Las Vegas Nights. Cat Schield

Las Vegas Nights - Cat Schield


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scraped back in a low ponytail and simple gold jewelry at her ears and throat, she looked every inch the successful executive. And nothing at all like the passionate temptress who’d unraveled his control.

      “Logan.” Her smile drew him across the room to her. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

      Instead of circling the desk and snatching her into his arms, he sat down in her guest chair and dropped the script onto the uncluttered surface between them. Her fingers slid off the keyboard and onto her lap.

      She frowned. “Where’d you get that?”

      “Madison had it.”

      “Madison?” Acting as if it was of little importance, Scarlett picked up the pages and dropped them into the trash. “She must have come by while I was meeting with Violet.”

      “Why do you have a script, Scarlett?”

      She got up from her desk and circled around to lean against the front. “A producer friend of mine sent it to me.”

      “Let me guess, you know a teenager who would be perfect for his new TV show.”

      “What?” Her eyes went wide as his accusation sunk in. “No. Of course not. Is that what you think?”

      “What else should I think?”

      “That maybe I was offered a part. A good part. Something I would be perfect for.” Her tone was insistent, defensive.

      “I thought you were done with Hollywood.”

      She hesitated slightly before saying, “I am.” But it was a telling pause.

      What happened to all her protestations about how difficult her life as an actor had been? Was all of that merely a defense mechanism to keep disappointment at bay? When the opportunity came along to resume her acting career, would she jump at it?

      “Of course I am,” she insisted, her voice gaining conviction. “I have a life here in Las Vegas.”

      “But if this opportunity had come along five years ago and you had to choose, which life would you have picked?”

      “That’s not a fair question.”

      Her protest told him her answer was not to his liking. “You’d have chosen to stay in L.A.”

      “Probably. But only because acting was all I knew. Moving to Las Vegas and taking over the running of this hotel wasn’t an easy decision for me to make. I had no experience. Frankly, I was terrified of making a mistake.”

      “Everyone makes mistakes.”

      “Yes, but do everyone’s mistakes mean millions of dollars are at risk?” With a deep breath she clamped down on her escalating aggravation until her composure returned. “All this speculation is a waste of time. What I might have chosen to do five years ago has no bearing on what I do today.”

      Relief washed over him. She wasn’t going to leave Las Vegas. Leave him. “I guess I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

      She widened her eyes dramatically. “Was that an apology?”

      “No.” He pulled her onto his lap. “This is.”

      His kiss let her feel all his frustration and longing. The emotions she aroused troubled him. How could he mistrust her and still want her this much? Saying it was simple lust didn’t ring true. She’d become his last thought at night and his first one in the morning. He was mesmerized by her beauty and intrigued by the layers she kept hidden.

      “Feel like ordering room service in my suite?” she asked him once he’d let her come up for air.

      “Maybe later. I want to check out the files in the storage unit.”

      “They’re not there.”

      “Where are they?”

      “I had them moved to a secure records storage unit this morning.”

      “I wish you’d told me that’s what you were doing.”

      “Why? They’re perfectly safe. Grady was eager to get to work and I feel better with them someplace secure.”

      “I’m not convinced keeping the files is a good idea.”

      “I can’t part with them until someone I trust goes through everything. Plus, their historic value can’t be measured until we know what’s there.”

      “Wasn’t last night proof of how dangerous they could be for you? Tiberius lived awfully well for a man whose casino was barely staying out of the red.”

      “What are you saying?”

      “If it was a plot for a TV series, what would you deduce?”

      “That Tiberius was blackmailing people?”

      “That may have been what got him killed.”

      “Even if I had a clue what to look for, I’m not planning on blackmailing anyone.”

      “Maybe not—”

      “Maybe not?” She interrupted in mock outrage. “Definitely not.”

      “Very well, then. Definitely not. But just because you and I know that doesn’t mean Tiberius’s victims know that.”

      Nonplussed, she stared at him for several seconds. “Then I guess the smartest thing for me to do is get with a lawyer and make certain that if anything happens to me, the files go public.”

      Her calm determination impressed the hell out of him. This was no scared female in need of rescue. She was a woman who survived by her wits as well as her beauty.

      Logan tightened his hold around her waist. “Then I guess until you meet with an attorney, I should plan on sticking with you.”

      “Twenty-four/seven?”

      “Whatever it takes.”

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