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At Odds with the Heiress
Cat Schield








“One of these days, someone is going to see past your flirtation to the truth,”


Logan warned, his voice a husky growl.

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.”

“What’s gotten into you today?”

“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.

* * *

At Odds with the Heiress is part of the Las Vegas Nights trilogy: Where love is the biggest gamble of all!


At Odds with

the Heiress

Cat Schield






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


CAT SCHIELD has been reading and writing romance since high school. Although she graduated from college with a BA in business, her idea of a perfect career was writing books for Mills & Boon. And now, after winning the Romance Writers of America 2010 Golden Heart Award for series contemporary romance, that dream has come true. Cat lives in Minnesota with her daughter, Emily, and their Burmese cat. When she’s not writing sexy, romantic stories for Mills & Boon


Desire™, she can be found sailing with friends on the St Croix River or in more exotic locales like the Caribbean and Europe. She loves to hear from readers. Find her at www.catschield. com. Follow her on Twitter, @catschield.


To Diane, Rose and Kevin.

Thanks for all your support through the years.

Researching Vegas wouldn’t have been as fun without you!


Contents

Chapter One (#u6f51d1ab-9813-55df-80dd-b85f94c61e97)

Chapter Two (#ueafe0897-be0b-50ac-b68f-e0d52eccc041)

Chapter Three (#uafc8fb90-de8a-52ab-a85f-25c73a1cd73b)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


One

Logan Wolfe slowed his stride as he entered the fifth floor executive office, taking a moment to appreciate the feminine tableau silhouetted against the backdrop of the Las Vegas Strip. Although all three Fontaine sisters were brunettes of a similar height and bone structure, they could not have been less alike in attitude, style and background.

The three were half sisters who’d known nothing of each other until their common father, Ross Fontaine, died five years ago. When their grandfather, Henry Fontaine, chairman and CEO of the multibillion-dollar Fontaine Hotels and Resorts, found out that Ross had two illegitimate daughters, he tracked them down and brought them into the family fold. They’d both changed their last names to Fontaine and accepted important roles in the company in order to participate in a contest, devised by their grandfather, to see which of his three heirs would run the Fontaine empire when he retired.

“Good morning, Logan,” Violet Fontaine called, waving him over. “Grandpa, Logan has joined us.”

“Good morning, Logan.” Henry Fontaine’s deep voice sounded from the speakerphone. He was based in New York City where the company had their corporate office and kept in touch with his granddaughters through a weekly conference call.

“Good morning, Mr. Fontaine. I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” the CEO said. “In fact, I have to run to another meeting. Violet, dear, once again, I’m sorry for your loss. Call me if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“Thank you, Grandfather.”

As Harper Fontaine pushed the button that ended the call, Violet gestured to the empty chair beside her. Logan sat down and gave Violet’s hand a sympathetic squeeze.

“I was sorry to hear about Tiberius. How are you holding up?”

Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “Even though we all knew he had heart problems, it was still such a shock. He was a live wire. His energy never seemed to stop. I figured he’d live forever.”

Logan had been friends with Violet for seven years, since he and his twin brother, Lucas, had decided to expand their growing security company to Las Vegas. Violet was the grounded middle sister who had a girl-next-door charm. Her mother, Suzanne, had been a showgirl at one time, but after a brief affair with Ross Fontaine and the birth of her daughter, she’d gone to work for Tiberius Stone, owner of the Lucky Heart Hotel and Casino. Twenty years her senior, Tiberius had fallen in love with Suzanne and they’d moved in together. Growing up, Violet had shadowed Tiberius around his hotel and by the time she graduated high school she knew more about running a casino than people twice her age.

In fact, Tiberius Stone was the reason the three sisters were solemn this morning. Violet’s surrogate father had been found dead of an apparent heart attack in his office at the Lucky Heart the day before.

As Violet dabbed at her eyes, Harper spoke up. “Have you had breakfast, Logan?”

The Fontaine sisters met every Wednesday morning for breakfast at one of the three luxury hotels they managed for their grandfather. Sitting side by side on the Las Vegas Strip, each property was a unique reflection of the sister who ran it. This morning, they were enjoying breakfast at Fontaine Ciel, Harper’s property and the newest jewel in the Fontaine crown. Taking a cue from the French word for sky, Harper had designed her sixty-story tower to showcase panoramic views of the Strip. In the most expensive suites, high above the city, eighteen-foot walls of windows were designed to give guests a sense that they were floating just below a dome of intense blue. The signature color was echoed everywhere in the two-billion-dollar hotel.

“Thanks. I’ve already eaten.” He’d been up for three hours already. First his morning workout. A touch-base meeting with Lucas and then the trip to Fontaine Ciel to check the progress of the team testing the security system his company had installed in the soon-to-open hotel. “But I’ll take a cup of green tea if Violet doesn’t mind sharing.”

“There’s more than enough for two.” Violet’s hazel eyes were warm as she filled an empty cup and nudged it over to him. “It’s good to see that someone besides me appreciates the virtues of green tea.” She looked pointedly at the sister to her left.

“Right,” Scarlett murmured, speaking up for the first time. “Heaven forbid Logan would try anything that’s bad for him.”

Scarlett Fontaine, voluptuous, charismatic and just plain sexy, had a knack for getting under Logan’s skin. In his opinion, the breathtakingly beautiful former actress was the last person who should be running a billion-dollar hotel and casino. Without a college degree or business experience, she relied on her abundant charm to get things done, and it rubbed Logan the wrong way how much she’d accomplished with such techniques.

She popped a bite of sugary pastry into her mouth. Her soft murmur of enjoyment made the hair on Logan’s arms stand up. He was a millisecond too slow to brace against the shock wave of awareness. Compelling and unwelcome, lust rushed through him, leaving a destructive tangle of longing and fury in its wake.

From the moment he’d entered the room, he’d done his best to ignore the once-popular child star. Being near her aggravated his composure. She exuded sexual energy the way Harper projected professionalism and Violet radiated optimism. Many times Logan had watched Scarlett shake up a roomful of men by simply appearing in a doorway. That he was similarly affected despite his best efforts to remain immune pissed him off.

He liked things that he could control. Computer systems. Fast cars. Any risks he took were carefully calculated to result in the best possible outcome. “Chance favors the prepared mind” was a motto he lived by. Scarlett would counter with “Fortune favors the bold.”

“I’ve tried plenty of things that are bad for me,” he retorted. Avoiding the allure of her witchy green eyes didn’t make him immune to their impact. “I like living a healthy lifestyle. Both physically and mentally.”

Scarlett gestured with her chin in Violet’s direction. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Logan agreed. He wanted a woman who matched him. Someone who shared his views about healthy living and maintaining a balance between work and home. Not a fiery siren who would turn his routines upside down and rock his world.

Violet shook her head, the melancholy in her eyes clearing for the moment. “We’re too much alike. We’d bore each other to death. No. I think Logan needs someone who will challenge him.” Violet got to her feet and aimed a wicked grin at Scarlett. “Someone like you.”

There was a slight hesitation before Scarlett’s dismissive laugh. Logan cursed his curiosity as he watched the exchange. What had caused the delayed reaction? His pulse spiked. He sat back with crossed arms and watched Violet exit the room. The pause didn’t mean Scarlett had considered the idea. She’d never given him any reason to believe she suffered the same sexual attraction that plagued him. Quite the reverse.

In fact, Logan wasn’t sure she was interested in any of the men who pursued her. She doled out flirtation like candy that her admirers gobbled up, all the while keeping them at arm’s length. Which made them all the more determined to have her.

For the past five years, since she’d left her acting career behind in Los Angeles and moved to Las Vegas to run Fontaine Richesse, Logan had watched her disappoint one suitor after another. He’d decided she was a coldhearted woman who enjoyed tormenting men, and kept his own desires firmly in check. A challenge when she took great pleasure in teasing him.

Shifting his focus to what had brought him to Harper’s office this morning, he gave her an accounting of what he’d found during his consultation with his team regarding her security system.

“There won’t be any problem having the cameras adjusted before your soft opening,” he concluded.

“Good.” She’d been making notes as he spoke. “One less thing to worry about.” She glanced at her watch. “If there’s nothing else, I have a meeting in ten minutes.” A line appeared between her brows as she muttered, “That’s providing he bothers to show up this time.”

“Actually, I did have one more thing,” Logan said. “A favor, actually.”

He caught Scarlett’s sudden interest in his peripheral vision. She leaned her elbows on the table and watched intently. He would have preferred to make his request to Harper in private, but with her hotel opening only ten days away, her time was limited.

“My niece is in town for the rest of the summer and I wondered if she could shadow you for a couple weeks. Observe a businesswoman in action.”

Harper, the oldest of the three women by a year, was Ross Fontaine’s only legitimate child. She had the training and the ambition to take over for her grandfather when he stepped down in two years. Harper’s mother came from old East Coast money and had insisted her daughter be raised in New York City and educated at an Ivy League school. Her style was elegant and professional, from her smooth chignon to her black designer pumps.

“You’re the perfect role model,” he finished.

“The perfect role model,” Scarlett echoed, her throaty voice rich with laughter. “The ultimate professional.”

Logan glared at her, realizing he’d laid it on a bit thick. But the task his sister and brother-in-law had handed him was outside of Logan’s expertise.

“I’d love to help,” Harper retorted. “As soon as the hotel opens.”

“I was hoping you could start showing her the ropes sooner.”

“I don’t know how I can....” Harper sent a hopeful look in Scarlett’s direction. “What about you?”

“My schedule is wide-open,” Scarlett said, her gaze as steady and watchful as a psychiatrist’s. “I’d be happy to help.”

This was not at all what Logan had in mind. His relationship with Harper was professional and cordial. What happened between him and Scarlett could only be called acrimonious. His niece was already a troublesome seventeen-year-old. Under Scarlett’s influence, the girl would become completely unmanageable.

“Unless Logan doesn’t think I’m role-model material,” Scarlett continued when he didn’t immediately jump on her offer. Her ability to read his mind with unnerving accuracy gave her an unwelcome advantage over him.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Harper appeared oblivious to her sister’s subtext. “Besides, your hotel is operational. She’ll get a much better sense of how things run. Now, if you two will excuse me, I have an internationally famous pain in the ass to meet with.”

Logan stared after Harper, cursing his bad timing. He should never have brought up his problem within earshot of Scarlett.

“Tell me about your niece,” Scarlett prompted.

“I don’t need your help.” Being subtle was not the way to handle Scarlett.

“No,” she said in a sugarcoated tone, “you don’t want my help.” She added coffee to her cup, lifted the rim to her mouth and blew across the surface. “There’s a difference.”

Captivated by the small O formed by her bright red lips, he took far too long to respond to her gibe. “Very well,” he agreed. “I don’t want your help.”

“How old is she?”

Logan took a couple seconds to grind his teeth. Despite being trapped between frustration with his niece and the woman sitting across the table from him, he told her what she wanted to know. “Madison is seventeen. She’s my sister’s youngest.” And in the past three months had driven Paula and her husband, Randolph, past the edge of patience.

“Madison? As in the capital of Wisconsin?”

“As in Madison Avenue.” Logan winced. “Her father owns a large ad agency in New York City.”

And Paula was a partner in a prestigious law firm. Madison had inherited both brains and ambition from her parents. She’d graduated second in her class and had been accepted to four prestigious universities. If she’d wanted, she could’ve swiftly climbed any corporate ladder she chose. Instead, to both her parents’ horror, the teenager had decided to become an actress.

“And he’s hoping she’ll follow in his footsteps? From your sour expression I’m guessing that’s not what she wants to do.”

“She’s refusing to go to college. She turns eighteen in two weeks and is determined to move to L.A.”

Scarlett’s curiosity sharpened. “What’s wrong with L.A.?”

“It’s not the city, it’s her chosen career path.”

“Instead of me dragging it out of you one question at a time, why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on. And why you wanted her to shadow Harper.”

Sharing family troubles with outsiders went against the grain, but he desperately needed help. Anyone’s help. Even Scarlett’s.

“Madison ran away to Los Angeles over spring break. She’s determined to become an actress.”

Scarlett’s full lips twitched. Over the years he’d noticed how well she could read people. Normally he concealed how easily she riled his temper and his hormones, but in this case his sarcastic tone had given too much away.

“The scandal that must have caused your family,” she deadpanned.

“She’s only seventeen.”

“And she could’ve fallen into someone’s evil clutches.”

Logan didn’t appreciate that she was having fun at his expense. “Thankfully that didn’t happen.”

“What did happen?”

Not a damn thing. Madison had moved in with a boy she’d met in New York City the summer before and signed up to take an acting class. She’d even gotten a callback for a commercial.

“Her father found her before she got into trouble and brought her back to New York.”

“Why don’t they just let her follow her dream?” Scarlett poured herself a little more coffee. “Being an actress isn’t the worst job in the world.”

“Paula and Ran don’t think it’s the proper career for a girl as bright and capable of going places as Madison,” he explained. “They want her to go to college and get a degree.”

Other than a brief narrowing of her eyes, Scarlett’s expression remained tranquil. “I didn’t go to college and I think I’m doing all right.”

So said the former child actress whose exploits had kept the paparazzi awash in scandalous photographs for several years. Scarlett’s support of Madison’s acting dreams was exactly why he hadn’t asked her for help.

“You also had a billionaire grandfather bring you to Las Vegas and hand you a hotel to run.”

He didn’t realize how insulting that sounded until her seductive charm vanished in a flash of annoyance. For the first time ever, Logan believed he’d been granted a glimpse of the genuine woman beneath the mask. And it heightened his already keen awareness of her desirability. He inhaled slowly and let his breath leak out as he wrestled his libido under control. As his blood continued to pulse hot and slow through his veins, he had to repeat his breathing exercise.

Damnation. Why the hell did she have to be so utterly gorgeous?

She had flawless pale skin, dramatic bone structure and a body built to drive a man insane: large firm breasts, tiny waist, lean long legs. The way she moved invited everyone to stare. And her mouth... Her lush, red lips were crafted for kissing.

“You’re right,” she drawled, her temper giving the words a sarcastic bite. “It’s unrealistic to think I would be running Fontaine Richesse if Grandfather hadn’t gotten this crazy idea that his granddaughters should compete for the CEO job. I’d still be in L.A., auditioning for roles, working when I could and waiting for the part that would reenergize my career. But I would still be a success and I would be happy.”

“Look, I only meant that you never would have been considered as Fontaine Richesse’s general manager if you hadn’t been Ross’s daughter.”

For the first time in five years, she’d let him see how much he’d upset her. But all too quickly, she regained her equilibrium. “And you’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t think I belong here.”

“I’m not sure you do.”

She looked astonished. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being honest for once. You’ve looked down on me from the moment we met.” The directness of her gaze demanded he respond with frankness, but his mother had not raised him to insult women.

“I don’t look down on you.” That wasn’t entirely true. Despite the hotel’s success, he didn’t think she was in Violet and Harper’s league when it came to running a company the size of Fontaine Hotels and Resorts.

“But you don’t approve of me, either,” she prompted.

“It isn’t that I don’t approve.”

“What is it, then?” She battered him with a determined stare. “You’re friendly with my sisters.” She paused a beat. “You must have something against me.”

“I have nothing against you.”

“You believe both Violet and Harper have what it takes to be become the CEO of Fontaine Hotels.” She paused for confirmation, but he gave her nothing but stony silence. “And you don’t think I do.” Again she’d read his mind. When he still didn’t respond, her eyes warmed to soft moss. “They’ve both worked exceptionally hard to get to where they are. I’m a clueless actress. You feel protective of them.” She regarded him with a half smile. “You are a good friend, but you don’t have to worry. I don’t have any business experience, which means I have no chance of besting either of my well-educated, incredibly capable siblings. Grandfather was merely playing fair when he included me in the contest.” Her husky voice raked across his nerve endings. She was putting herself down to prevent him from doing so. “I’m so glad we’ve cleared that up.”

They’d cleared up nothing. He was no more comfortable around her or capable of being friendly with her than he’d been five minutes earlier. But what more could he say? He wasn’t about to tell her that she’d bewitched him.

“Getting back to your niece and her determination to avoid college,” Scarlett continued, her manner becoming brisk and efficient. “What were you hoping she’d discover by shadowing Harper for a couple weeks?”

“That the business world wasn’t as much of a drag as she thinks it will be.”

Scarlett had a musical laugh, rich with amusement. “And you chose Harper, the workaholic, for her to shadow? She’ll die of boredom before the first day is over. She’d do better with Violet.” She paused and tapped a spoon on the pristine white tablecloth. “Of course, with Tiberius’s death, this isn’t a good time for that.”

“I agree.”

Which brought them back to her. The reality hung unspoken between them.

“Why don’t you show her all the interesting aspects of your security business?”

She’d struck right to the heart of his troubles. “Every time I try to engage Madison, she rolls her eyes and starts texting.” He made no attempt to hide his frustration. “I thought maybe someone outside the family would have better luck.”

Scarlett scrutinized Logan’s grim expression. Figuring she’d probably annoyed him enough for one day, she held back a smart-aleck remark about the situation requiring a feminine touch. “You’re probably right to think she’ll be in a better frame of mind to listen to a disinterested third party.”

A disinterested third party with a master’s degree in business like Harper, or ten years of hotel and casino management experience like Violet. Not a former child star who had none of the skills required to run a world-class hotel. Logan had been right about that, but his low opinion of her stung. Not that he was wrong. Or alone in his estimation of her failings. She was sure that the same thought had crossed the minds of a dozen hotel and casino owners in Las Vegas. But she hated his disdain more than all the others put together.

Uncomfortable with the direction her thoughts had taken her, Scarlett glanced around her sister’s office. The room was a little over the top for her taste. It was almost as if Harper had been feeling insecure when she’d brought in the expensive furnishings and accessories. Which was ridiculous. If anyone could build and run the most successful Fontaine hotel in Las Vegas and become the next CEO, it was Henry Fontaine’s only legitimate granddaughter.

“Of course, if you want someone to tell her how hard it is to make it as an actress in Hollywood, I’m your girl.” Scarlett tossed her napkin onto the table. “When did you wish her reprogramming to begin?”

Logan scowled at her. It was one of several unhappy expressions he wore whenever they occupied the same space. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’ll wait until Harper or Violet is free.”

“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.”

“Tiberius left it to you.” He tried to hand it back, but she shook her head.

“And not knowing what’s inside is bugging you, so open it.”

With a harsh exhalation, he slipped his finger beneath the envelope flap and pulled out a packet of papers. A key card slipped to the floor. Madison looked curious as she bent to retrieve it.

“It’s a rental agreement for a storage unit,” Logan said as he continued looking through the stack of papers. He handed a single sheet to Scarlett.

Scarlett recognized Tiberius’s neat handwriting. The letter was addressed to her. As she scanned it, her throat tightened. Damn the old rascal. He had indeed passed his files on to her. She took the key from Madison and studied it.

“A storage unit?” she mused. “Do you suppose there’s more than files in there?”

“Possibly. I hope you’re not considering going there alone.”

He might not like her, but that didn’t stop him from feeling protective. She could work with that. “Why not?”

His phone chimed, indicating he’d received a text. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checked the screen. Air slipped between his teeth in an impatient exhalation.

“Something’s just come up.” He turned to Madison. “I’ll be back for you at five.”

“Five?” Scarlett echoed doubtfully. “The action doesn’t get started around here until much later. You just go ahead and do whatever it is you do and I’ll make sure Madison gets home.”

“What time?”

“I don’t know. Midnight?”

Logan’s eyebrows dipped as his niece’s expression lit up. “Ten,” he countered.

“Seriously?” Madison piped up. “I’m seventeen years old. You don’t think I’ve been out past ten before?”

He looked as if he were chewing glass as he countered, “Ten-thirty.”

“I’m almost eighteen.”

“Almost being the operative word.”

Madison rolled her eyes at him. “My birthday’s two weeks away.”

“Ten-thirty.”

“When I turn eighteen you can’t tell me what to do.”

Scarlett watched the exchange with interest, noticing the way his gaze bounced from her to Madison and back. It was good to see that she wasn’t the only female who annoyed him.

“Why don’t we say eleven,” she offered, voice bright, smile friendly.

Her words stopped Madison’s revolt in its tracks. “Perfect.”

To Scarlett’s surprise, Madison moved to her side and linked arms. An unstoppable female phalanx against Logan. He did not looked pleased.

“Eleven.” Logan gave a tight nod. “And keep her out of trouble.”

“Stop worrying. She’ll be fine.”

Scarlett gave Logan’s authoritative shoulders and don’t-mess-with-me stride one final glance as he headed out of her office. Oxygen returned to the room in a rush with his departure. The man sure knew how to dominate a room. And a woman’s hormones.

“Let’s start our tour in reservations,” Scarlett murmured, gesturing the teenager toward the hallway.

“I thought maybe we could begin in the casino.”

Scarlett shook her head, crushing Madison’s hopeful expression. “We’ll save the best for last.”

Two hours later Scarlett had shown Madison around the entire hotel and was heading into the casino when her phone rang. Her heart gave a happy little jolt when she recognized Logan’s number. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The man had given her yet another heaping helping of his bad opinion of her today and she still couldn’t shake this idiotic crush she had on him.

“I’m a glutton for punishment,” she muttered as she answered the call. “Hello, Logan. The tour’s going great in case you’re worried.”

“You’re still at the hotel?”

“Where else would I be?” She paused a beat. “Oh, right, the storage unit.”

“You’re taking this business with the files too lightly.”

Scarlett’s gaze followed Logan’s niece as she ventured toward a display advertising the opening of the Mob Experience exhibit in a month. “I already promised not to take Madison anywhere near the storage unit.”

“It’s not just Madison’s safety I’m talking about.”

A warm glow filled her at his concern. “So, when do you want to go check it out?”

“The sooner the better.”

“Tomorrow?”

“That should work.”

“What time are you going to pick me up?”

She interpreted his hesitation as dismay.

“You misunderstood me,” he said. “I’m going to check out the storage shed. Alone.”

“You could. But you’ll have a difficult time getting in without the key.” She let her meaning settle in for a couple seconds before she finished, “So, it’s a date.”

“It’s not a date.” The vibration in his tone reminded her of an unhappy rottweiler.

“It could be if you took me to dinner first.” As she plied him with her most beguiling voice, Scarlett wondered if the sound she was hearing on the other end was his teeth grinding together.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Scarlett grinned in triumph. “I’ll be counting the hours.”

First a kiss, now a date. She couldn’t believe her incredible luck. Too bad she didn’t gamble or she’d be raking in the winnings. Practically floating across the carpet, she caught up with Madison.

“I can’t believe how many people are in here,” Madison said as they strolled between the tables. “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“Most people come to Las Vegas to gamble. Wait until later. It’ll really be hopping down here then.”

“I like the way the dealers are dressed up as famous movie stars.”

“My friend Tiberius told me how back in the fifties it was not unusual to walk through the casino and see Lucille Ball, Debbie Reynolds or the Rat Pack. The stars loved coming here.” Scarlett paused, wondering if the seventeen-year-old had any idea who she was talking about, and then saw with relief that she did. “Since I grew up in Hollywood, I thought it made sense for me to bring a little of that glamour back to Las Vegas.”

“What a fun idea.”

It was at that moment that Scarlett remembered Madison was an aspiring actress. “So much fun that I like getting in on the action myself.” She linked her arm through Madison’s and steered her toward the elevators. “Let’s go up to my suite and I’ll show you what I mean.”

Ten minutes later, Scarlett threw open the doors to her “special” closet and waited for Madison’s reaction.

“Cool.”

The fifteen-by-fifteen-foot room was lined with costumes, shoes, wigs and jewelry that Scarlett used to transform herself into various starlets from the fifties and sixties.

“On the weekends I like to get dressed up and wander around the casinos. My high rollers love it and I get to pretend that I’m still an actress.” A mild pang of regret came and went.

“You obviously love being one.” Madison walked toward the costumes on the far wall. “Why’d you give it up?”

Scarlett watched Madison trail her fingers along a hot-pink replica of the gown worn by Marilyn Monroe when she sang “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” from the 1953 musical Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.

“The simple answer is that when puberty hit I went from a sweet-faced girl-next-door to a bombshell with too many curves.” Scarlett stood in front of the mirror and gazed critically at her reflection. “Neither the producers of That’s Our Hilary nor my not-so-loyal public were ready for Hilary to grow up so fast.”

“What happened?”

“They spun off a few secondary characters into a new show and gave Hilary the heave-ho.”

“That’s terrible.”

“That’s showbiz.” Scarlett skimmed her palms over her hips, thinking about how she’d put on the black skirt to thumb her nose at Logan’s suggestion that she dress more professionally. He didn’t seem to understand that unless she worked really hard to downplay her allure, her innate sexuality came through whatever she wore.

It’s why the parts that came her way after her stint as Hilary were all of a kind. She’d turned down so many offers to play sexy roles that she’d lost count. Being typecast as the bitchy sexual rival of the heroine was not the part she wanted to play. She longed to be taken seriously as an actress, but her agent said none of the casting directors he spoke to could see past her looks to the talent beneath.

“I know my uncle wants you to talk me out of being an actress.”

“Aren’t you a smart girl.” Scarlett caught Madison’s gaze in the mirror. “Smart enough to have a plan for what happens if you can’t make it in Hollywood?”

Madison looked away. “I’m young. I thought I’d give it a few years. If I don’t make it, I can always go to school later.”

Scarlett considered how many times she’d heard a fellow actor say something similar. It was hard to give up your dream of making it on the silver screen when a great part was always the next audition away.

“Or you could see if your parents would be okay with you attending college in L.A. while you take acting classes and audition.” Scarlett could see that Madison hadn’t considered this option. She’d probably been so focused on defying her parents and fighting for the future she wanted that she’d never considered there might be a middle ground. “It might be a lot more work than you intended, but it might also be a way to make everyone happy.”

“I’ll think about it.”

But Scarlett could see the teenager wasn’t quite ready to.

“In the meantime, do you want to be Judy Garland in Summer Stock or Greta Garbo from Mata Hari?”

“How about Marilyn?”

Scarlett laughed. “Not so fast, my young apprentice. First you need to prove to me you’ve got the chops to be Marilyn.”

“I’ve got the chops.”

“Then you won’t have any trouble making a casino full of people believe you’re Mata Hari.”

“You got that right.”


Three

It was ten minutes after eleven, and Logan was pacing from one end of his thirty-foot front porch to the other. There was a pair of rocking chairs where he could sit down and enjoy the flowers cascading from long pots affixed to the railings, but he was too agitated.

Through the Bluetooth receiver in his ear, Logan half listened to his brother muse about Tiberius’s files. “So, we were right.”

“I’ll know for sure tomorrow.”

Logan squinted into the dark night as if that could help him see farther. Where the hell were they?

“I don’t suppose there’s any way she’d just turn the files over to you.”

“Not a chance.” His irritation spiked as he saw headlights appear at the end of his long driveway.

“Yeah, I forgot how well you two get along.” Lucas sounded disgusted. “I don’t know what the hell’s the matter with you. She’s gorgeous and the chemistry between you is off the charts. You’d barely have to lift a finger to charm the key from her.”

“Charming people is your job,” Logan retorted, stepping off the porch as Scarlett’s Audi TT rolled to a stop. “You’re late,” he snapped as she cut the engine.

“I’m late?” Lucas said in his ear, tone rising in confusion.

Scarlett protested, “By ten minutes.”

“You sound too cranky for this to be a booty call,” his brother taunted, having heard the female voice. “I take it our rebellious niece wasn’t home on time.”

“Something like that. Later.” He disconnected the call, cutting off his brother’s laughter.

Logan frowned as Madison stepped from the car. “What is she wearing?”

“I’m Greta Garbo as Mata Hari,” Madison announced, striking a pose, arms out, face in profile, nose lifted to the sky.

Logan surveyed the elaborate headpiece that concealed Madison’s blond hair and the sparkling caftan-looking gown that covered her from chin to toes. With her dramatic makeup and solemn expression, his niece was an acceptable Greta Garbo.

But he’d asked Scarlett to steer Madison away from acting, not demonstrate how much fun it could be.

“Doesn’t she look great?” Scarlett asked, coming around the front of the car. Also in costume, adorably feminine in a blond wig and pale pink ostrich-feather dress, she gave Logan the briefest of glances before settling her attention on the teenager.

The fondness in her gaze struck low and hard at Logan’s gut. Unprepared for the blow, he stiffened. Scarlett genuinely liked the girl. And from Madison’s broad smile and the hint of hero worship in her eyes, the feeling was mutual. When he’d agreed to let Scarlett show his niece around the hotel, he never dreamed they’d become friends. But now he understood his faulty judgment. Having an actress of Scarlett’s caliber to learn from would be any fledgling actress’s dream come true.

“Just great.” He felt a growl building in his chest. “Madison, why don’t you go in and take off the costume so Scarlett can take it back to the hotel with her.”

Logan’s shortness dimmed his niece’s high spirits. “She said I could bring it with me when I go back tomorrow.”

“I’ve been thinking that the hotel might not be the best place for you.”

“It figures that I’d find something I enjoy and you’d take it away.” Madison threw her arms out. “Do you all want me to be miserable? Is that it?”

“I thought you might spend some time with me at the office tomorrow.”

“We tried that, remember?” Madison crossed her arms over her chest and dropped the enigmatic Mata Hari facade. Once again she looked like a twenty-first-century teenager playing dress-up. “You left me sitting in the lobby with the receptionist while you dealt with all the supersecret stuff for your clients. No, thanks.”

Up until now, Scarlett had remained silent. Now she stepped into the fray, her manner relaxed, her voice a refreshing spring breeze. “Madison, why don’t you head in. Your uncle and I will figure something out.”

To his amazement, Madison did as she was told. Giving Scarlett a quick, warm hug, his niece shot him a pleading look before disappearing through the front door.

“How did you do that?” The question tumbled out of him. “She fights me on everything from breakfast to bedtime. But you tell her to do something and she agrees without so much as a frown.”

“I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve treated her like the intelligent young woman she is.”

“Meaning, I haven’t?”

“You’re pretty bossy.”

“She’s seventeen.”

“When I was seventeen, I had my GED, was managing my acting career and having a ball with my friends.”

“She’s not you.”

“I’m not saying she is. But she’s smart and ambitious. If she’s behaving like a brat, it might be because no one is listening to her.”

“So now you’re an expert.”

Scarlett’s only reaction to his sarcasm was the warning flash in her eyes. Her tone remained neutral as she said, “I’m not an expert. I’m simply offering you my opinion.”

“Noted.”

“Please let her come back to the hotel tomorrow. She can shadow my general manager. Lucille’s exactly what you want in a mentor. A professional career woman with a master’s degree in business. Hardworking. Conservative dresser. You’ll love her.”

While Logan appreciated that Scarlett had taken a strong interest in Madison, he couldn’t shake the concern that no matter how hard she tried to steer his niece toward college and a career that would please her parents, Madison would continue to be dazzled by Scarlett’s larger-than-life persona and remain steadfast in her decision to become an actress.

“Please, Logan. Let me help.” A trace of pleading had entered Scarlett’s voice. “I’m worried that if everyone keeps telling her what to do, Madison will become even more determined to skip college and go to L.A.”

“And you think you can change her mind.”

“I’m not promising that, but I think she’ll listen to what I say.”

That’s exactly what Logan was afraid of. She’d already half convinced him to let Madison return to the hotel. His irritation cooled and other emotions crowded in.

“And who are you supposed to be?” he asked, as he finally took in the full effect of her outfit.

She twirled gracefully. “I’m Ginger Rogers from the movie Top Hat.”

She looked ready to be spun around the dance floor or clasped in her costar’s arms for a passionate moonlit kiss. And thanks to her four-inch heels, her delectable mouth was within easy kissing distance....

Logan crossed his arms over his chest as he was flooded with the memory of her soft moan of surrender earlier that day. A low burn began in his belly. Tension built as he waited for the tiniest spark from her that would ignite him to action.

But instead of provoking him, she retreated a step. “I should be getting back to the hotel.”

Did he detect the slightest hint of breathlessness in her voice? Had she sensed he was on the brink of doing something rash and impulsive? Why wasn’t she inviting him to act?

“Of course.”

“Will you bring Madison by tomorrow?”

“I can.”

“It would be better if we formalized the internship by hiring her. That way she can take ownership of the tasks she’s assigned.”

Logan knew having a job she enjoyed would be good for his niece, but he worried what having her working for Scarlett was going to do to his blood pressure.

“What time do you want her?”

Only because he was so in tune with her did he note the relaxation of her muscles. The change was almost imperceptible.

“Eight.”

And then, because she wasn’t expecting it, he slid his hand around the back of her neck and lowered his lips to hers. For a second, shock paralyzed her, then she softened beneath the light pressure he exerted on her mouth. The moonlight and muted night sounds called for leisurely, romantic kisses. He cupped her head and focused all his attention on the texture of her plump lips and the fragrance of her skin.

Two kisses stretched into ten. Logan knew the interlude couldn’t last forever. Already in the back of his mind irritation buzzed. A sizzling, sultry temptress, she was built for passion and frenzied desire, and here he was treating her like the heroine of a lighthearted romantic comedy.

But in this moment, with just a hint of coolness rushing across his hot skin, he wanted nothing more than to savor the way she yielded her lips to his mastery, to enjoy how her body trembled as he feathered kisses over her chin and cheeks.

“Thank you,” she said when at long last he released her.

He noted that she kept her gaze on his shirt buttons, her thoughts hidden beneath a thick fringe of lashes. “For kissing you?”

She frowned. He’d disrupted her poise and she was slow to recover.

“For letting Madison come back to Fontaine Richesse tomorrow.”

“You made a convincing argument.”

Already his fingers itched to touch her again. He wished he hadn’t let her go so soon, but any longer and he’d have been overwhelmed by the urge to carry her into the house and spend the rest of the night ravishing her.

As if reading his mind, Scarlett backed away. “I’d better go.” She returned to the driver’s side of the red convertible. With the car between them she finally met his gaze. “Are we still on for tomorrow night at seven?”

“I haven’t changed my mind about how dangerous Tiberius’s files are, so yes.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“It’s not a date,” he grumbled, but the eager jump in his pulse made him wonder who he was trying to convince, her or himself.

“Then you won’t want to kiss me goodnight.”

Any response he might have made would’ve been drowned out by the noise of the engine as she started her car.

It wasn’t until her taillights disappeared down his driveway that he realized he was smiling.

* * *

The first thing Scarlett did when she returned to her suite was crank up the air conditioning. Driving a sedate forty miles an hour back to the hotel hadn’t stirred the hot June night air enough to lower her body temperature after kissing Logan.

She stripped and stepped into the shower. The cool water made her shiver, but it wasn’t enough to fully banish the heat coursing through her at the memory of Logan’s lips moving over hers.

Somewhat refreshed, she wrapped herself in a terry robe and sat staring out her window at the bright Vegas strip. Why the hell had he kissed her like that? Passion she could handle. That wild kiss in the elevator had knocked her for a loop, but it had been born out of conflict and chemistry.

Tonight’s embrace had been heartbreakingly romantic. She never imagined a straightforward guy like Logan would have had it in him to kiss her so sweetly and let her go. The explosive quality between them led her to expect him to want her hard and fast. Not slow and tender.

She felt a quiver begin in her chest and plummet downward until she was just as hot as before her shower.

A firm knock sounded on her outside door, making Scarlett’s heart jump. Had Logan followed her back to the hotel intent on picking up where they’d left off in his driveway? If so his timing was terrible. Her hair was wet. She wore no makeup. The only thing sexy about her at the moment was that she was naked beneath the robe.

For several seconds she stood paralyzed with indecision. A second, urgent knock roused her. She crossed to the door and flung it open.

“About time,” Violet said, holding up a bottle of Tiberius’s favorite Scotch. “It’s been a long, horrible day and I need a drink.”

“Ditto.” Harper eyed Scarlett’s attire, then peered past her into the suite. “We’re not interrupting anything, are we?”

Scarlett laughed, but it had a queer edge to it. “Hardly. And you’re right about the day. It was crazy. I’ll get some glasses.”

The three sisters settled onto the comfortable couch in Scarlett’s living room, each with a glass of amber liquid. Scarlett enjoyed being sandwiched between her sisters, treasured their closeness. Growing up an only child, she’d always longed for siblings. Now she had two.

“To Tiberius,” Violet pronounced in solemn tones.

“To Tiberius,” Harper and Scarlett echoed as they all clinked glasses.

“How did it go with Logan’s niece today?” Harper asked as Scarlett refilled her glass after tossing back the first shot.

The alcohol had left a line of heat from her throat to her stomach, a different sort of burn than she’d felt when Logan had kissed her. “She’s great. Wants to be an actress. Her family is horrified.”

Violet frowned. “There are far worse professions.”

“Not if you listen to Logan,” Scarlett muttered. “He’s convinced I’m going to corrupt Madison with my evil ways.”

“Stop exaggerating.” Harper was always the voice of order and reason. “You rub Logan the wrong way because it amuses you.”

Scarlett couldn’t deny it so she shrugged. “I’d rather rub him the right way, but he made it plain from the start that I wasn’t his type.”

“Is that why he stares at you so much?” Violet regarded her over the rim of her glass. “Because you’re not his type?”

Harper patted Scarlett’s hand. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re every man’s type.”

“Not every man.” But few were immune. Until today she’d believed Logan was one of those. Correction—until tonight. The kiss earlier that day had been about proving a point. Tonight’s kiss had been...intimate. As if the only thing on his mind was connecting with her. Scarlett shook her head and put a stop to such fancy. Turning to Violet, she said, “Something weird happened today. John Malcolm stopped by with an envelope for me from Tiberius.”




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