At Odds With the Heiress (5 page)

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 keep Grady busy for decades.”

Grady Daniels was the man Scarlett had hired to help create the Mob Experience exhibit. He lived and breathed the history of Las Vegas. His doctoral thesis had been on the Chicago mobs, but during his research, he’d learned quite a bit about Las Vegas because of the natural migration of mobsters in the forties and fifties.

“Lucas was right,” he muttered, either not hearing her or ignoring her enthusiasm. “Tiberius was the J. Edgar Hoover of Vegas.”

“You told your brother about the files?”

Logan shook his head. “He told me. We’ve suspected what Tiberius has been up to for a while.” From his guarded expression, there was more he wasn’t sharing with her.

Scarlett decided a subtle push was called for. “Finding anything is going to be impossible unless we have some idea what we’re looking for. Or a notion of who might have something to hide.”

“And we’re not going to find anything tonight.”

“Give me half an hour to indulge my curiosity, then I’ll let you take me back to my suite and have your way with me.”

His unfathomable stare told her he wouldn’t dignify her flirtation by responding. So with a sigh, Scarlett continued to work her way around the storage unit. She wasn’t surprised to find a whole lot of information on the mob, but resisted the urge to take any of the files with her. Some of Tiberius’s notes read like pages from an old-time detective novel. The stories were fascinating. Scarlett could easily have spent days in here poring over the metal cabinets, but Logan was showing signs of impatience.

At last she found the file drawer she was looking for. Sure enough, there was a thick file on her father. His antics were well-known around town. Her grandfather’s file was not as full as his son’s, but it still contained a lot of newspaper articles as well as a history of the company and background on Henry. It took her less than a minute to unearth two other files. One for her mother. One for Violet’s. To her surprise, Tiberius had a file on Harper’s mother, as well. What could he possibly find of interest about a New York City socialite?

Scarlett shut the final cabinet door and carried her booty to an unmarked Bankers Box near the front of the unit. She thought it was empty until she lifted off the top, but it was a third full of files. From the look of them, these files must have been some of the last Tiberius was working on. She dropped the files on her family into the box and picked it up.

Logan stood outside, radiating impatience as she emerged. “What are those?”

“Files on my family.”

“Are you sure taking those is a good idea?”

“Have you met Harper’s and Violet’s mothers? I’m sure there’s nothing scandalous in their pasts besides our father. As for my mother...” She handed him the box and dug out a photo to show Logan. It was a full-color eight-by-ten photo. “Wasn’t she gorgeous?”

“You inherited her legs.”

Her pulse stuttered. “You’ve noticed my legs?”

“It’s hard not to.”

Unsure whether he meant the comment as praise or mere observation, Scarlett headed toward his SUV without replying. Logan was an enigma. Most of the time he acted as if every second in her company taxed his patience, then suddenly he’d behave as if he was actually worried about her. To further confuse her, he had developed a distracting fondness for kissing her whenever the mood struck him.

He didn’t like her. He certainly didn’t respect her as a businesswoman. On the other hand, she wasn’t his responsibility, so he didn’t have to worry about her safety as much as he did. And his kisses...his amazing, confusing, contrary kisses. They certainly weren’t the sort a man planted on a woman he was trying to seduce. What was his angle?

Scarlett studied him as he drove back to the hotel. He wasn’t classically handsome. More the rough-and-rugged type. Brawny. Take-charge. The guy everyone else in the room deferred to because he had all the answers.

Nor was he a good choice for a woman who only felt safe with men she could wrap around her finger. Was she attracted to the danger he represented? He would break her heart in a millisecond if she gave him the chance. Damn it. It would be so easy if only she didn’t like him so much.

Logan glanced her way and caught her staring at him. “What?”

“I was just thinking what a heartbreaker you are.”

He snorted. “I think you have us confused.”

“I flirt, but I never commit. No one’s heart actually gets engaged. You are completely sincere. You could make a woman fall in love with you without even trying.” She angled her body toward him. “Why haven’t you gotten married?”

“If this is another one of your games...”

“No game. I’m insatiably curious. I think that’s why Tiberius left his files to me.” “Knowledge is power,” he’d been fond of saying. “Did the right girl never come along?”

“I was engaged once.”

Rather than prompt him to continue, she let silence hang between them.

Logan scowled. “She broke it off.”

Scarlett shifted her gaze away from his stony expression, wishing she’d left well enough alone. No wonder he was such a hard man to get to know. He’d been hurt by the person who should have loved him best. That wasn’t something Logan would let go of easily. Scarlett pitied the women who tried to get close to him. They would find his defenses as impenetrable as the security systems his company was famous for.

“I’m sorry.”

“It was ten years ago.” He said it as though the pain was a distant memory, but she suspected his wound wasn’t all that well healed.

“That doesn’t mean it stops hurting.”

He greeted her attempt at sympathy with cold silence. At the hotel, per her request he stopped the SUV outside the employee entrance. When he tried to hand the key to her, she shook her head. “Find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

“Why do you think I’m after something?”

“You don’t really expect me to believe you came along tonight because you enjoy my company.” Managing a lighthearted smile despite the heaviness in her chest, Scarlett exited the vehicle and lifted the box containing her family’s files from the backseat.

“Scarlett...”

“Keep in touch, Logan.”

Then, before she could make the mistake of asking him up to her suite, she shut the car door and headed toward the hotel’s employee entrance.

Five

A
week went by before Logan admitted defeat regarding Tiberius’s files. Scarlett had been right. Someone could spend decades going through the fragments of data. The hotel and casino owner had accumulated thousands of interesting tidbits throughout the years, some of it newspaper articles, some rumors, many firsthand accounts of events that had never become public knowledge.

The problem was, there was so much information, most of it random, that connecting the dots would take forever. Logan had neither the time nor the patience to locate the needle in the haystack. If he’d had some idea what he was looking for, he might have been able to ferret out Tiberius’s killer. But although the files held a lot of smoking guns, many of the people who’d once held them were long dead.

Nor were the cops interested in looking through the files. They were looking at the wife of a local businessman. Apparently the woman had been having an affair and after finding a file on her at his office, the police had a theory that Tiberius was blackmailing her. Logan didn’t believe it. Tiberius collected information on people, but he didn’t appear to use it. If he had, the casino owner wouldn’t have been nearly bankrupt when he died.

Despite having no luck, giving up the hunt was the last thing he wanted to do, but Scarlett was eager to have her historian comb through the files in search of material they could use in her Mob Experience exhibit, which was due to open in a few weeks. He could have given the key to one of his guys to return. In fact, that would have made a lot more sense. He was hip-deep in the data Lucas had sent to him from Dubai. They needed to have a proposal done in the next couple days and he’d lost a lot of time in his search through the storage unit.

Instead of leaving the key with Scarlett’s assistant, a stunning blonde woman with an MBA from Harvard, he tracked Scarlett herself down on the casino floor. He found her chatting with one of the pit bosses. With her hair cascading down the back of her sleeveless bronze sheath, she looked every inch a successful hotel executive. His chest tightened as he watched her smile. Seven days away from her should have diminished his troublesome attraction. Instead, he’d found his thoughts filled with her at the most inopportune times.

Desiring her had been his Achilles’ heel for some time now, but he’d been able to keep his head in the game by remembering that she was first and foremost an actress and a woman who enjoyed manipulating men. Until last week, however, he’d never spent an extended time alone with her. He’d been working off assumptions he’d made from their infrequent encounters.

He now knew she was more than the manipulative man-eater he’d first dubbed her as. Not that this made her any less dangerous. Quite the contrary. His fascination with her had ratcheted up significantly. And not all of it was sexual. He’d enjoyed her company at dinner. She was provocative and took great pleasure in testing his boundaries, but she was also very well-read and had surprised him with her knowledge of Las Vegas past and present.

She was more clever and insightful than he’d thus far given her credit for. She knew her limitations and had a knack for hiring people who were experts in their field. It’s why her hotel was so well run, he’d decided after eight days of listening to Madison go on and on about how smart Scarlett was. For the first couple of days his niece’s hero worship had worried him. But Madison hadn’t mentioned L.A. once in the past several days, and he was happy to let her praise Scarlett’s virtues if it meant his niece was going to give college a try.

“Hello, Logan.” Scarlett had finished her business with the pit boss and caught sight of him. “Are you looking for Madison?”

“No.” He held his ground against the onslaught of sensation that battered him as she drew close enough for him to smell her perfume and see the gold shards sparking in her green eyes. “I came to return this.” He handed her an envelope containing the storage key.

“You’re done with it, then?” She slid the envelope into the black leather folder that contained her daily notes. “Did you find what you needed?”

“I looked through our client’s files and removed anything of interest.” He paused before saying more. Lucas would be angry with him for spilling even that much. “I also found a number of secrets that should never see the light of day.”

“Then they won’t.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“Some of those files have been hidden for over fifty years,” she reminded him. “What makes you think they can’t stay that way for another fifty?”

“Because Tiberius was killed for something he knew.”

“That hasn’t yet been determined. Besides, no one but you and I know I have the files.”

“You forget about John Malcolm.”

“Attorney-client privilege. He’s not going to say anything.”

“I’d feel better if the files were destroyed.”

“I can’t do that. Grady can’t wait to get started on them.”

Logan could hear the determination in her tone and knew he was wasting his breath. He could only hope he and Lucas were wrong about the connection between the files and Tiberius’s death. Yet Logan couldn’t shake the sense that something bad was going to happen.

“Do you have time for a cup of tea?” Her offer came at him out of the blue. “I got some of that green stuff you and Violet drink.”

He opened his mouth to refuse, thinking she was flirting with him as always, but then saw her expression was serious. “Sure.”

“Can I invite you up to my suite without you getting the wrong impression?”

“Unlikely.”

“What a naughty mind you have.” Amusement flared in her eyes and was gone just as fast. “I really could use your advice.” She looped her arm through his and turned him in the direction of the elevators.

A week ago he might have assumed she had a nefarious purpose for luring him upstairs. That was before Tiberius’s files had come to light. And Scarlett was radiating an apprehensive vibe, not a seductive one.

“My advice on what?”

“I discovered something in the files I took from the storage unit, and I’m not sure how to handle it.”

Logan felt his anxiety kick in. Had she possessed the answer to Tiberius’s murder all along?

“Which ones?”

She frowned. “The ones on my family.”

So her concern was for Violet or Harper. His agitation diminished slightly.

“I took my father’s file because I was curious about a man my mother rarely talked about,” she continued. “It was a pretty thick file and took me three days to get through it all. He had affairs with a lot of women. I don’t know how Harper’s mother stood it.”

“The way I understand it, she split all her time between New York City, the Hamptons and their winter place in Boca Raton. I don’t know how often she came to Las Vegas.”

“That’s what I gathered from her file.” Scarlett paused as they neared the elevator. Other people were waiting within earshot and she obviously didn’t want them to overhear her, so she changed the subject. “How was your week? Successful?”

He knew she was referring to his search of the storage unit and shook his head. “Not at all. Your friend is going to have his work cut out for him. There’s a lot of history.”

“He’ll be delighted.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call this week.” The apology came out before he knew what he was saying. “It was a hectic few days.”

Surprise fogged her expression for a moment. “It’s okay. I had a lot on my plate, as well.”

“Lucas and I are developing a security system for a sheikh in Dubai. He has an extensive art collection that he wants to display and the logistics are proving quite complex.”

She watched him with lively interest as he spoke. “Sounds fascinating,” she murmured.

When the couple riding in the elevator with them got off on the twelfth floor, the snug space seemed to shrink.

“I don’t know about that, but it is challenging.” It wasn’t like him to fill the silence with chitchat, but her open and sincere manner made him long to draw her into his arms and capture her lips with his. This frequent and increasing urge to kiss her was becoming troublesome. To his relief, the elevator door slid open on fifteen before he could act.

“I’d love to learn more about what it is Wolfe Security does besides casino security.” And to her credit, she seemed to mean it.

“Perhaps another time.” And there would be another time, he realized. She’d found a way beneath his skin and he feared it was only a matter of time before she took up permanent residence there and started redecorating. “Right now, I’d like to hear about what you found in Ross’s file.”

She waved her leather portfolio near her door’s lock. All the rooms in Fontaine Richesse used proximity cards to open rather than ones with magnetic strips. The radio frequency in the cards was a harder technology to copy. Logan had been suggesting it for use in Fontaine hotels for three years as a more effective security measure, but none of the executives wanted to upgrade. Until Scarlett came along and decided it was the system she wanted in Fontaine Richesse. Now, all of the new Fontaine hotels had this system and as the older hotels were being remodeled, proximity card systems were being added.

Before she entered her suite, she gripped his arm. “Logan, I’m really afraid of what this is going to do to my family.”

He stared at her, a bad feeling churning in his gut. This wasn’t Scarlett being dramatic or overreacting. Genuine fear clouded her expression and thickened her voice. What could possibly have upset her to this extent?

“Tell me.”

She entered her suite and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get the water started. The files are on the table.” Scarlett indicated a stack of neatly arranged folders on the coffee table. “I noticed something odd about my father’s business travel.”

Logan sat on the pale green couch, noting its decadent softness, and leaned forward to view the contents of the open file. Tiberius had jotted some notes about Fontaine Hotels and Resorts’s trouble with their Macao casinos. Ross had gone to investigate.

“What am I looking at?”

“See when he left? July 1980. He was gone for four months.”

Logan shook his head, not understanding what Scarlett was getting at. “What’s the significance of that?”

“Harper was born in June 1981.” She raised her voice over the scream of the teakettle. “Now look at Penelope’s file.”

Penelope was Harper’s mother. The only daughter of billionaire Merle Sutton, whose fortune revolved around chemicals and refining, her marriage to Ross Fontaine had brought an influx of cash to Fontaine Hotels and Resorts at a time when, unbeknownst to his father, Ross had bought some land without the proper environmental surveys. Ultimately, they’d been unable to develop the property and lost several million on the project.

Logan opened the file and scanned a private investigator’s report on Harper’s mother. Below it were several black-and-white photos that left little to the imagination.

“She had an affair.” He stared at the pictures and felt a stab of sympathy for the woman who’d been part of her father’s business arrangement with Ross Fontaine. “Given the man she was married to, I can’t say I blame her.”

“At first I thought Ross had ordered the investigation.” Scarlett carried two steaming cups over to the couch and set them down on the coffee table before sitting beside him. “I thought it was a little hypocritical of him to have Harper’s mom investigated when he went after anything in a skirt. But it wasn’t him.”

“You sure?” Logan glanced sideways in time to see her lips close over the edge of the cup. “How’s the tea?”

The face she made at him caused her nose to wrinkle in a charming manner. “It tastes like dead grass.” But she gamely tried a second sip. “I checked on the private investigator.” Scarlett pointed to the man’s name on the report. “He’s been dead for ten years, but his partner didn’t find Ross’s name in their list of former clients.”

“Was it Tiberius?”

Scarlett shook her head. “Of course, Ross could have been considering divorce and gone to a lawyer who contacted a PI to get evidence of Penelope’s infidelity. But once he got proof, why not start divorce proceedings? Then there’s this.” Scarlett opened a second file and showed Logan a document. “Harper’s parents were not in the same hemisphere when she was conceived.”

“She might have been conceived during a brief visit either in Macao or here in the States.”

“I agree, but coupled with the fact that Harper’s mother was having an affair during that time, it seems much more likely that this guy—” she tapped the photo “—is Harper’s father.”

* * *

Scarlett scrutinized Logan’s impassive expression while she waited for him to process her conclusion. When she’d found the damning evidence last night, she’d longed to pick up the phone and share the burden with him, but it had been three in the morning and she hadn’t wanted to wake him up.

Loneliness had never been an issue for her. In L.A. when she wasn’t busy with friends, she’d enjoyed spending time alone. It was one of the benefits of growing up an only child. But lately she’d been dreading her own company. Sharing the secret of Tiberius’s files with Logan had turned their animosity into camaraderie and their temporary break in hostility was something she wanted to make permanent.

“Which brings me back to why I invited you up here,” she said, breaking the silence when it began nibbling on her nerves. “What should I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

She decided not to answer his question directly. “If I do nothing, Harper will become the next CEO of Fontaine Hotels and Resorts.”

Logan sat back and stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. The move put his fingers very close to her bare upper arm and made her skin tingle.

“After your father died and before your grandfather came up with his contest to run the company, she was the obvious choice.”

Scarlett pondered his words. “She has the education and the training to be Grandfather’s successor. But Violet has the marketing savvy and the experience of running a Las Vegas hotel to give Harper a run for her money.”

“If you share what you know, Harper would likely be kicked out of the running and the contest would be down to you and Violet.”