At Odds with the Heiress. Cat Schield

around her sister’s office. The room was a little over the top for her taste. It was almost as if Harper had been feeling insecure when she’d brought in the expensive furnishings and accessories. Which was ridiculous. If anyone could build and run the most successful Fontaine hotel in Las Vegas and become the next CEO, it was Henry Fontaine’s only legitimate granddaughter.

      “Of course, if you want someone to tell her how hard it is to make it as an actress in Hollywood, I’m your girl.” Scarlett tossed her napkin onto the table. “When did you wish her reprogramming to begin?”

      Logan scowled at her. It was one of several unhappy expressions he wore whenever they occupied the same space. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’ll wait until Harper or Violet is free.”

      “I think you’re a little too desperate for that.” Drawing upon a fifteen-year acting career, Scarlett slapped on a winning smile and stood. “I may not be your first choice for this project, but I’m what you’re going to get.”

      “Fine.”

      Logan got to his feet and towered over her. “I’ll drop Madison off this afternoon at your office. Say, around one?”

      “I’ll be waiting.” She moved away, eager to escape his overwhelming presence, but hadn’t taken more than four steps before his hand caught her wrist.

      “Thank you.” Logan’s fingers were gentle on her skin.

      He’d never touched her before. The contact sizzled through her like lightning. Unnerved by the strength of her reaction, she twisted free with more vigor than necessary. “It’s too late for you to start being nice to me, Logan.”

      His deep brown eyes developed a layer of ice. “Fine.”

      He scanned her from her messy updo to her hot-pink toenails, missing nothing in between. Her heart thumped like a runner’s feet against the pavement and tension knotted her shoulders. Every time she got within fifty feet of the guy, she turned into an excited teenager with an enormous crush.

      And he seemed completely immune.

      At six feet two inches tall, the muscled hunk had a commanding presence. He wore his wavy black hair long enough to graze his collar. Bold eyebrows, a strong nose and a square jaw didn’t make him classically handsome, but they combined to produce a face worth staring at. His chiseled lips lingered in her daydreams even though when she was around they were always set in a grim line.

      “Can you at least wear something business-y?” he demanded, a muscle jumping in his cheek. “Madison needs to spend time with a professional career woman.”

      Holding perfectly still beneath his criticism was challenging as a combination of sizzling heat and disquieting tingles attacked her composure. In a flowing ankle-length dress cut low in front, and strappy gold sandals, Scarlett knew she looked more like a guest of her Las Vegas hotel than the manager.

      “I don’t do business-y.” She turned on her four-inch heels and strode out of the office, fleeing from feelings of inadequacy.

      With his long legs, Logan had little trouble keeping up. “Surely you have something in your vast wardrobe that looks professional.”

      “What makes you think I have a vast wardrobe?”

      “In five years I’ve never seen you wear the same thing twice.”

      Stunned that he’d noticed what she wore, much less remembered, Scarlett spared him the briefest glance. “I’m flattered that you’ve been paying attention,” she remarked, using her most flirtatious manner to hide her decidedly smitten response to his observation.

      “Don’t be. Part of my job as a security expert is to pay attention to details.”

      “Well, aren’t you a silver-tongued devil,” she quipped, stepping into the elevator that would take her to the second floor and the skyways that linked the sisters’ three Fontaine hotels.

      Logan’s sleeve brushed her bare arm as he reached past her to punch the button for the lobby. As the doors closed, he lingered in her space, awakening her senses to the coiled strength lurking in his muscles.

      Before she considered the imprudence of her action, she poked her finger into his firm abs. “You sure know what to say to make a girl feel special.”

      She expected him to back off. He’d always kept his distance before. To her shock, he shifted closer. Such proximity to his straightforward masculinity had a disturbing effect on her equilibrium. She had to fight to keep from leaning against him for support.

      “Don’t you ever get tired of acting?” he mused, his casual tone not matching the dangerous tension emanating from him.

      Gathering a shaky breath, she forced the corners of her mouth upward. “What do you mean, acting?”

      “The various women you become to fool men into accepting whatever fantasy you want them to believe.”

      Was he referring to the facade she used to keep Logan in the dark about the way he stirred her body and soul? He was completely mad if he believed she was going to give up her one defense against him.

      “Don’t you mean the one I use to manipulate them to my will?” she taunted, her breathless tone coming easily under the influence of Logan’s domineering presence.

      Scarlett prided herself on being able to read men. Usually it was pretty easy. Most of them enjoyed being powerful and having beautiful women available for their pleasure. Even the ones who appeared as sweet as lambs harbored a little caveman inside them.

      Logan didn’t fall neatly into the bucket where she lumped the rest of his gender. He seemed genuinely immune to her wiles and that’s why she provoked him at every opportunity. She was challenged by his lack of physical attraction to her. And in a twisted way, because she knew he’d never step across the line, his indifference gave her the freedom to let her sensuality run free. It was quite liberating.

      “One of these days someone is going to see past your flirtation to the truth,” Logan warned, his voice a husky growl.

      She arched her eyebrows. “Which is what?”

      “That what you need isn’t some tame lapdog.”

      “I don’t?”

      “No.” Espresso eyes watched her with lazy confidence. “What you need is a man who will barge right past your defenses and drive you wild.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous,” she retorted, struggling to keep her eyes off his well-shaped lips and her mind from drifting into the daydream of being kissed silly by the imposing Logan Wolfe.

      “You can lie to yourself all you want,” he said. “But don’t bother lying to me.”

      It wasn’t until he captured her fingers that she realized she’d flattened her palm against his rib cage. She tugged to free her hand, but he tightened his grip.

      The sexual tension he roused in her went from simmer to roiling boil. “Let me go.”

      “You started it.”

      She wasn’t completely sure that was true. “What’s gotten into you today?”

      His lips kicked up at the corners. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you lose your cool. I like it.”

      How had he turned the tables on her in such a short time? She pressed her thighs together, but this action made the ache worse, not better.

      What you need is a man who will barge right past your defenses and drive you wild. Thank goodness he’d never find out just how much she liked the sound of that.

      “I’m really not interested in what you—”

      She never had a chance to finish the thought. Before she guessed his intention, Logan lowered his lips to hers and cut off her denial. Slow and deliberate, his hot mouth moved across hers. Her startled murmur of surprise became a weak