He spun around and shot her a look of annoyance that she’d dare insinuate he was the least bit on edge because of her. “When I’m working on a case, I’m focused, not uptight.”
She almost laughed, but sensed that her finding humor in the situation would only agitate him more. “Well, it comes across the same way, and that scowl creasing your brows isn’t very attractive. You’re going to have to relax and loosen up when we’re together, and try to act like you want me and that there’s plenty of hot chemistry between us. Sloane is expecting to see that.”
He stiffened as if she’d prodded him with a hot brand, and the depths of his eyes sparked with a hunger that was too restrained for her liking. “I don’t need to pretend.”
“Really? You could have fooled me considering you’ve been dodging me like a bullet with your name on it,” she said in a teasing drawl, deliberately tempting him. Setting her bottle of water on the coffee table, she circled Nathan until she was standing behind him and had to resist the urge to press her body flush against his gorgeous, muscular backside. Instead, she stood up on her toes and whispered seductively in his ear, “If you want me, prove it.”
Nicole’s inviting words shot through Nathan like a red-hot dare, an irresistible challenge that quickened his pulse and spurred him into immediate action. He turned around, and quick as a flash he had an arm wrapped around her back and her soft, lush body crushed to his. He splayed his other hand at the back of her head to take control, and she gasped in surprise at his quick, aggressive tactics. The last thing he saw was her sultry smile of satisfaction as he slanted his mouth across hers and gave her exactly what she’d been angling for-irrefutable proof that he still wanted her.
Probably more than was wise.
At the moment, he didn’t give a damn.
Coaxing her mouth open for him didn’t take much effort, and as soon as her lips parted he didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss. Their tongues touched, tangled-the sweet taste of her going straight to his head and hardening him in an instant. Hot and eager, she matched his unrestrained rhythm with her own reckless abandon, the alluring scent of her rising around him, seducing his senses and igniting a pulsing demand for more.
God, he’d been fighting his attraction to Nicole since the moment he’d laid eyes on her earlier that evening, and he was loath to admit that a part of him was still smarting from her hasty departure the night they’d slept together. Now it all coalesced into this one blistering kiss that made him want to brand her, and make her realize exactly what she’d walked away from.
The hand around her waist skimmed lower until he was cupping her bottom in his palm. His fingers kneaded the soft curve of her ass through the thin material of her shorts, wishing he was stroking bare flesh instead. A low, primitive growl rose in his throat, and he instinctively flexed his hips and pushed his erection against her mound, so there was no mistaking just how much she affected him. How much he desired her. Hell, he was burning up with the need to strip her naked and take her right there, on the carpet in front of the windows overlooking the Las Vegas Strip at night. With his cock buried to the hilt inside her slick heat and her screaming his name as she came.
The possessive urge rising within Nathan shocked him, and he struggled to rein himself back before he completely lost control-something this woman made him do way too often, and in so many ways. He ended the kiss with a gentle nip of his teeth on her soft lower lip before pulling back completely.
She moaned in protest.
Wrapping his fingers in the long, silky strands of the hair at the nape of her neck, he gently pulled her head back, exposing the smooth, tender flesh of her throat. Her lashes fluttered open, and she stared up at him, her face flushed and her parted lips damp from his ravenous kiss.
Pure, unadulterated lust slammed through him. All he wanted to do was dive back into another passionate kiss and immerse himself in the mind-numbing pleasure of being inside her again. The same need pounding at him also reflected in her eyes, and he knew without a doubt she’d let him have his way with her, a willing participant every step of the way.
Yet he hesitated, needing an answer to the one question he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since they’d slept together. “Why did you leave in the middle of the night without telling me?”
She placed her hands on his chest and didn’t pretend not to understand the question. “I wanted to avoid an awkward morning-after scene.”
Her reply should have satisfied him; with any other woman he would have appreciated her being so considerate. Not so with Nicole, and he wasn’t ready to analyze why this particular woman had such a profound effect on him. “What makes you think it would have been awkward?”
Her shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, though he swore he saw a flash of regret in her gaze. “We both agreed that neither one of us was looking for a relationship, and I just thought it would be easier if I left before morning.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you thought wrong.”
She looked stunned by his reply, but before she could call him on the wealth of insinuation lingering in his comment, he released her from his embrace and moved away.
Dragging his fingers through his hair, he exhaled a deep, tired sigh. “It’s been a long night and it’s late,” he said, shifting to a more impersonal demeanor-which was exactly where his head should be considering they’d struck a business deal with the Ramsey case, and sex certainly wasn’t a part of their agreement. “We’ve got a lot to cover tomorrow, so get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”
With that, he turned and headed for his bedroom, certain a good night’s sleep would elude him.
* * *
Maybe you thought wrong.
Nicole lay in her bed, unable to sleep after that hot, hungry kiss she’d shared with Nathan and his very revealing comment hinting at the fact that he’d possibly wanted more than just their one night together-given the chance.
His admission had surprised her, and she couldn’t deny there had been many times that she’d wished she hadn’t snuck out on him the night they’d met. That she’d stayed until morning and seen where things had gone from there. Yet it was the deeper emotional possibilities with Nathan that had prompted her to slip out on him under the cover of darkness, and she couldn’t deny that their kiss tonight had rekindled a fire and need deep in her belly.
She shifted restlessly on the cool sheets, her body revved up and the ache between her thighs a result of all the sexual tension that had blazed between her and Nathan. The flames of need had all but consumed her, and she would have been thrilled if things had escalated into a round of steamy, demanding sex. While most guys would have taken full advantage of the situation and her willingness to go the distance, he’d instead put an end to their hot and heavy embrace.
Judging by the hard, thick length of the erection that had been pressing insistently against her mound, there was no mistaking just how much he desired her. The thought made her smile. Clearly, they both still wanted each other, so why not enjoy the benefit of being together for as long as it lasted? She still wasn’t in the market for anything serious, but she was a modern woman who had no qualms about embracing her sexual nature and all the pleasure that came from being with a hot, sexy man like Nathan.
Now she just had to sway Nathan to her way of thinking.
Satisfied with her decision, she finally fell asleep and woke up after nine in the morning feeling rested and ready to start on whatever the day would bring.
She took a shower, dried her hair straight, and applied a minimal amount of makeup to her face. Dressed in a pink top and white capris, she followed the rich smell of coffee beckoning to her and padded out into the living room. She found Nathan standing by the windows carrying on what appeared to be a deep, serious conversation with someone on his cell phone. Giving him a semblance of privacy, she continued quietly to the kitchen to make herself a much-needed cup of caffeine.
As she stirred cream into the dark, steaming liquid
, her ears perked up when she heard him mention her name, and she couldn’t help but eavesdrop. Unfortunately, with only curt yes es and no s coming from his end of the exchange, she wasn’t able to decipher why she was part of the discussion.
A few minutes later he disconnected the call, clipped his cell phone to the waistband of his jeans, and strolled into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she said, greeting him with a smile while trying to gauge his mood.
“Morning.” Seemingly less on edge than when they’d parted ways the previous evening, he headed straight for the pot of coffee and poured himself a cup, keeping it straight-up black. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“Sure.” Her dinner last night had consisted of a few hors d’oeuvres at the art gallery, and she was definitely hungry this morning. “What’s on the menu?”
“How about an omelet?” he suggested.
“Only if you’re making it.” Honestly, she hated to cook and would rather have a bowl of cereal than labor over a stove.
When he glanced her way, she caught a glimpse of humor in his eyes. “Ham and cheese okay?”
“That sounds great.” Glad to see that the strain between them had eased, she leaned a hip against the counter opposite him as he crossed the kitchen toward the stainless-steel refrigerator.
Wrapping her hands around her warm mug, she sipped her coffee and watched as he diced up some ham and began frying it in a pan on the stove. He cracked the eggs with one hand, dumped the contents into a bowl, and whipped the yolks into a creamy, frothy consistency. He looked so relaxed and self-assured, and she had to admit that there was something incredibly sexy about a man who knew his way around a kitchen.
“Sit down,” he said, as he finished making her omelet and topped it off with shredded cheese.
She slid onto one of the bar stools at the granite counter overlooking the kitchen, and he placed a fragrant breakfast in front of her. Taking a bite of the savory egg, ham, and cheese, she gave a small groan of appreciation; it was delicious.
He grinned and turned back to the stove to make his own meal.
“I’m impressed,” she said, meaning it. The omelet was better than any she’d ever had at a restaurant.
“Why?” He cast a quick, amused glance over his shoulder as he poured another round of the beaten eggs into a hot pan. “Because I can cook?”
“Yes, and do it well.” She scooped up another forkful of the omelet. “Most bachelors I know are fast-food junkies.”
He added chunks of fried ham and bits of cheese to the mixture and shrugged. “Actually, I really like to cook.”
Smiling, she took a drink of her coffee. “Does that have anything to do with you growing up with three older sisters?”
His chuckle was deep and warm. “Yeah, I guess it does. My oldest sister especially, who always managed to rope me into helping her in the kitchen while she tried new recipes for the family. She’d put me to work cutting up vegetables or stirring sauces, and taught me what spices and seasonings to use in what dishes. Cooking with her was fun and I enjoyed it.” After flipping the omelet, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “That sister is now a sous chef at a five-star restaurant in San Francisco.”
“Did she make you wear an apron when you cooked?” she teased.
He slid his breakfast onto a plate, grabbed a fork from a nearby drawer, and gave her a mock reproving look. “She might have suggested it, but real men don’t wear aprons.”
She laughed, having fun with their light, playful banter, which reminded her of their flirtatious exchanges the night they’d met-before everything between them had turned so serious. “Of course they don’t.” And she knew for a fact that Nathan was 100 percent male, every lean, hard inch of him.
Finished with her breakfast, she set her utensils on her dish and took another drink of her coffee before turning the conversation to their business arrangement. “I heard my name being dropped while you were on the phone earlier. Who were you talking to?” Considering the bargain they’d struck to work together as a team, she had a right to know.
He didn’t hesitate with his answer, proving to Nicole that he wasn’t trying to hide anything from her. “That was my boss, Caleb Roux.”
“Define boss . Is this your casino boss or your undercover boss?” She still found those two connections very confusing.
“Both.” He remained on the other side of the counter separating them as he finished his omelet, his gaze suddenly too guarded for her liking. “There’s a lot you don’t know.”
She refused to allow him to shut her out when it was imperative she knew everything she was up against. “Then enlighten me, because I need to understand who I’m going undercover with.”
Releasing a deep breath, he set his empty plate in the sink, then grabbed hers and did the same. He pinned her with a direct, uncompromising look. “This is off the record.”
His meaning was clear. Whatever he was about to tell her wasn’t fodder for an article or story. “You have my promise.” As a journalist, she prided herself on being honest and ethical, and her oath to him was no different.
Nathan braced his hands on the edge of the counter across from where Nicole sat at the bar area, knowing he had to trust her with a lot of private information in order for this partnership of theirs to work. He’d received Caleb’s permission earlier to divulge his own involvement with TRG, just as long as Nicole didn’t exploit it.
Ultimately, he chose to believe she wouldn’t betray him, a first step in forging a strong alliance between them. “Caleb is the operations manager at The Onyx, but he’s also the head of a private organization called The Reliance Group, and that’s where the undercover work comes in.”
She tipped her head to the side, her expression intrigued by what he’d just disclosed. “What, exactly, does The Reliance Group do?”
“TRG is a private organization that takes on complicated cases other agencies won’t get involved with for various reasons,” he explained. “Such as the situation with Angela Ramsey and Preston Sloane.”
“I thought Angela was a runaway,” she said, her tone confused. “Or did Sloane kidnap the girl?”
He shook his head. “No, she’s classified as a runaway. Honestly, this case would have been much more cut-and-dried if Sloane had kidnapped her. At least then the police would have reason to arrest him.”
“Right, but Sloane wouldn’t put himself in that position.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” he said, his voice filled with disgust as he refilled his mug with hot coffee. “And unfortunately, the guy doesn’t need to. He has a way of finding young, vulnerable girls and luring them into his world in a way that keeps him completely beyond the law. Which is why no one has been able to nail him yet.”
She was quiet for a moment, seemingly processing everything he’d just told her before speaking again. “Isn’t Angela from Arizona?”
He finished taking a drink of his coffee. “Yes.”
“Your investigation report has her listed as a sixteen-year-old minor,” she replied thoughtfully as she crossed her arms on the counter in front of where she sat. “So why not just place a call to Vegas Metro and let them handle the problem?”
A logical question from a very intelligent woman, he mused. “Angela’s parents tried doing exactly that after their PI tracked her here to Vegas and Sloane’s estate in Summerlin. The police paid a visit to Sloane’s place, but didn’t find Angela.
“Then there’s the added complication that according to Nevada state law, since Angela is sixteen years old, she’s legally the age of consent as far as any sexual activity is concerned,” he continued, both frustrated and outraged by that particular law, especially in a city where sexual corruption ran rampant. “So even if she is having sex with Sloane, it’s not a crime.”
“But harboring a runaway is, no matter the age of consent,” she countered, obviously familiar with the statutes.
“There’s absolutely no proof that he’s holding Angela against her wil
l, which is why Nevada authorities aren’t doing anything more about the case,” he said. “The police didn’t find any evidence that Angela was at, or had been at, Sloane’s estate, and it’s the perfect excuse for them to quietly sweep the whole incident under the carpet. Which is why Tom Ramsey contacted TRG to track his daughter down and get her safely back home.”
She nodded in understanding. “Well, we have the private party with Sloane tomorrow night, which will hopefully give us the chance to see if Angela is at the nightclub. If not, I can give Sloane a call and set up a time to go and see his artwork collection, and use that as a way of getting into his estate and finding Angela.”
“You’re not going near Sloane without me. Period .” The thought of anything happening to Nicole on his watch made his stomach churn. “We’re doing this my way, remember?”
She sighed, but didn’t bristle under his demand. “Yes, I remember.”
“Good. We really need to be careful how we handle this mission. Right now, we have no idea if this is going to be a hostile rescue or if Angela is going to cooperate with us.” Not to mention Angela’s mental well-being if she’d been influenced to stay through brainwashing techniques or strong-arm tactics, or even drugs. There were so many unknowns, which made this situation an unpredictable one.
Leaving the kitchen, he headed into the living room and grabbed the case file before returning to where Nicole was sitting. He sat down on the bar stool next to hers, and set the folder-now fatter than when she’d found it a few weeks ago-on the counter in front of her.
“I know you’re familiar with the details of this case,” he said, referring to the confidential material she’d pilfered the night they’d met. “But here’s the file now that it’s been updated with recent information on Sloane. You also need to take a good look at Angela’s photo so we can single her out at the nightclub tomorrow if she’s there.”
Nodding, Nicole opened the folder and studied the attached high school picture of Angela, then moved on to the other information Caleb had accumulated on the case, while Nathan tried not to think about the huge mistakes the young girl had made. First, running away from the security of home and parents who loved her. And second, trusting someone like Preston Sloane, even for a second.
Into The Night Page 10