Las Vegas Nights. Cat Schield

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      An hour ticked by, bringing her no closer to sleep. Logan’s presence in the living room was far too distracting. At last she got up and slipped into a hot-pink cotton lounge set. She stood with her hand on the doorknob for a few minutes, debating what excuse she’d use for wanting his company. In the end it didn’t matter because when she reached the living room, Logan was nowhere to be found.

      Her disappointment was difficult to ignore as she headed into the kitchen for a bottle of water. Instead of drinking it, she set the cool bottle against her still-aching jaw. The coolness washed through her and without warning, tears sprang to her eyes. Normally she’d blink them away and shove down her unhappiness. Never show weakness. She’d learned that early in Hollywood. But being abandoned by Logan was too much on top of everything else she’d gone through tonight.

      As the tears began working their way down her cheeks, the door to her suite opened. Heart pounding in sudden alarm, Scarlett was too overcome by panic to move. When Logan stepped into view, she was awash in relief.

      “You came back.”

      His gaze swung in her direction. “I never left.”

      “You weren’t here when I came to get water.”

      “I stepped outside to talk to Lucas.” He gestured with his cell phone. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” As he spoke, he narrowed the distance between them. “Is your jaw still sore?”

      He’d moved within reach and before she could question the wisdom of her actions, Scarlett pressed herself against his strong body. She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt him tense. But when his hands touched her shoulders, it wasn’t to push her away but to gather her still closer.

      “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re safe.”

      And for the first time in a long time, she knew she was. Letting someone take care of her wasn’t comfortable for Scarlett. She’d developed a deep and wide streak of distrust not long after reaching puberty. The older brother of one of her fellow actors had cornered her in a dressing room and stuck his tongue down her throat. Afterward he’d threatened to say she’d come on to him if she told anyone what had happened. She’d been twelve years old at the time and was just beginning to understand what it meant to be a woman.

      “I’m not always strong,” she told him, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “Usually I’m terrified that what I’m doing is completely wrong.”

      Logan stroked her hair. “You’ve sure fooled me.”

      “That was the idea.”

      * * *

      Logan drew Scarlett toward the couch. They sat together in the middle with little space between them. Scarlett snuggled against his side and her lips curved into a dreamy smile when his arm came around her shoulder. It was a serene, domestic moment, unlike their normally tempestuous encounters. The invasion of her home had cracked her shell, knocking her off her game.

      For the first time he didn’t question whether this was honest fear or just a performance to make him sympathetic toward her. He’d seen her acting range. She could transform herself into whatever played into a man’s fantasy. Since he’d criticized the way she dressed, he’d noticed her wardrobe had become more professional. Was she donning another costume, one designed to win him over? Did she even comprehend what she was doing? Or was it second nature to her?

      “You’re a hard woman to read, Scarlett Fontaine.”

      Tonight, she’d been as rattled as he’d ever seen her. So much so she couldn’t bring herself to tell him she was afraid.

      Her sigh brushed his neck. “I hate to admit it, but you bring out the worst in me.”

      He was silent a long moment. “Why is that?” He asked the question, not expecting she’d tell him the truth.

      “I guess I want too much for you to like me.”

      Her declaration caught him off guard. Had she recovered her equilibrium? Was this an act? She’d been prickly when he’d told her he wasn’t going to take advantage of her. She hadn’t appreciated his chivalry. And she’d been right to say that few men would’ve let her go to bed alone. Sitting alone out here with nothing but an unlocked door between them was a harsh test of his willpower.

      “Why do you care what I think?”

      “Because I like you and I know you don’t approve of me.”

      He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why do you care what I think?”

      “There aren’t a lot of people who don’t like me.” She huffed out a small laugh. “I know how that sounds, but I’ve always had a knack for winning people over.”

      “I’ve seen you in action many times.”

      “I can hear it in your voice. You don’t approve of how I behave.” She sounded grumpy.

      Against his better judgment, Logan found her dismay charming. “Does it occur to you how ridiculous it sounds to say you want me to like you when you’ve been provocative and difficult at every turn?”

      “I’m simply responding to your scorn.” She flashed him a baleful glance. “Call it self-preservation.”

      Hadn’t he been just as guilty of provoking her? “Should we call a truce?”

      “And have you lose interest in me because things become boring between us?” Her green eyes had regained some of their wicked sparkle. “Half the reason you find me so attractive is because I keep you guessing.”

      “You’re sure I find you attractive?”

      He’d no sooner uttered the challenge when her hand curved across his thigh. His muscles twitched in response and her lips arced impishly. That she was touching him to prove a point was the only thing that kept him from flipping her onto her back.

      “If you knew all my secrets,” she said, “you’d find me deadly dull.”

      “I can’t imagine that’s possible.”

      To hell with his earlier stance on not taking advantage of her in a vulnerable state. There was only so much temptation a man could take. And the pressure behind his zipper demanded that he give up the fight.

      He bent down and captured her mouth in a slow kiss meant to satisfy his need for deeper intimacy with her. She moaned beneath his lips and twisted her body until she was sliding backward. Unwilling to be parted from her even for a second, Logan broke off the kiss and scooped his hands beneath her ass, repositioning her with her spine flat on the couch, his weight crushing her into its soft cushions.

      “Are you okay?” he asked noticing her slight wince. He pushed a hair away from her face and eyed the spot where the intruder had hit her. “If your jaw is hurting, we should stop.”

      “Don’t worry about it.”

      Logan wasn’t convinced. “You’ve swelled up a bit where he hit you.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Really?”

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