Las Vegas Nights: At Odds with the Heiress. Cat Schield
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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,