveyed her for damage.
“I answered the door and a man hit me.” She sounded bewildered and weak.
“What did he look like?”
“He was wearing a ski mask.” She blinked in disbelief. “All I remember is that his hand shot out. Then everything went black.”
“How long ago?” Logan dialed the Fontaine Richesse’s security office.
“It was quarter to eight. Someone knocked. I thought it was you at the door.” Her gaze found his. “I was mad at you for showing up early. My hair wasn’t done and I hadn’t finished putting on my makeup.”
“You look beautiful,” he told her brusquely.
A voice came on the line and Logan quickly outlined what had happened. Security would call the police and get working on tracking the guy who’d broken in. A man in a black windbreaker and jeans would be a challenge to find in a hotel as large as Richesse.
As soon as he hung up, he scooped Scarlett into his arms and headed toward her bedroom.
“No!” She tugged at his suit coat to get his attention. “Not in there...”
“I’m not planning on taking advantage of you.”
“I had trouble deciding what to wear tonight, so...” She stared at him, her green eyes dazed. “Logan Wolfe, did you just make a joke?”
He raised his eyebrows in answer. “Where would you like me to put you down?”
“The couch would be fine. And then if you wouldn’t mind getting me the package of lima beans that’s in the freezer.”
“Lima beans?” He eased her down on the sofa and settled a pillow behind her head.
“I happen to like lima beans.”
“No one likes lima beans.”
“Not even someone as health-conscious as you?”
“Not even me.” He brought her the package of frozen beans and gently applied it to her bruised jaw. “Where’s your ibuprofen?”
“In the kitchen cabinet to the right of the sink.”
He fetched the pills and brought her a glass of water. Her gaze tracked his movements as warily as a cat watching a large dog who’d invaded her territory. Snatching a throw off a nearby chair, he spread it over her legs. A part of him realized he was fussing over her, but he needed to act. And since charging out into the night in search of her assailant wasn’t an option, seeing to her comfort made him feel as if he was accomplishing something.
“Nothing in here looks disturbed. Do you keep your valuables locked away?”
“I have a safe for my jewelry. There really isn’t much else of value here.” She glanced toward the dining room table. “The files.”
He followed her gaze. “The ones you took from the storage unit?” From where he stood he could see that the box was still on the table, but the number of files looked smaller. “Some are missing.”
“Which ones?”
She swung her feet off the sofa and started getting to her feet. Before she’d fully straightened, her body swayed. Logan caught her around the waist and drew her against him. Her head found his shoulder as she leaned more fully into him.
“Slow down.” He should have immediately deposited her back on the couch, but the feel of her, soft and yielding against him, was too appealing. His palm rode her strong spine up and down.
“I have to know which ones are missing. What if the information about Harper gets out? I need to tell her what I discovered.”
“Nothing can be done about that at this second. You were hit hard enough to black out. I think you should go to the hospital.”
“There’s no need for that.”
Before Logan could argue further, a hard knock sounded on her door.
“Sit. We’ll discuss the hospital as soon as you make a report to security and the police.”
“I’m not going.”
Grinding his teeth at her stubbornness, Logan resettled Scarlett on the sofa and went to let in Security.
* * *
By the time she’d given her statement and her suite had been dusted for prints, Scarlett’s agitation had reached an acute stage. Logan’s presence calmed her anxiety at having her privacy so roughly violated. The package of frozen lima beans had helped numb her jaw, but nothing could ease her worry over the missing files.
The thief had taken the files for Harper and her mother, Scarlett and their grandfather. In addition, although she hadn’t yet looked through the files that had originally been in the box, Scarlett thought two of those might be missing, as well.
“I really couldn’t have gotten through this without you,” she told Logan after he’d walked the uniformed officers to the door.
“You needed me. I was here.”
And now she sensed he wished he were elsewhere. Whether to chase down the man who’d stolen the files or just to be on his way, Scarlett wasn’t sure.
“I suppose you need to get home.”
Inwardly she cringed at the obvious reluctance in her voice. Sure, he’d been acting solicitous and protective, but that was how he’d treat any damsel in distress. She shouldn’t take it personally. No matter how wonderful it felt to have him hold her in his arms and treat her as if she were made of the finest porcelain.
“I called Madison to let her know where I was and sent one of my guys over to keep an eye on her.”
“I’m sure she’ll love that,” Scarlett retorted, her skeptical tone masking her need to snuggle against his powerful chest and take comfort from the strength of his arms around her. For such a hard, unyielding man, he’d demonstrated he could also be gentle. She found the combination both calmed and excited her.
“He’ll watch the house from the road. She’ll never know.”
His somber words caused her uneasiness to spike. “Do you think she’s in danger?”
“No.” The single word came out too fast and too sharp.
Scarlett didn’t find his frown reassuring. “I don’t believe you.”
“Until we know what’s going on, I prefer not to take chances.”
“We should probably let Violet and Harper know what happened.”
“Already done.” He’d been busy while she’d been telling her story to the police. “They will call you tomorrow.”
“I guess there’s nothing left for me to do, then.” Her statement hung in the air between them. She needed him to stay but couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Huddling deeper into the throw wrapped around her shoulders, she waited for him to leave.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to remain here alone tonight.”
Her stomach flipped. Usually he was no more willing to offer his help than she was likely to ask for it. The change in his attitude made him more dangerous than a hundred ski-mask-wearing intruders.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine if I don’t invite anyone in.” She tried to compel her lips into a reassuring smile but couldn’t.
Logan assessed her and his expression grew more determined. “Nevertheless, I’m going to stay.”
She’d already let him take control of the situation. In fact, she’d enjoyed having him in charge. But letting him know how desperate she was for his company could give him the advantage in the future.
“Fine,” she said, her manner grudging. “I don’t have the energy to kick you out anyway.”
His lips quirked. “You’re welcome.”
“The guest room is made up if you want to use that for what’s left of the night.”
“The couch will be fine.”
“Because you don’t want to get too comfortable in my suite?”
“Because if anyone is getting back in, they’re coming through that door.” He gestured over his shoulder toward the door to the hallway.
Scarlett shivered. The idea that the robber might come back was unnerving. Suddenly it was hard for her to breathe. She began to feel dizzy and set her forehead against her knees. A quiver passed through her as the anxiety she’d bottled up these past couple of hours refused to stay contained a second longer.
“Scarlett.” Logan knelt beside her. His large hand was warm and reassuring against her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She sat up straight and dashed away the wetness on her cheek.
He exhaled impatiently. “Will you stop trying to act like nothing is wrong when it’s obvious you’re upset?”
“Of course I’m upset.” She let her temper flare. It terrified her to let down her guard around him. “Shouldn’t I be? I was attacked and whatever the thief took tonight might have damaging consequences for my family.”
“Right now what you need is sleep.” He held out his hand.
His suggestion made sense, but she didn’t move. It was far nicer to be in the same room where she could be comforted by his reassuring strength. But telling him that would give him too much insight into how she thought.
“You’re sending me to bed?” She let him pull her up and forced a mocking smile. “Most men would be escorting me there.”
“Then most men are jerks for taking advantage of you in such a vulnerable state.”
Vulnerable? If that’s how he saw her, she’d given far too much away tonight. “Most men can’t help themselves. They find me irresistible.”
“That’s a pretty powerful feeling for you, isn’t it?”
She set her hand on her hip, a trace of spunk returning. “What’s wrong with feeling powerful?”
“Not a thing. Unless you have to be that way all the time.”
“I don’t.” But she was lying. Being strong was how she’d survived being a child star and how she’d struggled back from the dark years of partying too much and falling once too often for the wrong guy. “There’s nothing that I can do right in your eyes, is there?”
She turned away before the longing to throw herself at him grew too strong to resist. Her feet felt heavy and sluggish as she crossed the living room. With each step she took, her heartbeat slowed. She hoped he’d come after her, sweep her into his arms and carry her the rest of the way to her bed. When that didn’t happen, she closed her bedroom door and left a trail of clothes to mark her passage. Naked, she fell into bed.
But the weariness that dragged on her limbs didn’t reach her mind. Scarlett lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, and turned the theft of the files over and over in her head. Had the thief taken them without seeing what they were because he was in a hurry? Or had he broken in specifically because he wanted something that was in them?
She’d gone through her family’s files a dozen times. The only damaging item was the fact that Harper’s father wasn’t Ross Fontaine, and Scarlett couldn’t imagine Penelope hiring someone to steal the files. It had to be something else. What had she missed?
Closing her eyes, Scarlett sifted through the contents of her father’s file, but all she got for her efforts was an increased throbbing in her head. Ross had been a rotten husband, but that wasn’t exactly a huge secret. He’d preferred his women young and single so there weren’t any jealous husbands. And he’d been more ham-fisted than ruthless in running Fontaine Hotels and Resorts to have made any enemies among the other hotel owners in Las Vegas.
Scarlett just couldn’t see why the guy had wanted the files. And then she recalled the rest of what was in the box. Caught up in the drama surrounding her family, she’d only glanced through the other files once.
Most of the material had been about Tiberius’s brother-in-law, Preston Rhodes, the current chairman of the board and CEO of Stone Properties, which was headquartered in Miami, Florida. Like Fontaine Hotels and Resorts, Stone Properties owned hotel and resort properties all over the world.
Scarlett had once asked Tiberius why he didn’t work for the company his father had founded and learned how his brother-in-law had schemed to get Tiberius kicked out of the family business so he could take over.
No surprise, then, that Preston had never set foot in Las Vegas. Stone Properties had one hotel on the Strip: Titanium. Run by JT Stone, Tiberius’s nephew and namesake, the five-star hotel sat several blocks north of the trio of Fontaine hotels.
An hour ticked by, bringing her no closer to sleep. Logan’s presence in the living room was far too distracting. At last she got up and slipped into a hot-pink cotton lounge set. She stood with her hand on the doorknob for a few minutes, debating what excuse she’d use for wanting his company. In the end it didn’t matter because when she reached the living room, Logan was nowhere to be found.
Her disappointment was difficult to ignore as she headed into the kitchen for a bottle of water. Instead of drinking it, she set the cool bottle against her still-aching jaw. The coolness washed through her and without warning, tears sprang to her eyes. Normally she’d blink them away and shove down her unhappiness. Never show weakness. She’d learned that early in Hollywood. But being abandoned by Logan was too much on top of everything else she’d gone through tonight.
As the tears began working their way down her cheeks, the door to her suite opened. Heart pounding in sudden alarm, Scarlett was too overcome by panic to move. When Logan stepped into view, she was awash in relief.
“You came back.”