At Odds with the Heiress. Cat Schield

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      Was he referring to the facade she used to keep Logan in the dark about the way he stirred her body and soul? He was completely mad if he believed she was going to give up her one defense against him.

      “Don’t you mean the one I use to manipulate them to my will?” she taunted, her breathless tone coming easily under the influence of Logan’s domineering presence.

      Scarlett prided herself on being able to read men. Usually it was pretty easy. Most of them enjoyed being powerful and having beautiful women available for their pleasure. Even the ones who appeared as sweet as lambs harbored a little caveman inside them.

      Logan didn’t fall neatly into the bucket where she lumped the rest of his gender. He seemed genuinely immune to her wiles and that’s why she provoked him at every opportunity. She was challenged by his lack of physical attraction to her. And in a twisted way, because she knew he’d never step across the line, his indifference gave her the freedom to let her sensuality run free. It was quite liberating.

      “One of these days someone is going to see past your flirtation to the truth,” Logan warned, his voice a husky growl.

      She arched her eyebrows. “Which is what?”

      “That what you need isn’t some tame lapdog.”

      “I don’t?”

      “No.” Espresso eyes watched her with lazy confidence. “What you need is a man who will barge right past your defenses and drive you wild.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous,” she retorted, struggling to keep her eyes off his well-shaped lips and her mind from drifting into the daydream of being kissed silly by the imposing Logan Wolfe.

      “You can lie to yourself all you want,” he said. “But don’t bother lying to me.”

      It wasn’t until he captured her fingers that she realized she’d flattened her palm against his rib cage. She tugged to free her hand, but he tightened his grip.

      The sexual tension he roused in her went from simmer to roiling boil. “Let me go.”

      “You started it.”

      She wasn’t completely sure that was true. “What’s gotten into you today?”

      His lips kicked up at the corners. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you lose your cool. I like it.”

      How had he turned the tables on her in such a short time? She pressed her thighs together, but this action made the ache worse, not better.

      What you need is a man who will barge right past your defenses and drive you wild. Thank goodness he’d never find out just how much she liked the sound of that.

      “I’m really not interested in what you—”

      She never had a chance to finish the thought. Before she guessed his intention, Logan lowered his lips to hers and cut off her denial. Slow and deliberate, his hot mouth moved across hers. Her startled murmur of surprise became a weak moan of surrender as she opened to his tongue slicking over the seam of her lips.

      Canting her head to give him better access to her mouth, she slid her fingers into his hair and held on for dear life as her world shifted its orbit. If his intention had been to drive her wild, he achieved his goal in less than three seconds. Every nerve in her body cried out for his touch as he cupped the side of her neck and let his tongue duel with hers.

      Scarlett wanted to cry out as she experienced the delicious pleasure of his broad chest crushing her breasts, but he’d stolen her breath. Then the sound of the doors opening reached them both at the same time. Logan broke the kiss. His chest heaved as he sucked in air. Eyes hard and unreadable, he scrutinized her face, cataloging every crack running through her composure. Scarlett felt as exposed as if she’d stepped into her casino wearing only her underwear.

      Breathless, she asked, “Did that feel like acting?”

      His hands slid away from her in a slow, torturous caress. He stepped back, used his foot to block the doors from closing and gestured her toward the hallway beyond the elevator.

      One dark eyebrow lifted. “Needs more investigating before I can say one way or another.”

      Two

      While 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 СКАЧАТЬ