Las Vegas Nights. Cat Schield
of her phone. Driven by an irresistible sense of urgency, Logan’s pace quickened as he made his way through the casino. By the time the elevator deposited him on Scarlett’s floor, he was deeply concerned at her lack of response.
Rounding the corner to her suite, he noticed the door was wide-open. When he spied her on the floor, he ran the rest of the way down the hall. He entered her suite just as she lifted a hand to her jaw and opened her eyes. He knelt at her side as she groaned in discomfort.
“What happened?” he demanded, his throat constricting as he surveyed her for damage.
“I answered the door and a man hit me.” She sounded bewildered and weak.
“What did he look like?”
“He was wearing a ski mask.” She blinked in disbelief. “All I remember is that his hand shot out. Then everything went black.”
“How long ago?” Logan dialed the Fontaine Richesse’s security office.
“It was quarter to eight. Someone knocked. I thought it was you at the door.” Her gaze found his. “I was mad at you for showing up early. My hair wasn’t done and I hadn’t finished putting on my makeup.”
“You look beautiful,” he told her brusquely.
A voice came on the line and Logan quickly outlined what had happened. Security would call the police and get working on tracking the guy who’d broken in. A man in a black windbreaker and jeans would be a challenge to find in a hotel as large as Richesse.
As soon as he hung up, he scooped Scarlett into his arms and headed toward her bedroom.
“No!” She tugged at his suit coat to get his attention. “Not in there...”
“I’m not planning on taking advantage of you.”
“I had trouble deciding what to wear tonight, so...” She stared at him, her green eyes dazed. “Logan Wolfe, did you just make a joke?”
He raised his eyebrows in answer. “Where would you like me to put you down?”
“The couch would be fine. And then if you wouldn’t mind getting me the package of lima beans that’s in the freezer.”
“Lima beans?” He eased her down on the sofa and settled a pillow behind her head.
“I happen to like lima beans.”
“No one likes lima beans.”
“Not even someone as health-conscious as you?”
“Not even me.” He brought her the package of frozen beans and gently applied it to her bruised jaw. “Where’s your ibuprofen?”
“In the kitchen cabinet to the right of the sink.”
He fetched the pills and brought her a glass of water. Her gaze tracked his movements as warily as a cat watching a large dog who’d invaded her territory. Snatching a throw off a nearby chair, he spread it over her legs. A part of him realized he was fussing over her, but he needed to act. And since charging out into the night in search of her assailant wasn’t an option, seeing to her comfort made him feel as if he was accomplishing something.
“Nothing in here looks disturbed. Do you keep your valuables locked away?”
“I have a safe for my jewelry. There really isn’t much else of value here.” She glanced toward the dining room table. “The files.”
He followed her gaze. “The ones you took from the storage unit?” From where he stood he could see that the box was still on the table, but the number of files looked smaller. “Some are missing.”
“Which ones?”
She swung her feet off the sofa and started getting to her feet. Before she’d fully straightened, her body swayed. Logan caught her around the waist and drew her against him. Her head found his shoulder as she leaned more fully into him.
“Slow down.” He should have immediately deposited her back on the couch, but the feel of her, soft and yielding against him, was too appealing. His palm rode her strong spine up and down.
“I have to know which ones are missing. What if the information about Harper gets out? I need to tell her what I discovered.”
“Nothing can be done about that at this second. You were hit hard enough to black out. I think you should go to the hospital.”
“There’s no need for that.”
Before Logan could argue further, a hard knock sounded on her door.
“Sit. We’ll discuss the hospital as soon as you make a report to security and the police.”
“I’m not going.”
Grinding his teeth at her stubbornness, Logan resettled Scarlett on the sofa and went to let in Security.
* * *
By the time she’d given her statement and her suite had been dusted for prints, Scarlett’s agitation had reached an acute stage. Logan’s presence calmed her anxiety at having her privacy so roughly violated. The package of frozen lima beans had helped numb her jaw, but nothing could ease her worry over the missing files.
The thief had taken the files for Harper and her mother, Scarlett and their grandfather. In addition, although she hadn’t yet looked through the files that had originally been in the box, Scarlett thought two of those might be missing, as well.
“I really couldn’t have gotten through this without you,” she told Logan after he’d walked the uniformed officers to the door.
“You needed me. I was here.”
And now she sensed he wished he were elsewhere. Whether to chase down the man who’d stolen the files or just to be on his way, Scarlett wasn’t sure.
“I suppose you need to get home.”
Inwardly she cringed at the obvious reluctance in her voice. Sure, he’d been acting solicitous and protective, but that was how he’d treat any damsel in distress. She shouldn’t take it personally. No matter how wonderful it felt to have him hold her in his arms and treat her as if she were made of the finest porcelain.
“I called Madison to let her know where I was and sent one of my guys over to keep an eye on her.”
“I’m sure she’ll love that,” Scarlett retorted, her skeptical tone masking her need to snuggle against his powerful chest and take comfort from the strength of his arms around her. For such a hard, unyielding man, he’d demonstrated he could also be gentle. She found the combination both calmed and excited her.
“He’ll watch the house from the road. She’ll never know.”
His somber words caused her uneasiness to spike. “Do you think she’s in danger?”
“No.” The single word came out too fast and too sharp.
Scarlett didn’t find his frown reassuring. “I don’t believe you.”
“Until we know what’s going on, I prefer not to take chances.”
“We should probably let Violet and Harper know what happened.”
“Already done.” He’d been busy while she’d been telling her story to the police. “They will call you tomorrow.”
“I guess there’s nothing left for me to do, then.” Her statement hung in the air between them. She needed him to stay but couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Huddling deeper into the throw wrapped around her shoulders, she waited for him to leave.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to remain here alone tonight.”
Her stomach flipped. Usually he was no more willing to offer his help than she was likely to ask for it. The change in his attitude made him more dangerous than a hundred ski-mask-wearing intruders.
“I’m