Las Vegas Nights. Cat Schield

is horrified.”

      Violet frowned. “There are far worse professions.”

      “Not if you listen to Logan,” Scarlett muttered. “He’s convinced I’m going to corrupt Madison with my evil ways.”

      “Stop exaggerating.” Harper was always the voice of order and reason. “You rub Logan the wrong way because it amuses you.”

      Scarlett couldn’t deny it so she shrugged. “I’d rather rub him the right way, but he made it plain from the start that I wasn’t his type.”

      “Is that why he stares at you so much?” Violet regarded her over the rim of her glass. “Because you’re not his type?”

      Harper patted Scarlett’s hand. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re every man’s type.”

      “Not every man.” But few were immune. Until today she’d believed Logan was one of those. Correction—until tonight. The kiss earlier that day had been about proving a point. Tonight’s kiss had been...intimate. As if the only thing on his mind was connecting with her. Scarlett shook her head and put a stop to such fancy. Turning to Violet, she said, “Something weird happened today. John Malcolm stopped by with an envelope for me from Tiberius.”

      “Tiberius’s lawyer?” Harper sounded perplexed. “What was in it?”

      “A key to a storage unit.” Scarlet eyed her younger sister. “Did you know that Tiberius kept files on a whole bunch of people?”

      Violet shook her head. “What sort of files?”

      “From what Logan told me, they’re filled with a whole lot of secrets.” Scarlett was still having a hard time taking the whole thing seriously.

      “Interesting.” Harper leaned forward to look at Violet. “He never mentioned this to you?”

      “Not once.”

      “How do you know all about this?” Harper asked.

      “Because Tiberius left me his files.” Scarlett nodded when she saw her sisters’ surprise and confusion. “Crazy, right? At least that’s what Logan thinks is waiting in the storage unit. We’re going to go and check it out tomorrow night.”

      Violet grinned. “You and Logan?”

      “Apparently he thinks the files are too dangerous for me to have.” Scarlett ignored her younger sister’s smug look. “The files are all he’s interested in.”

      “I’m sure.” But Violet didn’t look the least bit convinced.

      “Is it weird that he gave them to you?” Harper asked.

      “Maybe.” Scarlett rolled her empty glass between her palms. She’d consumed the two drinks too fast. Her head felt light. Her blood hummed through her veins. “Tiberius and I talked a lot about Vegas history. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be opening the Mob Experience exhibit next month. He gave me the idea, encouraged me to pursue it and most of the items on display were either things he’d collected or were donated by people he knew.”

      “He loved that you listened to his stories,” Violet said. “I was more interested in the future than the past.”

      “I was fascinated.” Scarlett’s throat closed up. “He brought Las Vegas to life for me.”

      Seeing Violet struggling with her sadness, Scarlett wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulder. Five years earlier, when she’d found out she had two half sisters living in Las Vegas, Scarlett had worried they would be angry that she’d been included in Henry’s contest to decide who the future CEO of Fontaine Resorts would be. After all, what did she know about running a hotel or a multibillion-dollar corporation? But to her delight, they were as excited about having her in Las Vegas as she was to be there.

      “How did it go with your mom today?” Scarlett asked.

      “About as you’d expect.” Violet offered a wan smile. “She’s taking it hard.”

      Tiberius might not have been Suzanne Allen’s first love, but he was her longest and best. Even though she’d never married the hotel owner, she’d lived with him for twenty years.

      “Was she any help with the funeral arrangements?” Harper quizzed, dropping her hand over Violet’s and giving a sympathetic squeeze.

      “You know my mother. She can’t make decisions on the best days.” Violet gave a wry smile.

      “Do you have a date for the funeral?” Scarlett asked.

      “Not yet.”

      Harper frowned. “That’s strange.”

      “Not so strange,” Violet said. She heaved a giant sigh. “There’s something I haven’t told you. There’s something suspicious about Tiberius’s death.”

      “Suspicious?” Scarlett echoed, goose bumps popping out on her arms as if someone had touched the back of her neck with an ice cube. Logan’s earlier concerns no longer seemed amusing.

      Harper looked as worried as Scarlett felt. “I thought he had a heart attack?”

      “He did, but they’re waiting for some toxicology results to come back from the lab. The investigating officer told Mom they think Tiberius’s death might have been from an overdose of digitalis.”

       Four

      An overdose of digitalis.

      The words hung in Scarlett’s mind as she dressed for her “date” with Logan. It had to be accidental. Anything else was preposterous. Who would want to kill an old man? Someone who had something to hide? She shook off the thought. Logan had put crazy ideas in her head. But she couldn’t shake her nerves. And she had lots more than the ticking time bomb Tiberius had left her to worry about. She was about to embark on an entire evening alone with Logan.

      Scarlett nearly jumped out of her skin when the knock sounded on her door. She set her lipstick aside and took a breath to settle her racing pulse. Would tonight be all business or would he subject her to another one of those mind-blowing embraces?

      There were ways to protect herself from men who wanted to harm her. And where her heart was concerned, Logan had already proven himself a dangerous adversary.

      Standing before the door to the hall, she smoothed her palms along her hips. Never had she spent so many hours trying to figure out what a man wanted her to be. In the end, she’d dressed in a pair of skinny black pants and a black blouse with a cap sleeve that bared her arms. With her hair slicked back into a severe bun and tiny pearl earrings as her only jewelry, she was as close to looking professional as she could manage.

      Then, because she’d never been good at doing what was expected of her, Scarlett added a pair of heavy black-framed glasses. Now she looked like someone’s sexy secretary. Wrestling her features into a bland expression, she opened the door.

      Logan’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of her. “What’s with the getup?”

      She slid the glasses down her nose and peered at him over them. “Don’t you think I look professional?”

      “You look...fine.”

      “Fine? I spent all afternoon searching my closet for something to wear so you wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with me.” She couldn’t resist the taunt.

      “I thought you understood I’m not interested in your playacting.”

      Scarlett gave him a genuine smile. “Do you really want me to stop?”

      “Why wouldn’t I?” He gave her a suspicious once-over.

      “What happens if you start to like the real me? Where will you be then?” It was a bold sortie, but something about the lick of heat in his eyes told