Las Vegas Nights: At Odds with the Heiress

Violet grinned. “You and Logan?”

“Apparently he thinks the files are too dangerous for me to have.” Scarlett ignored her younger sister’s smug look. “The files are all he’s interested in.”

“I’m sure.” But Violet didn’t look the least bit convinced.

“Is it weird that he gave them to you?” Harper asked.

“Maybe.” Scarlett rolled her empty glass between her palms. She’d consumed the two drinks too fast. Her head felt light. Her blood hummed through her veins. “Tiberius and I talked a lot about Vegas history. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be opening the Mob Experience exhibit next month. He gave me the idea, encouraged me to pursue it and most of the items on display were either things he’d collected or were donated by people he knew.”

“He loved that you listened to his stories,” Violet said. “I was more interested in the future than the past.”

“I was fascinated.” Scarlett’s throat closed up. “He brought Las Vegas to life for me.”

Seeing Violet struggling with her sadness, Scarlett wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulder. Five years earlier, when she’d found out she had two half sisters living in Las Vegas, Scarlett had worried they would be angry that she’d been included in Henry’s contest to decide who the future CEO of Fontaine Resorts would be. After all, what did she know about running a hotel or a multibillion-dollar corporation? But to her delight, they were as excited about having her in Las Vegas as she was to be there.

“How did it go with your mom today?” Scarlett asked.

“About as you’d expect.” Violet offered a wan smile. “She’s taking it hard.”

Tiberius might not have been Suzanne Allen’s first love, but he was her longest and best. Even though she’d never married the hotel owner, she’d lived with him for twenty years.

“Was she any help with the funeral arrangements?” Harper quizzed, dropping her hand over Violet’s and giving a sympathetic squeeze.

“You know my mother. She can’t make decisions on the best days.” Violet gave a wry smile.

“Do you have a date for the funeral?” Scarlett asked.

“Not yet.”

Harper frowned. “That’s strange.”

“Not so strange,” Violet said. She heaved a giant sigh. “There’s something I haven’t told you. There’s something suspicious about Tiberius’s death.”

“Suspicious?” Scarlett echoed, goose bumps popping out on her arms as if someone had touched the back of her neck with an ice cube. Logan’s earlier concerns no longer seemed amusing.

Harper looked as worried as Scarlett felt. “I thought he had a heart attack?”

“He did, but they’re waiting for some toxicology results to come back from the lab. The investigating officer told Mom they think Tiberius’s death might have been from an overdose of digitalis.”

Four

An overdose of digitalis.

The words hung in Scarlett’s mind as she dressed for her “date” with Logan. It had to be accidental. Anything else was preposterous. Who would want to kill an old man? Someone who had something to hide? She shook off the thought. Logan had put crazy ideas in her head. But she couldn’t shake her nerves. And she had lots more than the ticking time bomb Tiberius had left her to worry about. She was about to embark on an entire evening alone with Logan.

Scarlett nearly jumped out of her skin when the knock sounded on her door. She set her lipstick aside and took a breath to settle her racing pulse. Would tonight be all business or would he subject her to another one of those mind-blowing embraces?

There were ways to protect herself from men who wanted to harm her. And where her heart was concerned, Logan had already proven himself a dangerous adversary.

Standing before the door to the hall, she smoothed her palms along her hips. Never had she spent so many hours trying to figure out what a man wanted her to be. In the end, she’d dressed in a pair of skinny black pants and a black blouse with a cap sleeve that bared her arms. With her hair slicked back into a severe bun and tiny pearl earrings as her only jewelry, she was as close to looking professional as she could manage.

Then, because she’d never been good at doing what was expected of her, Scarlett added a pair of heavy black-framed glasses. Now she looked like someone’s sexy secretary. Wrestling her features into a bland expression, she opened the door.

Logan’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of her. “What’s with the getup?”

She slid the glasses down her nose and peered at him over them. “Don’t you think I look professional?”

“You look...fine.”

“Fine? I spent all afternoon searching my closet for something to wear so you wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with me.” She couldn’t resist the taunt.

“I thought you understood I’m not interested in your playacting.”

Scarlett gave him a genuine smile. “Do you really want me to stop?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He gave her a suspicious once-over.

“What happens if you start to like the real me? Where will you be then?” It was a bold sortie, but something about the lick of heat in his eyes told her he wasn’t as immune to her as he’d like her to think.

“Why would you think I’d like the real you?”

“Touché,” she murmured, unfazed by his question. She intrigued him. That much was clear. He wasn’t the sort of man to waste his time if he wasn’t interested. For now, that was enough. “I might not be the best-educated or most suited to run a multibillion-dollar hotel business, but I’ve got my own talent.”

“Such as?”

“I do a pretty good job reading people.”

“I suppose that’s your way of saying you’ve got me all figured out.”

“Not in the least. You’ve always been a hard nut to crack.” She gave him a wry smile. “That’s why you’re so interesting.”

Scarlett grabbed her purse and stepped into the hall. Sharing the space with Logan’s broad shoulders and powerful personality stirred up the butterflies in her stomach. Self-protection told her to give him a wide berth, but Scarlett had never been one to run from her fears. Instead, she linked her arm through his and smiled up at him.

“Where are you taking me for dinner?”

“Paul Rubin’s new place.”

She hummed with pleasure. Romantic and expensive. She never would have guessed Logan had it in him. “I’ve been dying to try it.”

Without commenting, Logan escorted her down the hall. If he’d stuck to his usual pace, Scarlett would have had to trot to keep up. Was he being considerate of her footwear or was whatever weighed on his mind slowing him down?

“Did you know Tiberius’s death has been ruled a homicide?” Logan asked when at last they reached the elevator.

“Last night Violet mentioned that the police thought there was something suspicious about his death.”

“He overdosed on digitalis.”

“Sure, but he was taking that for his heart, right? He just accidentally took too much?” She sounded way too hopeful.

“The digitalis in his system had a different chemical signature than what he was taking. Someone wanted to make it look like an accidental overdose.” Logan regarded her dispassionately. “I hope this convinces you how dangerous these files are to have in your possession.”

“Your concern is touching.” If she gave them up would he remain concerned about her? Scarlett wasn’t willing to find out. “But you have no idea why someone killed Tiberius. For all anyone knows, he might have been the victim of a random crime.”

“Not random. Someone knew he had a bad heart and wanted to make his death look like natural causes.”

“So maybe Tiberius was blackmailing someone. With his death, that stops.”

“Unless that person thinks you are going to pick up where he left off.”

“I’d never do that.”

“I know that, but—”

“You do?” She’d had to interrupt him.

“Of course.” He shot her an exasperated glare. “My opinion of you isn’t as bad as you think.”

“Thank goodness.” She sighed in exaggerated relief, earning still more of his displeasure.

“Do you ever stop acting?”

“Only when you’re kissing me.” She wasn’t sure where she found the courage to speak so boldly, but when his eyes widened with surprise, she was delighted she had.

She lifted her chin and offered him her lips but the elevator doors picked that inopportune moment to open. He growled and dragged her inside.

“If there weren’t cameras in every inch of this hotel, I’d make you prove that statement,” he muttered, jabbing his thumb into the down button.

“We could go back to your place after we check out the storage space,” she offered, every inch of her skin tingling where his gaze touched her. Lowering her voice, she whispered, “Unless you’ve got cameras there for personal use.”

Her innuendo was so outrageous that he laughed. “You have a smart-ass remark for everything, don’t you?”

“A girl learns to stay on her toes in Hollywood. There are a lot of smart people ready to take advantage if you’re not careful.”

“Have you told my niece that?”

Scarlett smiled. “She knows.”

“How are things going with her?”

“We spent the afternoon at the pool.”

“The pool? I thought you understood she’s here to learn about hotel management.”

“Relax,” Scarlett told him. “Every Wednesday I host a fashion show. You know, resort wear, swimsuits. The girls strut around, showing off the clothes we sell at our boutique.”

“And what was Madison wearing?”

“I put her in the tiniest bikini I could find. She had men stuffing tens in the itty bit of string that held it together.”

Logan drew in an enormous breath, preparing to deliver a lengthy tirade outlining all the reasons Scarlett was unsuitable as a mentor, when he noticed the glint in her eyes. She was teasing him. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from strangling her. Or worse. Kissing her.

Her red lips had softened into a slight smile as she watched him. That mouth of hers was going to be his undoing. Whether she was using it to taunt him or yielding to his kisses, he was completely enthralled.

“What was she really doing?”

“I considered putting her in the show, then decided you’d prefer it if I had her emcee the event. She did great. Quite a natural.”

Logan knew he should thank Scarlett for demonstrating some common sense, but anything he said would probably come out wrong.

“She’s done a lot of plays and public speaking,” he said instead, wondering what he could possibly do to keep this exasperating woman from creeping beneath his skin.

“It shows.”

The elevator finally deposited them in the lobby, and Logan escorted Scarlett toward his Escalade parked outside the main entrance.

“You sure like your vehicles big,” she commented, stepping nimbly into the front seat.

“And green. It’s a hybrid.”

“You and Violet.” She gave her head a wry shake. “Made for each other.”

He shut the passenger door harder than necessary and circled the car. She was right. He and Violet shared a like-minded philosophy about lifestyle and work. So why did it bug him that she kept pointing out the fact? It was either a subtle rejection or a defense mechanism.

Defense mechanism, he decided as he slid behind the wheel. There was nothing remotely subtle about Scarlett.

Which meant she had a reason to feel defensive around him. Interesting.

“Any chance you’ve talked Madison into going to college this fall?”

“I’ve had her for a day and a half,” she reminded him. “Give me a little time to gain her trust. Then I can start steering her in the direction of school.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know. How long is it going to take you to trust me?”

Her question startled him. “I don’t know.”

“Give me a ballpark.”

“I don’t know that I ever will.”

“There’s more of that Wolfe charm.” She didn’t look the least bit hurt by his reply. “You should package it and sell it on eBay. You’d make a fortune.”

Her sarcasm rolled off him like water off a newly waxed car. “Don’t ask the sort of questions you won’t like the answer to.”

“You know what I think?” She prodded his arm. “I think you’re going to wake up one day and decide you really like me.”

Did anything faze this woman? “What makes you believe that?”

“Call it women’s intuition.”

“Do you say things like that to annoy me?”

“Most of the time. I love it when you scowl at me. Which is a good thing, since that’s all you ever do.”

“Why would you like that I find you irritating?”

“Because every other man I meet finds me beautiful and desirable. It gets tiresome. Our relationship is completely adversarial and I appreciate knowing where I stand with you.”

“You don’t think I find you beautiful and desirable?”

“I guess you might.” Her expression lacked its usual guile as she watched him. “But if you do it’s secondary to the fact that you don’t like me. I find your honesty refreshing.”

Only, he wasn’t being honest. With her or himself. She disturbed him in a way no other woman had. Which was unfortunate because he didn’t trust her and he would never start a relationship, physical or emotional, with a woman who guarded her secrets as closely as Scarlett Fontaine.

* * *

By the time Scarlett licked the last of the chocolate from her spoon and set it down on the empty dessert plate, she was convinced she’d never enjoyed a meal so much. Part of her delight had been the delicious food, but most of her pleasure had come from her sullen dinner companion.

Logan had been in a foul mood ever since she’d confessed that she found his honesty refreshing. Why that bothered him, she had no idea. Shouldn’t she be the wounded party? He was the one who’d declared he’d never trust her and called her irritating.

“If you wanted dessert,” he growled, “you should have ordered your own.”

“I just wanted a bite.”

“You ate almost all of it.” And she knew he’d enjoyed watching her devour the rich treat.

In fact, she wondered if he’d ordered it for just such a reason. From their dinner conversation, she’d learned that he wasn’t usually one to indulge his sweet tooth. No dairy. Steamed vegetables. Lean meats. Whole grains. His body was both a fortress and a temple.

“Shall we order another one? This time I won’t steal a bite. I promise.”

“It’s getting late. We need to get to the storage unit.” He signaled for the check.

Scarlett was torn. On one hand, she’d love to linger over a cup of coffee and enjoy the thrust and parry of their banter a little longer. On the other, she was tired of having the barrier of the table between them.

Unfortunately, now that dinner was through, the glint faded from Logan’s eye and his features hardened into a professional mask. Sighing in resignation, she let him guide her out of the restaurant and into his SUV. With his focus so far away from her, Scarlett knew the only way to reengage with him was to discuss the purpose behind their dinner tonight. “What sort of secrets to you suppose Tiberius had locked up?” she asked, hoping to jostle him out of his thoughts.

“Dangerous ones.”

His dark tone gave her the shivers. She studied him as the lights of the Strip faded behind them and they entered an area of town where tourists never ventured. Another man might have played up the seriousness of their outing for effect. That wasn’t Logan’s style. He was genuinely troubled and Scarlett was less confident with each mile they drove.

“What do you think I should do?”

“Shred the whole mess.”

Honestly, did the man not watch TV? “That’s not going to help. The killer will assume that I made copies of everything. Or at the very least that I went through all the files and know what Tiberius knew.” Whatever that was.

Logan grunted but didn’t comment.

By the time they arrived at the storage facility, Scarlett had run the murdered-blackmailer plot from a dozen detective shows through her mind. If Tiberius had been killed because of these files, was she in danger? Her stomach churned, making her regret muscling in on Logan’s dessert.

He stopped the SUV in front of Tiberius’s storage unit. “Are you okay?” he asked, noting her expression.

“I’ve played a dead escort and a drowned party girl. I’m not sure I’m ready to play murdered hotel executive.”

“This isn’t television.”

“My point exactly.”

Logan took her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. “No one knows you got the files. You’re going to be fine.”

“This is Las Vegas.” She drew courage from his strength and let the heat of his skin warm away her sudden chill. “There are no secrets in this town.”

“There are thousands of secrets buried here.”

“Did you have to use the word buried?”

With one last squeeze, he set her free. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

“That’s a charming promise, but you’re not around 24/7,” she reminded him. A smile flirted with her lips. “Unless that’s your way of telling me you want to step up our relationship.”

His growl helped restore her sense of humor. She slipped out of the passenger seat and waited in front of the storage unit until Logan joined her. With great ceremony she handed him the key to the lock and stood, barely breathing, while he opened the door and raised it. The musty smell that greeted them was similar to that of a used bookstore.

Logan stepped to the wall and switched on the light. “Damn.”

The stark overhead bulb revealed two walls lined with four-drawer file cabinets, stretching back fifteen feet. Bankers Boxes sat atop the file cabinets and were clustered on pallets on the floor.

Scarlett whistled. “There are eighty-eight drawers of secrets in there, not to mention what’s in the boxes. That’s a lot of dirt.” She glanced Logan’s way and noticed a muscle jumping in his jaw. He hadn’t seemed to hear her, so she nudged him. “Were you expecting this much?”

“No. This is worse than I imagined.”

“It’s going to take us a year to get through all of it.”

Logan turned and blocked her view of the files. “Not us. You need to let me deal with this. It’s too dangerous for you.”

“Tiberius left this to me.” His dictatorial manner was a double-edged sword. She liked his concern for her welfare, but she’d left L.A. because she was tired of being told what to do. “You wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t shown up just as Tiberius’s lawyer was leaving my office.” She wasn’t trying to make him mad, but he had a knack for bringing out her worst side.

For a second he looked irritated enough to manhandle her into his SUV and dump her back at the hotel. He still had the key and she doubted her ability to get it back either through manipulation or force. Her best bet was to convince him they needed to work together.

“Two of us will make the search go faster.” She took a half step forward, expecting him to back up to maintain his personal space. When he didn’t, she splayed her fingers over his rib cage and moved even closer. “Please, can’t we work together?”

Beneath her hands, his abs tightened perceptibly, but he stood as if frozen. “There’s really no way I can stop you, is there?”

It wasn’t exactly an enthusiastic confirmation of their partnership, but she’d take whatever she could get from Logan.

“No, you can’t.” She gave him a smug smile and pushed back, but his hands came up to cup her arms, just above the elbow, keeping her in place.

“I swear, if anything happens to you because of this...” His mouth settled on hers. Hard. Stealing her gasp and replacing it with the demanding thrust of his tongue. The kiss wasn’t calculated or romantic. It was hot, hungry and frantic. Confusion paralyzed her. By the time she recovered enough to react, he’d slid his lips across her cheek. “I would never forgive myself,” he murmured in her ear.

He released her so abruptly she wobbled on her four-inch heels. To her immense relief he spun with military precision and marched into the storage unit without a backward glance. The time required to restore her composure was longer than it should have been. But no man had ever kissed her with such hungry desperation. Or rocked her world so fast.

Smoothing her hands down her hips, Scarlett strode toward the files lining the wall opposite from where Logan was searching. The drawers were unmarked, but when she opened the first one, a quick scan of the folders revealed that they were filled with newspaper clippings, handwritten notes, copies of documents and an assortment of photos. A more thorough review indicated each bit of information came from individuals associated with the long-demolished Sands casino.

It seemed as if Tiberius had something on every employee going back to when the casino opened. Not all of it was incriminating. Some of the information merely consisted of impressions he’d recorded upon meeting the person. But there were thick folders on several others, including some legendary performers.

“This is amazing.” She turned with a file in her hand. “Tiberius has enough stuff in these files to keep Grady busy for decades.”

Grady Daniels was the man Scarlett had hired to help create the Mob Experience exhibit. He lived and breathed the history of Las Vegas. His doctoral thesis had been on the Chicago mobs, but during his research, he’d learned quite a bit about Las Vegas because of the natural migration of mobsters in the forties and fifties.

“Lucas was right,” he muttered, either not hearing her or ignoring her enthusiasm. “Tiberius was the J. Edgar Hoover of Vegas.”

“You told your brother about the files?”

Logan shook his head. “He told me. We’ve suspected what Tiberius has been up to for a while.” From his guarded expression, there was more he wasn’t sharing with her.

Scarlett decided a subtle push was called for. “Finding anything is going to be impossible unless we have some idea what we’re looking for. Or a notion of who might have something to hide.”

“And we’re not going to find anything tonight.”

“Give me half an hour to indulge my curiosity, then I’ll let you take me back to my suite and have your way with me.”

His unfathomable stare told her he wouldn’t dignify her flirtation by responding. So with a sigh, Scarlett continued to work her way around the storage unit. She wasn’t surprised to find a whole lot of information on the mob, but resisted the urge to take any of the files with her. Some of Tiberius’s notes read like pages from an old-time detective novel. The stories were fascinating. Scarlett could easily have spent days in here poring over the metal cabinets, but Logan was showing signs of impatience.

At last she found the file drawer she was looking for. Sure enough, there was a thick file on her father. His antics were well-known around town. Her grandfather’s file was not as full as his son’s, but it still contained a lot of newspaper articles as well as a history of the company and background on Henry. It took her less than a minute to unearth two other files. One for her mother. One for Violet’s. To her surprise, Tiberius had a file on Harper’s mother, as well. What could he possibly find of interest about a New York City socialite?

Scarlett shut the final cabinet door and carried her booty to an unmarked Bankers Box near the front of the unit. She thought it was empty until she lifted off the top, but it was a third full of files. From the look of them, these files must have been some of the last Tiberius was working on. She dropped the files on her family into the box and picked it up.

Logan stood outside, radiating impatience as she emerged. “What are those?”

“Files on my family.”

“Are you sure taking those is a good idea?”

“Have you met Harper’s and Violet’s mothers? I’m sure there’s nothing scandalous in their pasts besides our father. As for my mother...” She handed him the box and dug out a photo to show Logan. It was a full-color eight-by-ten photo. “Wasn’t she gorgeous?”

“You inherited her legs.”