Las Vegas Nights. Cat Schield

Las Vegas Nights - Cat Schield


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such a thing. “It’s what she’s spent her whole life training for.”

      “Just because you think your life is going to go a certain way doesn’t always mean that it’s the best thing for you.”

      What was Logan trying to tell her? She’d invited him up here for advice. Was he being impartial, trying to get her to look at both sides, or was he couching his opinion as questions?

      “Do you think I should tell her?”

      “What do you want to do?”

      “Give the problem to someone else.” She arched her eyebrows. “Feel like being the bearer of bad news?”

      “I’m not going to get involved. Tiberius left the files to you.”

      “And I asked you to help me make a decision.”

      “You asked for my advice,” he corrected.

      “Same thing.”

      “Not really, but since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you that I think being honest with Harper is the way to go. Give her the file, don’t tell her what’s in it and let her make up her own mind about what she finds.”

      His advice didn’t make the weight slide off her shoulders. “I don’t want to keep anything important from Harper. And I could be jumping to conclusions. It’s completely possible that Harper is Ross’s daughter.” But deep in her heart she believed she was right and that telling her sister what she suspected would do more harm than good. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” She set her hand on his. “Thank you.”

      For a few seconds he went still beneath her touch. Before she had time to register the way his mouth tightened, he was on his feet.

      “I’ve got a bunch of work waiting for me back at the office,” he said. “Thanks for the tea.”

      “You didn’t drink any of it.” He’d almost reached her front door by the time she’d regained her wits and chased after him. “Logan.” She didn’t reach him in time to stop him from walking out the door, but her breathless voice made him pause. “Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

      His refusal came through loud and clear before the words left his lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

      She was ready for his rebuff. “Oh, not like that.” She plastered on a lively grin and laughed. “You certainly have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” To her relief, he looked surprised by her reaction. Conceited man. He really expected her to take his rejection hard. “I thought we could discuss what to do for Madison’s birthday party. She’s only going to turn eighteen once and without her parents here to celebrate with her, I thought we should do something special to mark the occasion.”

      “What did you have in mind?”

      “Have dinner with me tomorrow and I’ll lay it all out for you.”

      “Can’t you tell me now?”

      “I don’t have my notes and I need to get ready for a conference call in half an hour. How about eight o’clock tomorrow? I’ll get us a table at Chez Roberto.”

      “Eight.”

      He nodded curtly, but when she expected him to walk away, he didn’t. She stopped breathing while she waited for him to move or speak. His intense gaze trailed over her features before locking on her mouth.

      A thousand times this past week she’d relived his kisses. Like some silly teenager she’d tried to guess how he felt about her when logic counseled it was nothing but simple lust. Hadn’t his absence this week demonstrated his lack of interest? When men wanted her, she received flowers, offers of dinner or, at the very least, phone calls. From Logan: nothing.

      And it was driving her crazy.

      Which is why she’d concocted the excuse for tomorrow’s dinner. She was perfectly capable of arranging a fabulous birthday party for Madison by herself. In fact, everything was already handled. She just wanted to spend more time with Logan. And she’d take him any way she could get him.

      To her surprise, he cupped her head in his palm and dragged his thumb across her cheek. Mesmerized by the contact, she grabbed the door frame to steady herself as he leaned down and captured her lips in a demanding kiss. Before her shock faded, he lifted his mouth from hers.

      “Eight,” he repeated, voice and expression impassive. A heartbeat later he strode off down the hall, leaving a weak-kneed, much-bemused Scarlett in his wake.

      * * *

      He’d done it again. Logan strode into his house and threw his car keys on the counter. He was utterly incapable of a clean getaway. He’d nearly made it out of Scarlett’s suite when she’d stopped him. He should have given her some excuse and gotten out of there. Instead he’d lingered and agreed to have dinner with her again. And why? So they could discuss plans for Madison’s birthday party. He suspected she had the whole thing planned already. This was just an excuse to torment him over another rich chocolate dessert.

      And he’d agreed. As if he hadn’t guessed what she was up to. Worse, he’d then succumbed to the urge to kiss her again. Demonstrating once more that she’d completely mesmerized him. She no longer had to stir him up with her sharp wit and sexy smiles. Now he just took any excuse to seize her delectable lips for his own.

      Madison was seated on the couch in the family room as Logan walked past. Beside her was the boy she’d been seeing a great deal of, Trent something, the son of one of Scarlett’s restaurant managers. She’d been instrumental in introducing the teenagers, which had naturally made Logan suspicious of the boy. But a phone call to one of his employees had provided the sort of information on Trent that kept Logan from getting overprotective.

      Currently they were joined at the hip and shoulder, both peering at the laptop balanced on the boy’s lap. Madison’s happy smile was the first he’d seen in this house. It lifted his spirits.

      “Hi, Uncle Logan.”

      “Hello, Madison. Trent.” Logan gave the boy a friendly nod. “Madison, are you planning on sticking around for dinner?”

      “Yes. Is it okay if Trent joins us?”

      “The more the merrier.”

      Logan left them and headed to the master bedroom. As badly as he wanted to know what they were looking at on the computer, he left his question unasked. The boy was a good kid. Spending time with him improved Madison’s attitude.

      And all the credit belonged to Scarlett. Instead of lecturing the eighteen-year-old about what would be the best thing for her to do, Scarlett had talked with her. Let Madison express her dreams and ambitions and found a way to broach the topic of college in a positive fashion. By introducing her to kids her own age who were college-bound and excited about it, Madison had started talking about college again. Granted, with little enthusiasm, but he shouldn’t expect miracles.

      If Scarlett actually pulled this off, he would owe her a favor. The thought of it made him shudder. What would she ask in return? Something difficult for him to deliver, no doubt.

      After a half hour of energetic laps in the pool, he showered and headed back toward the kitchen. To his amusement, Madison had chosen to host her new friend in the dining room. She’d had his housekeeper, Mrs. Sanchez, set the table with all the crystal and fine china. Usually, Logan grabbed a plate and headed into his study to work on whatever he’d left hanging throughout the day. When Madison was home, he made an effort to give her a stable family experience and ate in the kitchen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d used his dining room.

      Logan sat down at the head of the table and waited only until the teenagers had joined him before launching into his interrogation.

      “Madison tells me you are going to be a sophomore next fall,” he said to Trent, determined to get his money’s worth out of his housekeeper’s roast beef with garlic mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus.


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