Читать книгу Las Vegas Nights: At Odds with the Heiress - Cat Schield - Страница 13

Seven

Humming happily, Scarlett dived into the clear, cool water of the private pool located on the same floor as her private suite. She loved to swim, and tried to spend at least thirty minutes in the morning doing laps. If she had a little more time, she floated across the dappled surface and enjoyed the lush vegetation planted around the pool deck.

She ached in all sorts of muscles this morning. Making love on a couch was just the sort of thing she might have expected from Logan. Waking up to his soft kisses and hard erection had been a nice surprise. If she’d been asked to bet how he’d behave in the cold light of a Las Vegas dawn, she would have put her money on him returning to his impatient, bad-tempered self. And she would have lost every cent.

Not only did he wake up aroused. He was playful in the morning. And unexpectedly romantic. For a woman who was used to being treated like some sort of trophy, Logan’s willingness to make her coffee and feed her orange slices had given her hope that she wasn’t simply a conquest.

Her happy glow persisted through the rest of the morning. At noon she headed to her office, where reality intruded. The script Bobby had promised to send sat in the middle of her desk. She tore open the package and scanned the short note he’d included. Even though she’d already decided against auditioning, there was no stopping the excitement that rushed through her. New scripts meant new opportunities and so few had come her way in the past few years.

Although she had no intention of returning to Hollywood and told herself it was foolish to get worked up about the project, she cleared her afternoon schedule and read the entire script twice. The writing was really good. The story fresh and daring. It was the exact thing she’d longed to do, but no one would give her a chance.

Almost as if on cue, as soon as she completed her second pass, her cell rang. It was Bobby. She set the pages aside.

“Well?” He sounded confident and smug as if he already knew what her reaction would be. “Aren’t you perfect?”

“I don’t know if I’m perfect,” she hedged, struggling to keep enthusiasm out of her voice. “But it’s a wonderful script and it’s going to be a great show.”

“Then you’ll come and test?”

Here was where she had to face reality. “I really can’t. I live in Las Vegas now. I’m responsible for this hotel. I can’t just abandon everything and run off to L.A. because of a great part.” Besides, there was no guarantee that she’d get the role, and being rejected for something so perfect for her would be a devastating blow.

“The director’s an old friend of yours.”

“Who’d you get?”

“Chase Reynolds.”

Damn. As fabulous as Chase was in front of the camera, the former actor had proven himself to be even more worthy behind it. “He’ll do a great job.”

“So will you.”

“Bobby...” Her tone had taken on a desperate note.

“Gotta run, Scarlett. I’ll be in touch later this week.”

The call ended before she could protest further. Scarlett’s head fell back. The ceiling became a blank canvas for her thoughts. She wouldn’t be the first actor to live outside of Hollywood and practice her trade. But how many of those had a demanding position as executive manager of a hotel? Not that she was all that hands-on. She’d hired the right people for key jobs and was little more than a figurehead. Wasn’t that how Logan perceived her?

Logan.

Now that they’d taken things to the next level, this was a terrible time for her to be away from him. But she’d never let a man stand in the way of her career before. Of course, she’d never had a man like Logan Wolfe either. And keeping him there was worth a little sacrifice. A little sacrifice, maybe, but this was a fabulous part in a groundbreaking new show. A show that could give her career an enormous boost.

If she still wanted a career as an actress. Did she?

Scarlett surged to her feet and exited her office. In the excitement of getting the script, she’d almost forgotten the other pressing problem facing her. That of telling Violet and Harper that Tiberius had accumulated files on them. And that those files had been stolen. She’d start with Violet. See how that encounter went. Perhaps she’d even pick her half sister’s brain about the best way to approach Harper. As well as how much to tell her.

After letting her assistant know where she’d be, Scarlett headed to the walkway that would take her to Fontaine Chic. She sent Violet a quick text to find out where they could meet up and followed that with a call to Madison.

“I’m sorry to make this so last-minute,” Scarlett said to the young actress wannabe, “but I’m going to have to cancel dinner tonight. In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the night off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Weren’t you telling me something about a party one of your friends was having?”

Concerned that Madison wasn’t spending enough time with kids her own age, Scarlett had arranged for her to meet some college-bound teenagers that Logan couldn’t help but approve of. Sensible kids from good families, they were keen to start at their various schools in the fall, and Madison had caught some of their enthusiasm. Another couple weeks with them and Logan’s niece would be ready to resume an academic path.

“Trent is having a few friends over.”

“Then you should go. You’ve worked hard all week. Time to have a little fun.”

“I’ll tell Uncle Logan that you said that.”

Scarlett winced. As amazing as last night had been, she wasn’t sure Logan would appreciate hearing her make suggestions about his niece’s social life. “Oh, please don’t.”

“Why not? He really likes you.”

“He does?” Scarlett had reached Fontaine Chic and her steps slowed.

“Sure. Just like you have a thing for him.”

Why fight it? “I have a huge thing for your uncle. And we’re just starting to get along. I don’t want to risk annoying him.”

Madison laughed. “After the way he was smiling this morning, I don’t think you have to worry about it. See you tomorrow.”

Left to muse over Logan’s good humor, Scarlett didn’t even notice she’d passed by Violet until her sister grabbed her arm and gave her a shake.

“You were certainly miles away,” Violet said with a curious smile. “Thinking of anyone in particular?”

Scarlett felt the jolt all the way to her toes. Was Violet fishing? There was no way she could know what Scarlett and Logan had been up to the night before. Nevertheless, a guilty flush crept up her chest.

“Nothing like that.”

“Look at your poor jaw.” Violet murmured, abruptly sober. “How bad is it?”

“I’ll survive.” Scarlett brushed off her sister’s concern. “But the incident last night is why I need to talk to you.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Let’s go to your office so we won’t be disturbed.”

“That’s the worst place we could go. How about we head to Lalique?”

The centerpiece of Violet’s hotel was an enormous three-story crystal chandelier that enclosed an elegant two-story bar in dazzling, sparkling ropes. It was three million dollars’ worth of oh, wow and set the tone for her decor. Like the sky-blue in Harper’s Fontaine Ciel, crystal was Violet’s signature. Multifaceted and ever-changing, clear crystals sparkled above the gaming tables and from the fixtures that lined the walkways. Pillars sparkled with embedded lights made to resemble crystals and all the waitstaff and dealers wore rhinestone-accented black uniforms.

Settling into a quiet corner table, Violet ordered two glasses of sparkling water with lime and an olive pâté appetizer to share. She then turned to her sister.

“Something is obviously bothering you,” Violet commented.

Scarlett gathered a large breath and began. “I told you how Tiberius had left me his files.”

“Yes. Have you had a chance to dig into any of them?” Violet’s eyes were bright with interest. “What kind of dirt did he have on people?”

“I haven’t had time to look at more than a couple.” This was the part that was tough. “There were files on our father and you, Harper and me.”

Violet didn’t look surprised. “I can only imagine what he dug up about Ross.” Unlike Scarlett, Violet had known from an early age that she was Ross Fontaine’s illegitimate daughter. She’d never had any contact with him, but was pretty sure he knew he was her father. That he’d refused to acknowledge her had been hard on Violet.

“Quite a lot. But none of it was that damning. I mean, we all know he was a philandering jerk, but mostly Tiberius was interested in keeping an eye on his running of Fontaine Hotels and Resorts.”

“So the reason you’re upset has nothing to do with Ross?”

“Not directly.”

“Spill it.”

“The files were stolen last night.”

“That’s what the thief was after?”

“I don’t know for sure. He took other files as well. Ones that had nothing to do with us. Tiberius was keeping an eye on his brother-in-law. Almost half the box was filled with stuff on Stone Properties. Financials. Their employees. I just glanced at it.”

Violet nodded. “Tiberius hated Preston for the way he treated his sister. Blamed him for her death.”

Scarlett’s pulse jerked. “Why is that?”

“Preston’s priority was the company he took over after his father-in-law died. He wasn’t much of a father or a husband. Unfortunately, Fiona Stone adored her husband and couldn’t handle his neglect. She turned to drugs and alcohol to cope and died of an overdose when JT was about twelve.”

JT Stone ran the family’s operations in Las Vegas. A handsome, enigmatic businessman, he didn’t socialize with the Fontaine sisters, but Violet had gotten to know him a little because he was Tiberius’s nephew.

“How awful to lose his mom so young,” Scarlett said, thinking of all the substance abuse she’d seen ruin lives during her years in Hollywood. “Anyway, in addition to those files, the guy grabbed the files Tiberius had on all of us.” Scarlett noticed Violet wasn’t at all surprised. “You knew?”

“I suspected.” She grinned. “Anything interesting?”

Scarlett felt a little of her dread ease. “There was a great deal on my time in L.A. Nothing too shocking there. I kept the paparazzi busy for several years during my dark period. Your file was the thinnest of the bunch.”

Violet sighed. “I’m deadly dull.”

“You should do something to fix that,” Scarlett teased before growing serious once more. “But getting back to the problem. Last night the thief stole all our files. Including one I pulled on Harper’s mother.” She paused, still unsure how much to share what she knew with Violet.

“If there’s nothing much in the files, why would he risk getting caught stealing them?”

“He might have been fishing. I don’t know if he went there looking for other files and just grabbed up whatever he could get or if he came specifically to take our family’s files.”

“But you said there was nothing of interest in them.”

Again Scarlett hesitated. She knew she could trust Violet, but didn’t want to anger Harper by spilling her secret. If it even was a secret. Maybe Harper knew. Maybe Grandfather knew. Maybe Scarlett and Violet were the only two in the dark.

But she didn’t think that scenario was likely. Family meant too much to Henry Fontaine. It’s why he’d given his illegitimate granddaughters the same shot at running Fontaine Hotels and Resorts as he’d given his legitimate one. Scarlett wasn’t sure how he’d react if he found out Harper wasn’t his granddaughter.

“Scarlett,” Violet prompted, her tone tinged with alarm. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s not about you. It’s about Harper.”

Violet laughed. “Harper? If anyone doesn’t have skeletons in their closet it’s her.”

“It actually has to do with her mother. And what I discovered in the files has the potential of turning Harper’s world upside down.”

“If it’s that bad,” Violet said, dismay clouding her expression, “I don’t want to ask what you unearthed.”

Scarlett was relieved that Violet was letting her off the hook. The secret wasn’t hers to share. If she told Harper, and if she in turn wanted Violet to know, that was different.

“Do I tell her?” Scarlett would love it if Violet told her what to do. “Would you want to know?”

Violet took a long time pondering Scarlett’s questions. “I can’t answer for Harper, but I don’t think I’d want to know. Maybe it’s awfully naive of me to think that anything that’s been buried this long should stay hidden.”

“Which is the way I was leaning before the files were stolen. But what happens if the guy figures out the same thing I did and the information gets out? She’ll be blindsided. At least if I tell her, she can prepare.”

“It’s something she needs to prepare for?” Violet frowned. “In that case I don’t think I can tell you what to do. On one hand, she deserves to know the truth.”

So did other people. Like Grandfather. But Scarlett couldn’t bear to be the one who damaged Harper’s relationship with the man she looked up to and adored.

“On the other hand, the truth might ruin everything.”

* * *

Logan entered his house and left his briefcase on the table in the foyer. Tugging at his tie, he strode into the kitchen to fetch a cold beer. He’d spent the better part of the afternoon in a meeting with a new client discussing a proposal that would be worth several million dollars over the next year or so.

Most of the new business Wolfe Security generated was handled by his sales staff. But every now and then a project came along where the client demanded to meet with Logan or Lucas. Considering this was the sort of deal that would strengthen their global-market position, Logan was willing to meet with the guy, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he was.

Beer in hand, he headed toward the master bedroom, intent on grabbing a shower and changing. He was heading back to Tiberius’s storage unit next. Something about last night’s theft had been nagging at him. Maybe another journey through the files would spark inspiration.

A tiny part of him recognized that visiting the storage unit was an excuse to avoid what he really wanted to do—spend time with Scarlett. All day long he’d caught himself reaching for the phone to call her. He’d known making love with her would aggravate his fascination with her. It was the reason that he’d resisted crossing that line for as long as he had.

He slowed as he neared Madison’s room. “You’re home early,” he remarked, spying her facedown on her bed, feet kicking the air in slow sweeps.

She looked up from her reading, her gaze slow to focus on him. “Scarlett gave me the night off. Said she needed to take care of something.” Madison’s smile grew sly. “Are you planning on staying out all night again?”

He ignored her question and asked one of his own. “What are you reading?”

“A script for a brand-new TV show. It’s terrific. There’s a part in here I’d be perfect for.”

“Where did you get it?”

Madison’s expression settled into worried lines. “I took it from Scarlett’s office. I’ll get it back before she even notices it’s missing.”

So Scarlett was reading scripts. And not just any scripts but ones featuring teenage girls. Surely she didn’t think tempting the seventeen-year-old with juicy acting jobs that would never materialize was a good way to convince Madison to go to college? Did Scarlett think that once he’d given her his trust, she could go and do what she thought was right where Madison was concerned?

He prowled into the room. “Give me the script.” His tone brooked no argument and he received none.

Madison sat up and handed him the bound pages. “I know I should have told her I wanted to read it, but she sounded so distracted when we spoke I didn’t think she’d even notice.”

To her credit, his niece sounded more apprehensive than argumentative. That was a change from the sullen teenager who’d appeared on his doorstep two weeks ago. Ten minutes ago he’d have been happy to give Scarlett credit for the transformation. That was before he found out she was looking at television projects.

“I’m sure if you’d asked her, she’d have let you read the script.”

“You’re right. I should have asked.” Madison crossed her legs and gave him her most solemn expression. “When you give it back to her tell her I’m sorry.”

Giving Madison’s repentant attitude a distracted nod, Logan continued toward his room. He finished showering and dressing in record time and was back on the road before his hair had a chance to dry. The script on the passenger seat beside him kept his irritation fueled. Scarlett had assured him she was done with Hollywood. So why was she bothering with a script?

Before leaving the house, he’d texted her and found out she was heading back to her office after meeting with Violet. He had twenty minutes to ponder what had passed between the sisters as he navigated the traffic between his house and the Strip.

The floor containing the executive offices at Fontaine Richesse was still active at seven o’clock. He nodded brusquely at the employees he passed as he strode the hall to Scarlett’s large corner office. She was behind her desk, attention focused on the computer, when he entered. In the split second it took her to notice him, his heart bumped powerfully in his chest.

She was as beautiful in her gold silk blouse as she’d been last night wrapped in nothing but his arms. With her hair scraped back in a low ponytail and simple gold jewelry at her ears and throat, she looked every inch the successful executive. And nothing at all like the passionate temptress who’d unraveled his control.

“Logan.” Her smile drew him across the room to her. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Instead of circling the desk and snatching her into his arms, he sat down in her guest chair and dropped the script onto the uncluttered surface between them. Her fingers slid off the keyboard and onto her lap.

She frowned. “Where’d you get that?”

“Madison had it.”

“Madison?” Acting as if it was of little importance, Scarlett picked up the pages and dropped them into the trash. “She must have come by while I was meeting with Violet.”

“Why do you have a script, Scarlett?”

She got up from her desk and circled around to lean against the front. “A producer friend of mine sent it to me.”

“Let me guess, you know a teenager who would be perfect for his new TV show.”

“What?” Her eyes went wide as his accusation sunk in. “No. Of course not. Is that what you think?”

“What else should I think?”

“That maybe I was offered a part. A good part. Something I would be perfect for.” Her tone was insistent, defensive.

“I thought you were done with Hollywood.”

She hesitated slightly before saying, “I am.” But it was a telling pause.

What happened to all her protestations about how difficult her life as an actor had been? Was all of that merely a defense mechanism to keep disappointment at bay? When the opportunity came along to resume her acting career, would she jump at it?

“Of course I am,” she insisted, her voice gaining conviction. “I have a life here in Las Vegas.”

“But if this opportunity had come along five years ago and you had to choose, which life would you have picked?”

“That’s not a fair question.”

Her protest told him her answer was not to his liking. “You’d have chosen to stay in L.A.”

“Probably. But only because acting was all I knew. Moving to Las Vegas and taking over the running of this hotel wasn’t an easy decision for me to make. I had no experience. Frankly, I was terrified of making a mistake.”

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Yes, but do everyone’s mistakes mean millions of dollars are at risk?” With a deep breath she clamped down on her escalating aggravation until her composure returned. “All this speculation is a waste of time. What I might have chosen to do five years ago has no bearing on what I do today.”

Relief washed over him. She wasn’t going to leave Las Vegas. Leave him. “I guess I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

She widened her eyes dramatically. “Was that an apology?”

“No.” He pulled her onto his lap. “This is.”

His kiss let her feel all his frustration and longing. The emotions she aroused troubled him. How could he mistrust her and still want her this much? Saying it was simple lust didn’t ring true. She’d become his last thought at night and his first one in the morning. He was mesmerized by her beauty and intrigued by the layers she kept hidden.

“Feel like ordering room service in my suite?” she asked him once he’d let her come up for air.

“Maybe later. I want to check out the files in the storage unit.”

“They’re not there.”

“Where are they?”

“I had them moved to a secure records storage unit this morning.”

“I wish you’d told me that’s what you were doing.”

“Why? They’re perfectly safe. Grady was eager to get to work and I feel better with them someplace secure.”

“I’m not convinced keeping the files is a good idea.”

“I can’t part with them until someone I trust goes through everything. Plus, their historic value can’t be measured until we know what’s there.”

“Wasn’t last night proof of how dangerous they could be for you? Tiberius lived awfully well for a man whose casino was barely staying out of the red.”

“What are you saying?”

“If it was a plot for a TV series, what would you deduce?”

“That Tiberius was blackmailing people?”

“That may have been what got him killed.”

“Even if I had a clue what to look for, I’m not planning on blackmailing anyone.”

“Maybe not—”

“Maybe not?” She interrupted in mock outrage. “Definitely not.”

“Very well, then. Definitely not. But just because you and I know that doesn’t mean Tiberius’s victims know that.”

Nonplussed, she stared at him for several seconds. “Then I guess the smartest thing for me to do is get with a lawyer and make certain that if anything happens to me, the files go public.”

Her calm determination impressed the hell out of him. This was no scared female in need of rescue. She was a woman who survived by her wits as well as her beauty.

Logan tightened his hold around her waist. “Then I guess until you meet with an attorney, I should plan on sticking with you.”

“Twenty-four/seven?”

“Whatever it takes.”