CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nicole pushed open the glass door leading into the offices of The Las Vegas Commentary with her hip, since she held two large vanilla lattes in her hands.
As much as she wasn’t looking forward to attending the biweekly, mandatory editorial meeting that morning, she was glad to be out of Nathan’s apartment for a few hours. She hated being cooped up so much, and with the two of them heading off to Sloane’s estate tomorrow afternoon for what was likely to be a very intense weekend, Nicole welcomed the chance to relax and be herself among co-workers and friends.
She smiled and said a cheerful hello to the receptionist, then made her way through a maze of bland gray partitions until she reached Michelle’s small cubicle, which was located right next to Nicole’s. While her friend had opted to personalize her little makeshift office with pictures of her fiancé Robert, flowers and knickknacks, Nicole’s looked barren in comparison. There was a standard desk and a docking station for her laptop computer, but nothing else to indicate the alcove was anything other than a temporary work space.
For the most part, Nicole preferred to research and write her features outside the main office, and luckily her assignments didn’t require she spend a whole lot of time in her cramped cubicle. And in this wonderful day and age of sending in her articles via e-mail attachments, as she’d done with her online dating feature and the commentary on Preston Sloane’s involvement with the new women’s shelter, she only needed to be present for any required meetings.
Nicole waited for Michelle to finish the call she was on. As soon as she hung up, Nicole stepped forward with her offering. “Hey, girlfriend. I brought you some liquid fortitude for the editorial meeting.”
Michelle spun around in her chair, her eyes bright with gratitude. “You are a goddess,” she said with a grin, and wrapped her fingers around the paper cup before taking a long sip of the sweetened latte.
Closing her eyes, she moaned her pleasure as she savored the coffee drink, and Nicole laughed at her friend’s enthusiastic display.
“That’s almost as good as sex,” Michelle teased, and licked a splotch of foam from her upper lip. “How did you know I desperately needed caffeine this morning?”
Nicole shrugged. “Lucky guess.” And she just knew her friend that well. It didn’t matter the time of day—Michelle always appreciated a cup of designer coffee.
Michelle set the cup down on her desk, her gaze turning soft and sincere. “I’ve missed having you around. The apartment is so quiet and lonely without you.”
As much as she enjoyed Michelle’s friendship, Nicole realized she’d settled into a comfortable routine with Nathan in the short time they’d been living together. Too comfortable, if the sudden rapid beating of her heart was any indication.
She’d grown used to having her meals with Nathan, used to sleeping with him throughout the night, and used to their easy conversations, which encompassed a wide variety of topics they sometimes agreed upon, and other times argued about. But even those debates she found stimulating and invigorating because he challenged her intellectually and respected her opinions.
She told herself the familiarity was a result of their proximity, and indulging in the hottest sex of her life on a regular basis was a perk of their agreement. Yet there were times she caught him watching her doing mundane things around the apartment, his gaze so warm and caring she experienced a deep, inexplicable yearning for something more.
At certain times, he made her feel weak—not physically, but emotionally, deep in her heart where it mattered the most. And that realization literally scared the crap out of the strong, independent woman she’d become when she’d sworn she would never allow a man to have that kind of control over her feelings ever again.
Realizing that her mind had traveled down a road better off not traveled, she refocused on Michelle and the discussion they’d been having.
“I thought you and Robert would be taking advantage of the fact that I haven’t been at the apartment,” Nicole teased, and took a drink of her vanilla latte, which was finally the perfect temperature.
A blush swept over Michelle’s cheeks. “Oh, we have, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t missed you.”
“I’ll be back before you know it,” she said, and immediately dismissed the deep pang in her chest at the thought of leaving Nathan behind. But she would, just as soon as they both finished the job they’d promised to do. “Hopefully after this weekend.”
“Really?” Michelle asked, the one word brimming with a wealth of questions she didn’t dare voice with so many inquiring ears around.
“We’re heading out to the estate tomorrow,” Nicole told her, knowing her friend would figure out exactly what that meant.
Michelle stared at her with unmistakable concern in her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Absolutely.” Nicole had come this far, and she wasn’t going to back out now.
Knowing there was nothing she could say or do to change Nicole’s decision, Michelle didn’t bother arguing, which Nicole appreciated.
She was ready and willing to do whatever it took to bring Sloane down. She wanted an exposé on Sloane so badly she could taste it, but she also realized that safely retrieving Angela was their main priority. The possibility that Nicole could walk away from all this without a story was a risk she was willing to take if it meant giving even one girl a real future.
Michelle leaned back in her chair and picked up her latte again. “So, how is Tall, Dark, and Handsome?”
Nicole smiled at the nickname her friend had given Nathan. “He’s good,” she replied nonchalantly, certain she knew where Michelle was heading with her line of questioning.
Michelle regarded Nicole speculatively. Having met Nathan a few times, her good friend insisted there was more than just a sexual spark there.
“Is anything serious going to come of all this between the two of you?” she asked optimistically.
“Of course not,” Nicole said, and meant it, but her friend didn’t look as convinced. “Look, he’s a great guy, and I’m enjoying my time with him. But we have a common goal, and once it’s met, we’re going our separate ways.”
Catching sight of her co-workers heading toward the conference room, Nicole jumped on the excuse to change the subject before Michelle could grill her further. “Looks like the meeting is getting ready to start. We’d better head that way ourselves.”
Michelle smirked, seeing right through Nicole’s attempt to put an end to the discussion. “You’ve always been good at avoiding conversations about your love life.”
“It’s a honed skill,” Nicole said, only half kidding. “Besides, love has nothing to do with Nathan and me.”
“Too bad.” Michelle sounded genuinely disappointed as she stood up and grabbed a file folder from her desk. “He seems like a really good match for you.”
Yeah, he was an amazing guy, but Nicole wasn’t such a great catch. She was smart enough to face the fact that she carried around a lot of emotional baggage, and she was better off committing to her work than a man.
Together, they walked to the conference room, then took a seat next to each other as the chairs around the large table quickly filled up with co-workers. Finally, Sharon entered and took her place at the head of the table, and the editorial meeting began.
The group gave their input on artwork for a future issue of the magazine, and suggestions for different and unique columns to add to the periodical were tossed out for consideration. Contributing writers were assigned topics to cover for upcoming features, and Nicole was less than thrilled when Sharon enthusiastically informed her that her next two articles would entail a “Date My Friend” party, and a “Dating in the Dark” meet-and-mingle.
Everyone seemed excited to start their next project, except Nicole. As the meeting came to an end and her co-workers filtered out of the conference room, anxious to get a jump-start on all their exciting new features and stories, Nicole found it difficult to drum up even an ounce of enthusiasm for her next two assignments. Instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of dread at the thought of spending the next few weeks researching, and writing about, yet more dating trends.
Everything about the meeting reinforced her decision to start looking for a new job. It was a choice she had to make in order to save her sanity. The fluff pieces were stifling her as a journalist, and didn’t give her any kind of mental challenge or creative outlet. She wanted, needed, to write stimulating stories and features that inspired people or provided controversy to make them think.
That had always been her goal, and with the Commentary focusing more on entertainment, style, and escapism, she was feeling more and more boxed in as a writer. Starting over as low man on the totem pole somewhere new didn’t hold a lot of appeal, but life was too short to stay with a job she was coming to hate.
Maybe it was time to really shake up the direction of her career and move to a bigger city with bigger opportunities. Unfortunately, all she had to her credit was a portfolio of light, frivolous articles and features that most editors at major-league publications would be less than impressed with.
The room was empty except for her and Sharon, and with a tired sigh Nicole gathered her day planner of notes and stood, resigned to writing the next couple of dating articles until she had the chance to put together a strong résumé and a better offer came along.
Sharon stood, too, smiling at Nicole. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, good job on the feature you wrote on Preston Sloane and the women’s shelter. I know it was a last-minute assignment, but I appreciate you stepping in and covering the piece.”
“It’s my job.” Despite loathing the man and everything he stood for, one of the first rules she’d learned when it came to writing for The Las Vegas Commentary was to keep her personal feelings out of the stories she wrote. It was all about facts, entertainment, and feel-good features. No one who picked up the Commentary wanted to read about a pedophile.
Still, she hated the pretty lies and false perceptions she’d been forced to write about Sloane and his do-good deed with the women’s shelter.
Suppressing her resentment and anger, she turned away from Sharon and headed for the door. “Though how we can print such glorified crap about a man who is the epitome of scum is beyond me,” she muttered beneath her breath.
“Excuse me?” Sharon asked sharply.
Nicole came to an abrupt stop and squeezed her eyes closed in frustration, knowing she’d overstepped boundaries she never should have crossed at work. The hostile words had just slipped out of her mouth uncensored, and even though she knew she shouldn’t have said anything derogatory, she wasn’t about to apologize for the truth.
She faced Sharon, who’d crossed her arms over her breasts and looked none too happy about Nicole’s disparaging comment.
Well, tough shit, Nicole thought. She wasn’t about to sugarcoat her feelings about the situation, or Sloane, even if it meant getting her walking papers for speaking her mind. There were some things she refused to compromise, and one was her integrity.
“I wrote that feature on Sloane and his contribution to the women’s shelter because I didn’t have a choice,” she stated without apology. “As a journalist, I know I have to be unbiased on whatever subject I’m writing about, despite my own personal opinions and feelings, and that’s exactly what I did with Sloane. But it literally made me sick to glorify what he wants everyone to believe was an altruistic, compassionate gesture toward abused women when that’s exactly what he does. The man is a hypocrite when it comes to promoting his public perception, and I hate that I had to support his duplicity.”
Sharon’s gaze widened in shock at Nicole’s outspoken condemnation of Preston Sloane. “You don’t know any of that for a fact,” she replied carefully.
Oh, but she did. Nicole had up-close, personal, heartbreaking knowledge of Sloane’s operations. As much as she wanted to enlighten Sharon, she didn’t dare. Not only did she not want her editor to know what she was doing on the side, but Nicole wasn’t about to jeopardize Nathan’s case in any way.
Still, she wasn’t willing to let the subject die just yet. “Can you honestly say you haven’t heard rumblings about his preference for underage girls?”
“I won’t confirm or deny anything, and it’s not your job to go digging in that direction, either,” Sharon warned, and ended the discussion by walking out of the conference room.
No, it wasn’t Nicole’s place to dig into such a controversial story as an entertainment writer for The Las Vegas Commentary. But what she did on her own private time was her own business. Someone had to help those girls who’d succumbed to Sloane’s promises of affection and material possessions, and Nicole was committed to doing whatever it took to rescue Angela this weekend, and to save any other girl who wanted out.
*
He’d promised to protect her. He’d promised to make sure she was safe and guarded. And she died. Murdered. Her senseless death was all because he’d failed to shield her from the evil stalking her, waiting for the chance to end her life before she could testify.
With a strangled gasp, Nathan shot upright in bed, his body damp with sweat and his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. He forced the haunting images from his mind, but the awful sense of grief and failure remained, and he feared it always would.
“Nathan?” Nicole stirred on the bed beside him, her sleepy voice tinged with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lied, his throat raspy and raw. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
Knowing any chance of rest would elude him after that rude awakening, Nathan got out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and headed into the living room so he didn’t disturb Nicole by tossing and turning for the rest of the night.
Standing at the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the bright lights of the Strip, he splayed his hand on the cool pane of glass and exhaled a soul-deep sigh that did nothing to ease his guilt. The pain of the past still sliced deep, and with the pressure of getting Angela out of Sloane’s estate this weekend messing with his psyche, was it any wonder the nightmares had returned?
He curled his hand into a fist and cursed Caleb for giving him this case, for forcing him to relive his past and the mistakes he’d made that had cost a young girl her life. Yet despite Caleb’s tough-love approach, Nathan was committed to doing the job, and this time making damn sure no one got hurt in the process. There was no way he’d be able to face Angela’s father if anything happened to her. He was determined to reunite Angela with her family, and give her back her life. Give her a future.
“Nathan? What’s going on?”
Nicole’s soft, caring voice drifted from behind him, and when her fingertips lightly touched his tense back he instinctively flinched away. He immediately regretted the harsh reaction, and when he turned around to face her he hated that he’d been the one to put that hurt look in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, and noticed that she’d put on one of his gray T-shirts, which looked exceptionally good on her. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” she persisted.
He shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
She pursed her lips in annoyance, his dismissive words seemingly making her more determined to discover what had driven him from their bed in the middle of the night. “I can’t just go back to sleep when I know something’s wrong,” she said, searching his gaze for answers.
He looked away. “Just leave it alone,” he said, even though he knew the inquisitive reporter in her wouldn’t drop the subject so easily. She sensed a story, and uncovering it was second nature to her.
And he knew she was damn good at her job.
“It’s this case, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice firm with conviction as she managed to home in on what was weighing so heavily on his mind. “It’s personal for you, just as it is for me. I’ve sensed that from the very beginning. What I’d like to know is how and why?”
“It’s ugly,” he said, as if that could scare her into backing off.
She crossed her arms over her chest and held her ground. “Everything about this case is ugly and repulsive and horrifying. But right now we’re partners, and I’m not some fragile woman who can’t handle the truth. There’s nothing you could tell me that would shock me, or make me think any differently of the man you are.”
He wasn’t so sure. Hadn’t one woman turned her back on him when he’d needed her support the most? Then again, he knew deep in his gut that Nicole was the complete opposite of Jill, in every way that mattered. Her strength. Her fortitude. Her ability to be vulnerable, yet courageous enough to stand up for what she believed in.
She settled on the cushion next to his. “Why is this case so important to you?” she asked, her tone much softer now.
He could have denied everything, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. She deserved to know the truth about him, and if he was honest with himself, he no longer wanted to carry the burden of his past alone. And trusting Nicole came easily, because he knew she’d never betray his confidence.
He looked at her. The living room was dark, but the glow from the lights of the city gave him just enough illumination to see the caring in her expression, the need to understand what drove him, and a tenderness that affirmed the undeniable connection between them.
“This is my chance to right a wrong,” he said, his voice filled with so much pain it hurt to speak. “During my last undercover assignment as a vice cop, I was sent in with a few other guys in my department to infiltrate a prostitution ring. We were to gather enough evidence to bring down the leader, Paulo Rodriguez, and break up the organization. It took months to work my way in, and what I saw during that time turned my stomach. The young girls, the drugs and abuse, the sex trafficking. It was beyond anything I could have imagined.”
He dragged a hand down the side of his face and along the taut set of his jaw before continuing. “A lot of the victims were runaways, but others had been either lured in with promises of modeling careers and money, or just abducted right off the streets.”
Nicole pressed her fingers to her lips, her eyes wide as she listened to the shocking reality of what he’d witnessed.
He skipped over the more gruesome details of his assignment, because it wasn’t something Nicole needed to hear, and it wasn’t something he wanted to relive, either, even in his mind. “While I was undercover, I came in contact with a seventeen-year-old girl named Katie who’d been given to me by Paulo. Katie never could understand why we just talked whenever we were together, but after a while she came to trust me. I learned that she’d once been one of Sloane’s girls, until he decided she was too old for him and turned her out on the street. That’s when Paulo picked her up. Because Katie didn’t think she had anywhere else to go, and she was too ashamed to contact her family for help, she got sucked into a much harsher life of street prostitution.”
“Oh, God,” Nicole breathed. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and she looked completely devastated by Katie’s troubled circumstances, along with the fact that Sloane had been the one to set Katie’s tragic future into motion.
“Over time, she supplied me with a lot of information that helped to take down Rodriguez and his organization,” he went on. “When vice finally had enough evidence to arrest him, they raided his place just outside Vegas and busted him for prostitution, pandering, sex trafficking, and other drug-related charges. They took the underage girls into custody and released them back to their parents, but the DA needed Katie’s testimony to ensure that the charges against Rodriguez held and he was given a maximum sentence.”
He dragged in a deep breath, the air burning his lungs like acid. He didn’t want to go on, didn’t want to revive those awful memories, but now he realized it was a matter of purging himself of years of guilt and grief. He needed the poison out of his system so hopefully he could move on and heal.
He stared at the hands he’d clasped between his widespread thighs, remembering the details all too well. “Katie was so beat up physically, and so scared of Rodriguez, that she initially refused to testify. She kept saying that Paulo would kill her, even though he was behind bars. After promising her that she would be kept safe and secure before the court date, and would go into witness protection afterward, she finally agreed to be a witness for the prosecution.”
“What happened?” Nicole asked, and Nathan heard the reluctance in her voice, as if she knew his story didn’t have a happy ending, but needed to hear it anyway.
“She was kept at a safe house. The day she was scheduled to testify she was escorted to the courthouse by uniformed policemen,” he said, feeling his throat close up with a wealth of emotion he couldn’t hold back, no matter how hard he tried. “Just as she reached the doors, Paulo’s brother, José, shot her in the head. He killed her so she couldn’t testify against Rodriguez. The officers returned fire and killed José, but the bastard died for his brother and sent a pretty strong message to anyone else who might have thought about testifying.”
He shoved both hands through his hair, the renewed fury rushing through his veins so strongly he wanted to punch something to relieve his rage.
But then Nicole touched him, her fingers gently curling around his forearm in a show of tenderness and support, calming him. “You couldn’t have known what would happen.”
“I royally fucked up.” He finally looked at Nicole, and was shocked to see the trail of tears down her cheek. She felt his pain, and Katie’s, and it made him realize that he’d made the right choice by confiding in her. “I should have protected her better, and instead she was murdered in cold blood. She’s dead, and Paulo was acquitted. The bastard walked. The injustice of it was enough to send me into a downhill spiral of self-destruction.”
Those dark, depressing days after Katie’s death had nearly destroyed him. “I couldn’t handle the guilt, and my fiancée at the time, Jill, couldn’t deal with my dark moods. I drank to dull the pain.”
Or rather, she hadn’t even tried to understand. She’d never offered him the comfort and support he’d so badly needed, which had made his downfall even worse. Looking back, he knew her leaving was for the best, that she wasn’t the kind of woman he required in his life for the long haul. But at the time, her walking out on him when he’d needed her the most had only added to his pain.
He shifted restlessly beside Nicole, feeling her gaze on him, and sensing her patience and compassion. “I quit the force, because I felt as though the system had let me, and Katie, down. I finally got my shit together and cleaned up my act, and when Caleb hired me on as a surveillance supervisor for The Onyx, I was grateful for a second chance, and a job that didn’t put people’s lives in danger. Then Caleb recruited me for The Reliance Group because of my skills as a vice cop, and I actually enjoyed the occasional cases that came my way.”
“Until now?” she guessed.
“Yeah, until now.” He shook his head. “I never wanted to be responsible for another person’s life ever again. And now here I am, about to head right back into a similar situation that has the potential of being life-threatening. Caleb knew exactly what he was doing when he assigned me this case. The connection between Katie and Sloane, and the similarities to Angela’s situation, are crystal clear.”
Nicole smiled, her earlier sadness over Katie’s story diminishing. “Caleb’s a good man, and he wouldn’t give you something he didn’t think you couldn’t handle.”
He hoped to God she was right, because there was no way he could live with another black mark on his conscience. This was his chance at redemption, and he desperately needed something good to come of this case so he could finally put the past behind him and move on.
Coming up on her knees beside him, she framed his face between her cool hands, her eyes locking on his. “Life is rarely perfect, and it’s certainly not scripted, which makes things difficult at times. But we’re going to get Angela safely out of there,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “She deserves a second chance, and we’re going to give it to her.”
He believed her. How could he not?
Goddamn. He loved her—this woman who wore a tough exterior, but was so soft and vulnerable inside. This woman who gave so much of herself, yet kept her emotions guarded and protected so she, too, wouldn’t have her heart trampled all over again. But causing her any kind of pain was the very last thing he ever wanted to do to her.
Love her, yes.
Hurt her, never.
Leaning forward, he settled his lips over hers and kissed her with softness and gratitude for everything she’d given him tonight. Her mouth was warm and sweet and so generous, pulling him in, offering him everything he’d ever wanted. Everything he needed. And in return, he ached to give her a slow, soft seduction that promised to last a lifetime. If she was willing to give them a chance.
He skimmed his hands beneath the loose T-shirt she was wearing and broke their kiss just long enough to draw the top over her head and toss it to the floor before his mouth found hers again. In between lush, soul-deep kisses, he removed her silky panties, along with his sweatpants. Then he gently pressed her back into the plush sofa cushions, his hands reverent as they traced her sweet curves, his fingers devoted to her pleasure as they caressed her sensitive breasts and, farther down, teased and stroked between her smooth, sleek thighs until she was begging him to take her, to ease the slow burning need building inside her.
She sighed blissfully when he finally shifted between her legs, and in a leisurely thrust filled her up. A low, ragged moan escaped her when he pulled her legs high around his waist and sank deeper, losing himself in her heat, the tight clasp of her sex, and the very essence of what made her so sweet and feminine.
In time, he felt her body quicken beneath his, heard the telltale hitch in her breathing, and recognized the arousing signs he’d learned so quickly, and so well. Lifting his head, he stared into her smoky blue eyes and held her gaze, watching as the wild desire softened with genuine emotion just before her lashes fluttered closed and she whispered his name like a litany, over and over, as she lost herself in a shuddering orgasm.
Exhilarated and hopeful, he gave himself over to his own climax—the hot rush of release, and the knowledge that this woman owned his heart and the deepest part of his soul.