Читать книгу Las Vegas Nights - Cat Schield - Страница 9
ОглавлениеWhile 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.”
