At Odds with the Heiress. Cat Schield

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      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 СКАЧАТЬ