Las Vegas Nights. Cat Schield

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Las Vegas Nights - Cat Schield


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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 shook 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


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