Into the Night by Janelle Denison Page B

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