by Cat Schield
“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 sho
ok 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.”
Her pulse stuttered. “You’ve noticed my legs?”
“It’s hard not to.”
Unsure whether he meant the comment as praise or mere observation, Scarlett headed toward his SUV without replying. Logan was an enigma. Most of the time he acted as if every second in her company taxed his patience, then suddenly he’d behave as if he was actually worried about her. To further confuse her, he had developed a distracting fondness for kissing her whenever the mood struck him.
He didn’t like her. He certainly didn’t respect her as a businesswoman. On the other hand, she wasn’t his responsibility, so he didn’t have to worry about her safety as much as he did. And his kisses...his amazing, confusing, contrary kisses. They certainly weren’t the sort a man planted on a woman he was trying to seduce. What was his angle?
Scarlett studied him as he drove back to the hotel. He wasn’t classically handsome. More the rough-and-rugged type. Brawny. Take-charge. The guy everyone else in the room deferred to because he had all the answers.
Nor was he a good choice for a woman who only felt safe with men she could wrap around her finger. Was she attracted to the danger he represented? He would break her heart in a millisecond if she gave him the chance. Damn it. It would be so easy if only she didn’t like him so much.
Logan glanced her way and caught her staring at him. “What?”
“I was just thinking what a heartbreaker you are.”
He snorted. “I think you have us confused.”
“I flirt, but I never commit. No one’s heart actually gets engaged. You are completely sincere. You could make a woman fall in love with you without even trying.” She angled her body toward him. “Why haven’t you gotten married?”
“If this is another one of your games...”
“No game. I’m insatiably curious. I think that’s why Tiberius left his files to me.” “Knowledge is power,” he’d been fond of saying. “Did the right girl never come along?”
“I was engaged once.”
Rather than prompt him to continue, she let silence hang between them.
Logan scowled. “She broke it off.”
Scarlett shifted her gaze away from his stony expression, wishing she’d left well enough alone. No wonder he was such a hard man to get to know. He’d been hurt by the person who should have loved him best. That wasn’t something Logan would let go of easily. Scarlett pitied the women who tried to get close to him. They would find his defenses as impenetrable as the security systems his company was famous for.
“I’m sorry.”
“It was ten years ago.” He said it as though the pain was a distant memory, but she suspected his wound wasn’t all that well healed.
“That doesn’t mean it stops hurting.”
He greeted her attempt at sympathy with cold silence. At the hotel, per her request he stopped the SUV outside the employee entrance. When he tried to hand the key to her, she shook her head. “Find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
“Why do you think I’m after something?”
“You don’t really expect me to believe you came along tonight because you enjoy my company.” Managing a lighthearted smile despite the heaviness in her chest, Scarlett exited the vehicle and lifted the box containing her family’s files from the backseat.
“Scarlett...”
“Keep in touch, Logan.”
Then, before she could make the mistake of asking him up to her suite, she shut the car door and headed toward the hotel’s employee entrance.
Five
A week went by before Logan admitted defeat regarding Tiberius’s files. Scarlett had been right. Someone could spend decades going through the fragments of data. The hotel and casino owner had accumulated thousands of interesting tidbits throughout the years, some of it newspaper articles, some rumors, many firsthand accounts of events that had never become public knowledge.
The problem was, there was so much information, most of it random, that connecting the dots would take forever. Logan had neither the time nor the patience to locate the needle in the haystack. If he’d had some idea what he was looking for, he might have been able to ferret out Tiberius’s killer. But although the files held a lot of smoking guns, many of the people who’d once held them were long dead.
Nor were the cops interested in looking through the files. They were looking at the wife of a local businessman. Apparently the woman had been having an affair and after finding a file on her at his office, the police had a theory that Tiberius was blackmailing her. Logan didn’t believe it. Tiberius collected information on people, but he didn’t appear to use it. If he had, the casino owner wouldn’t have been nearly bankrupt when he died.
Despite having no luck, giving up the hunt was the last thing he wanted to do, but Scarlett was eager to have her historian comb through the files in search of material they could use in her Mob Experience exhibit, which was due to open in a few weeks. He could have given the key to one of his guys to return. In fact, that would have made a lot more sense. He was hip-deep in the data Lucas had sent to him from Dubai. They needed to have a proposal done in the next couple days and he’d lost a lot of time in his search through the storage unit.
Instead of leaving the key with Scarlett’s assistant, a stunning blonde woman with an MBA from Harvard, he tracked Scarlett herself down on the casino floor. He found her chatting with one of the pit bosses. With her hair cascading down the back of her sleeveless bronze sheath, she looked every inch a successful hotel execut
ive. His chest tightened as he watched her smile. Seven days away from her should have diminished his troublesome attraction. Instead, he’d found his thoughts filled with her at the most inopportune times.
Desiring her had been his Achilles’ heel for some time now, but he’d been able to keep his head in the game by remembering that she was first and foremost an actress and a woman who enjoyed manipulating men. Until last week, however, he’d never spent an extended time alone with her. He’d been working off assumptions he’d made from their infrequent encounters.
He now knew she was more than the manipulative man-eater he’d first dubbed her as. Not that this made her any less dangerous. Quite the contrary. His fascination with her had ratcheted up significantly. And not all of it was sexual. He’d enjoyed her company at dinner. She was provocative and took great pleasure in testing his boundaries, but she was also very well-read and had surprised him with her knowledge of Las Vegas past and present.
She was more clever and insightful than he’d thus far given her credit for. She knew her limitations and had a knack for hiring people who were experts in their field. It’s why her hotel was so well run, he’d decided after eight days of listening to Madison go on and on about how smart Scarlett was. For the first couple of days his niece’s hero worship had worried him. But Madison hadn’t mentioned L.A. once in the past several days, and he was happy to let her praise Scarlett’s virtues if it meant his niece was going to give college a try.
“Hello, Logan.” Scarlett had finished her business with the pit boss and caught sight of him. “Are you looking for Madison?”
“No.” He held his ground against the onslaught of sensation that battered him as she drew close enough for him to smell her perfume and see the gold shards sparking in her green eyes. “I came to return this.” He handed her an envelope containing the storage key.
“You’re done with it, then?” She slid the envelope into the black leather folder that contained her daily notes. “Did you find what you needed?”