Into the Night (11 page)

She shook her head, and the overhead lights glinted off the sparkly pink headband holding her hair away from her face. “No, I took a cab.”

“Perfect.” This way, if anyone watched them leave together, it would be in his vehicle as a couple, instead of separate cars. “Let’s get out of here.”

Grasping her hand tight in his, he led her back through the gallery and toward the elevator. Before they could slip out undetected, Preston Sloane caught up to them.

“Alex,” he called out, loud enough that Nathan couldn’t ignore the other man.

Nathan brought them to a stop, and as he watched Preston head their way, he slipped his arm around Nicole’s waist and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Follow my lead,” he ordered before facing Sloane again, hoping she’d preserve his cover.

“Are the two of you leaving already?” Sloane sounded disappointed.

“Yes.” Nathan grinned at the older man. “Nikki and I have reservations at The Palm for dinner.”

“A very nice way to impress a girl, Keller,” Sloane said in approval, though his gaze lingered on Nicole with unmistakable interest before returning to Nathan. “Look, I’m having a private party at my nightclub, Bliss, this weekend and I’d like the two of you to come, if you don’t already have plans.” He withdrew a small card from the inside of his blazer and extended it toward Nathan. “Here’s a card with the club info, and it doubles as your invitation. You can’t get in without it.”

Nathan accepted the information, but refused to commit to anything since Nicole had just turned his case upside down. “I’ll see what we can do.”

“I’d love to see you two there.” Even as Sloane said the words, his eyes were all over Nicole, a darker desire glimmering in his gaze as he took her hand in his. “Good night, Nikki, and I hope to see you again sometime soon.”

Nicole gently tugged her hand from Sloane’s and averted her gaze, keeping up the pretense of a shy sixteen-year-old girl. “Good night, Mr. Sloane.”

The other man waved his hand in the air between them. “Call me Preston, please. Mr. Sloane sounds much too formal. And don’t forget about my invitation to show you my art collection.”

A small smile curved the corner of Nicole’s mouth. “I promise I won’t.”

Nathan deliberately gave Nicole a possessive squeeze around her waist. “We’ll talk about it, sweetheart.” Nicole didn’t know it yet, but no way was he going to let her spend any time alone with the other man.

Forcing an amicable expression, Nathan shook Sloane’s hand. “I’ll see you around.”

He guided Nicole into the elevator, his mind spinning in a dozen different directions as the doors closed in front of them and the lift descended to the parking garage.

Sloane’s invitation to his private nightclub was the
in
he’d been waiting weeks for, and Nathan knew the overture came with the expectation of him bringing Nicole. He should have been ecstatic to have finally gained a small measure of Sloane’s trust, but Nicole’s unexpected meddling changed everything. He now had to rethink his strategy.

Still, no matter Nicole’s reasons for tempting the much older man, he was going to make it very clear that she had no business getting involved with someone as dangerous as Preston Sloane.

Chapter Seven

Nicole found herself tucked into the supple, tan leather passenger seat of a gorgeous black Ferrari that Nathan, aka Alex Keller, was currently navigating down the Las Vegas Strip with the expertise of a seasoned race car driver. Other than a terse “get in the car” when the parking attendant had delivered the vehicle, Nathan had been giving her the silent treatment ever since.

More amused than irritated, she cast a sidelong glance at her driver as he shifted gears to pass a car going much too slow for his liking. The Ferrari swerved around the Honda Accord with smooth precision, and outside the tinted windows the colorful lights along Las Vegas Boulevard blurred by as the sports car picked up speed.

The tension inside the Ferrari and between the two of them was palpable. Nathan was pissed, and there was no doubt in Nicole’s mind that she was the cause. Yet despite the negative energy radiating from his side of the vehicle, she wasn’t scared to be alone with him. This dark mood of his was definitely a different side to the man she’d slept with, but his actions thus far had came off as more protective than threatening, which she found very intriguing.

Honestly,
everything
about Nathan captivated her. From his warm brown eyes and the chiseled line of his jaw, to the large, strong hands gripping the steering wheel. Even the reasons behind his own involvement with Sloane piqued her curiosity.

They came to a stop at a red light, and Nathan glanced at her for a brief moment. The heat of anger had faded from his expression, but there was still a hint of uncompromising determination as he gave her a slow, appraising look that felt like a seductive caress over her bare skin. She shivered in response, as if he’d physically touched her.

He returned his attention to the road, and as soon as the light turned green the Ferrari roared to life again. No matter how annoyed he was with her at the moment, there was no denying that he was still attracted to her. And vice versa. Since their one night together she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head. Not just the fantastic sex and multiple orgasms he’d given her so generously, but also how much she’d enjoyed their conversations before things had escalated to a night of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Tired of being ignored, she decided to try to lighten the atmosphere. “Nice car,” she said, more than a little impressed with his extravagant transportation tonight. “I had no idea security paid so well.” Her voice held a teasing note.

“It’s temporary,” he said, keeping his reply short and succinct.

She rolled her eyes, even though the gesture was lost on him. So much for a lively conversation starter. She glanced out her window, watching as they drove past casinos and hotels, and realized she had no idea where he intended to take her.

“Where are we going?” She was more curious than worried.

“Back to my place.”

She’d been to his house, which was in the opposite direction. “Umm, aren’t you going the wrong way?”

“I’m living at Turnberry Towers.”

Her jaw fell open as she stared at his profile, waiting for him to crack a smile or tell her that he was just joking. He looked completely serious. Between the Ferrari and now his claim of living in one of Las Vegas’s most luxurious condominium buildings, she didn’t know what to think.

“Wow,” she said, the one word expressing her surprise. “Did you win the Mega Millions recently?” It was the only explanation that made sense.

He downshifted and made a left-hand turn onto Paradise Road, the street that led to the ritzy high-rise he now called home. “I don’t play the slots. Like I said, it’s temporary.”

And that was that. Trying to extract information from this man was like budging an elephant. Impossible. And frustrating as hell.

“So, what’s your real name?” she asked, figuring it was an easy enough question for him to answer truthfully. “Nathan or Alex?”

“It’s Nathan Fox.” He met her gaze for a moment, his mysterious eyes unreadable in the shadowed interior of the car. “But Preston Sloane knows me as Alex Keller.”

Interesting. “Why the alias?”

He gave his head a quick shake. “You don’t need to know specifics.”

She swallowed an exasperated groan. “It would help to know a
few
details.”

“Yes, it would.” He pinned her with a silent look that told her he expected those details to come from
her
. “We’ll have this discussion when we get to my place.”

She didn’t pressure him for more answers, but rather kept quiet as he let the valet at Turnberry Towers park his car, then ushered her into the elevator and up to the twenty-sixth floor of the high-rise. As soon as she stepped into the fully furnished suite, she gasped, awed by the luxurious contemporary decor and the magnificent view of the Las Vegas Strip right outside the floor-to-ceiling windows framing the impressive living room.

Nicole turned back around to face Nathan as he stripped off his jacket and loosened his tie. “Holy moly,” she breathed, the two words summing up just how blown away she was by his new digs. “Temporary or not, this place is absolutely amazing.”

The corner of his mouth quirked with the barest hint of a smile, giving her a brief glimpse of the fun, charming guy she’d spend the night with a few weeks ago. “I have to agree. The view of the Strip, especially at night, never gets old.” He headed into the gourmet kitchen, separated by a granite-topped breakfast bar and cherrywood stools. “Would you like something to drink?”

She shook her head. “I’m good for now, thanks.” She was far more interested in getting back to their earlier discussion, and didn’t hesitate to do so now. “I thought you worked security at The Onyx. Was that a lie, or are you also working privately for Sloane, or someone else?”

He strolled back into the living room to where she was standing, his fingers wrapped around the neck of what looked like a bottle of root beer. “Nosy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Persistent, too,” she added with a sassy grin, making sure he knew she could be just as determined as him when it came to extracting information. As a reporter, it was an ingrained skill. “I’m just trying to figure out your connection to Preston Sloane.”

“I’d rather we talk about
your
involvement with Sloane,” he countered easily, then took a long drink of his soda before continuing. “Are you trying to write some kind of exposé on him?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to respond to his question. Not unless she got her own answers in return. “Ever heard of the term
quid pro quo
?”

His dark brows lifted incredulously. “Are you suggesting we strike a deal that you’ll answer my questions if I agree to answer yours?”

“Maybe I am,” she said with a shrug. “We’re obviously at a stalemate, so it seems like the best option. We’re each involved with Sloane for our own personal reasons, so I’ll share if you do.”

Nathan’s first instinct was to flat-out refuse. He didn’t bend to anyone’s demands, especially not a woman’s. But it was quickly becoming apparent to him that he wasn’t dealing with an ordinary female here. Nicole was obstinate, independent, and smart enough to keep him guessing—and he couldn’t deny that those strong personality traits, and the woman herself, stimulated him mentally and presented a challenge he was more than willing to accept.

Considering they’d come to a standoff and he needed her cooperation, he relented. “Quid pro quo,” he agreed, and saluted her with his bottle of root beer in a promise to keep his end of the bargain. “I’m working undercover.”

“So am I,” she said, giving him nothing more than he’d given her.

The laughter glimmering in her eyes told him she was good at playing his kind of game, enjoyed it, even. He decided to change tactics and ask questions that required a more informative answer. “You’re a journalist. Are you looking for a story?”

She hesitated a moment, as if contemplating how much to reveal. “I know there’s one to be found with Sloane.”

He tipped his head curiously. “And you know this how?”

“The man’s a pedophile. He just hasn’t gotten caught yet,” she said, her tone laced with unmistakable disdain. “He’s obviously really good at covering his ass, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that a man like him has important people tucked deeply into his pocket to squash speculations before they turn incriminating.”

She’d done her homework on Sloane and had pegged his MO incredibly well. Gathering any solid evidence to nail the man had proved impossible while Nathan had worked for Metro. Word on the street indicated that he had friends in very high places—from the upper echelon of law enforcement, to powerful political figures, to a well-paid stable of lawyers who did a damn good job of protecting their client from prosecution. Sloane used his wealth to pay off, bribe, and intimidate witnesses and victims, and no one would testify against him.

Money, it seemed, could acquit the guiltiest of men, protected their lewd secrets, and shielded their depraved desires for young, innocent girls.

Nathan washed down the bitterness burning the back of his throat with a drink of his root beer before addressing Nicole again. “And you think you can nail Sloane where others have failed?” he drawled, a hint of sarcasm threading his tone.

Her chin lifted defiantly. “I’d like to try.”

Aggravated by her response and the uncompromising set to her shoulders, he set his empty bottle of root beer on the coffee table and started toward Nicole. She really had no idea what she was up against, and he planned to enlighten her.

He stopped a foot away and stared down at her, still shocked at just how young she looked with her hair pulled back, her fresh-faced complexion and youthful features belying her true age. He wanted to scare her, make her run far and fast from a situation that could get her killed—and heap more unwanted guilt on his conscience.

“You’re stepping into very dangerous territory,” he said in a low, harsh tone. “Sloane eats little girls like you for breakfast. He’s a ruthless man, and if he so much as
suspects
you’re playing him, you’re good as dead. And that’s not going to boost your career, now, is it?”