Las Vegas Nights: At Odds with the Heiress. Cat Schield

pleasure had come from her sullen dinner companion.

      Logan had been in a foul mood ever since she’d confessed that she found his honesty refreshing. Why that bothered him, she had no idea. Shouldn’t she be the wounded party? He was the one who’d declared he’d never trust her and called her irritating.

      “If you wanted dessert,” he growled, “you should have ordered your own.”

      “I just wanted a bite.”

      “You ate almost all of it.” And she knew he’d enjoyed watching her devour the rich treat.

      In fact, she wondered if he’d ordered it for just such a reason. From their dinner conversation, she’d learned that he wasn’t usually one to indulge his sweet tooth. No dairy. Steamed vegetables. Lean meats. Whole grains. His body was both a fortress and a temple.

      “Shall we order another one? This time I won’t steal a bite. I promise.”

      “It’s getting late. We need to get to the storage unit.” He signaled for the check.

      Scarlett was torn. On one hand, she’d love to linger over a cup of coffee and enjoy the thrust and parry of their banter a little longer. On the other, she was tired of having the barrier of the table between them.

      Unfortunately, now that dinner was through, the glint faded from Logan’s eye and his features hardened into a professional mask. Sighing in resignation, she let him guide her out of the restaurant and into his SUV. With his focus so far away from her, Scarlett knew the only way to reengage with him was to discuss the purpose behind their dinner tonight. “What sort of secrets to you suppose Tiberius had locked up?” she asked, hoping to jostle him out of his thoughts.

      “Dangerous ones.”

      His dark tone gave her the shivers. She studied him as the lights of the Strip faded behind them and they entered an area of town where tourists never ventured. Another man might have played up the seriousness of their outing for effect. That wasn’t Logan’s style. He was genuinely troubled and Scarlett was less confident with each mile they drove.

      “What do you think I should do?”

      “Shred the whole mess.”

      Honestly, did the man not watch TV? “That’s not going to help. The killer will assume that I made copies of everything. Or at the very least that I went through all the files and know what Tiberius knew.” Whatever that was.

      Logan grunted but didn’t comment.

      By the time they arrived at the storage facility, Scarlett had run the murdered-blackmailer plot from a dozen detective shows through her mind. If Tiberius had been killed because of these files, was she in danger? Her stomach churned, making her regret muscling in on Logan’s dessert.

      He stopped the SUV in front of Tiberius’s storage unit. “Are you okay?” he asked, noting her expression.

      “I’ve played a dead escort and a drowned party girl. I’m not sure I’m ready to play murdered hotel executive.”

      “This isn’t television.”

      “My point exactly.”

      Logan took her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. “No one knows you got the files. You’re going to be fine.”

      “This is Las Vegas.” She drew courage from his strength and let the heat of his skin warm away her sudden chill. “There are no secrets in this town.”

      “There are thousands of secrets buried here.”

      “Did you have to use the word buried?”

      With one last squeeze, he set her free. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

      “That’s a charming promise, but you’re not around 24/7,” she reminded him. A smile flirted with her lips. “Unless that’s your way of telling me you want to step up our relationship.”

      His growl helped restore her sense of humor. She slipped out of the passenger seat and waited in front of the storage unit until Logan joined her. With great ceremony she handed him the key to the lock and stood, barely breathing, while he opened the door and raised it. The musty smell that greeted them was similar to that of a used bookstore.

      Logan stepped to the wall and switched on the light. “Damn.”

      The stark overhead bulb revealed two walls lined with four-drawer file cabinets, stretching back fifteen feet. Bankers Boxes sat atop the file cabinets and were clustered on pallets on the floor.

      Scarlett whistled. “There are eighty-eight drawers of secrets in there, not to mention what’s in the boxes. That’s a lot of dirt.” She glanced Logan’s way and noticed a muscle jumping in his jaw. He hadn’t seemed to hear her, so she nudged him. “Were you expecting this much?”

      “No. This is worse than I imagined.”

      “It’s going to take us a year to get through all of it.”

      Logan turned and blocked her view of the files. “Not us. You need to let me deal with this. It’s too dangerous for you.”

      “Tiberius left this to me.” His dictatorial manner was a double-edged sword. She liked his concern for her welfare, but she’d left L.A. because she was tired of being told what to do. “You wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t shown up just as Tiberius’s lawyer was leaving my office.” She wasn’t trying to make him mad, but he had a knack for bringing out her worst side.

      For a second he looked irritated enough to manhandle her into his SUV and dump her back at the hotel. He still had the key and she doubted her ability to get it back either through manipulation or force. Her best bet was to convince him they needed to work together.

      “Two of us will make the search go faster.” She took a half step forward, expecting him to back up to maintain his personal space. When he didn’t, she splayed her fingers over his rib cage and moved even closer. “Please, can’t we work together?”

      Beneath her hands, his abs tightened perceptibly, but he stood as if frozen. “There’s really no way I can stop you, is there?”

      It wasn’t exactly an enthusiastic confirmation of their partnership, but she’d take whatever she could get from Logan.

      “No, you can’t.” She gave him a smug smile and pushed back, but his hands came up to cup her arms, just above the elbow, keeping her in place.

      “I swear, if anything happens to you because of this...” His mouth settled on hers. Hard. Stealing her gasp and replacing it with the demanding thrust of his tongue. The kiss wasn’t calculated or romantic. It was hot, hungry and frantic. Confusion paralyzed her. By the time she recovered enough to react, he’d slid his lips across her cheek. “I would never forgive myself,” he murmured in her ear.

      He released her so abruptly she wobbled on her four-inch heels. To her immense relief he spun with military precision and marched into the storage unit without a backward glance. The time required to restore her composure was longer than it should have been. But no man had ever kissed her with such hungry desperation. Or rocked her world so fast.

      Smoothing her hands down her hips, Scarlett strode toward the files lining the wall opposite from where Logan was searching. The drawers were unmarked, but when she opened the first one, a quick scan of the folders revealed that they were filled with newspaper clippings, handwritten notes, copies of documents and an assortment of photos. A more thorough review indicated each bit of information came from individuals associated with the long-demolished Sands casino.

      It seemed as if Tiberius had something on every employee going back to when the casino opened. Not all of it was incriminating. Some of the information merely consisted of impressions he’d recorded upon meeting the person. But there were thick folders on several others, including some legendary performers.

      “This is amazing.” She turned with a file in her hand. “Tiberius has enough stuff in these files to