The speed limit on the I-25 was 75 mph, but that was for people who didn’t have a buddy in the DA’s office. I had lost count of how many times Skylar had gotten me out of tickets and other petty bullshit charges. Although, I’d had my fair share of getting him out of close ones too, being his alibi when he needed one.

As I sped along, weaving around cars like I was on an extended obstacle course, I thought about what I’d been doing this time yesterday. Or, rather, who. I never had gotten around to telling Cynthia to forget about Donna, but it didn’t really matter now. Now, I was going to see a potential business partner, and tonight it would be Selma’s. I wouldn’t stop at home; Paul could do what he wanted as long as I wouldn’t be around to suffer through it.

So, speeding as I was, it only took me an hour to pull up to the dirt parking lot of the Manitou Cliff Dwellings. At the ticket window, I had to fork over $9.50, but it was a small price to pay when, with this potential land deal, I could very well be making millions. It was incredible to believe that this land (with springs on it, no less) could be owned by a civilian, but stranger things had happened—like a certain civilian handcuffing herself to my desk.

Walking toward the cliff dwellings, I texted Miss Turndale and began scanning the crowd for a woman who didn’t look like an oblivious tourist. But I saw nothing. The next message on my phone indicated why: I’m in the first cave dwelling.

I paused. Okay, something was definitely up. I went back to my car and got out my gun, slipping it into my inner coat pocket. I saved my Glock 43 for special occasions, and being cornered by one of the countless crazies angered by my pipeline plans definitely qualified.

So, as I walked up toward the cliff dwellings, the feel of the hard metal in my leather jacket, pressed to my chest, relieved me. “If you’re prepared, there’s nothing you can’t handle,” as Father used to say.

Already, as I made my way up, the tourists were practically drooling with excitement over the far-off cave dwellings. I tried squinting at the red-stone, old-looking things, but they looked as unimpressive as they had the other three times I’d come here to see them. Hell, people would do anything for a new bit of entertainment these days.

I glanced at my phone, at the “Tell Cynthia to forget about Donna” memo. Look at me. I’d gotten the first new girl in weeks and already I couldn’t think of anything else. Though—and I didn’t know why—it seemed like there was something different about this one, maybe. Maybe not. Who was I kidding?

What are you wearing? I texted the would-be attacker.

Although it wasn’t like they were going to reply: Ski-mask. I’m the one with the AK-47 pointed at your head.

The closer I got to the red structures, the less impressed I was. Great, some people back then built some old stuff that worked great except not nearly as well as basically everything we had now. What was the big deal? Why not enjoy what we had now instead of wasting time salivating over an old pile of rubble?

I was at the first cave dwelling when Miss Ashely or whoever responded: Purple flowered dress.

I stepped in and immediately saw her, the woman in the white dress with the purple flowers. She had braided mahogany brown hair and dancing baby blue eyes. Donna.

She smiled when she saw me.

“Hi.”

I couldn’t stop a smile from making its way onto my face.

“How, and why?”

She flashed a pink-lipped grin.

“Your secretary’s pretty easy to lie to.”

I had to laugh at that one. After all, I had been promising that woman for months that we were actually going to go out for dinner for once—my treat.

Looking her up and down, I said, “You still haven’t told me why.”

She said nothing, looking conflicted herself.

I strode up to her and, pressing her into the wall, murmured in her ear, “I think I know why.”

Shoving me back, she shook her head, one stray piece of her bangs swaying with the movement.

“No, I…” Her eyes met mine. “I mean, I’m grateful you helped my family; really, I am. If only you knew how…” She shook her head again.

“I just…last time—I know it’s stupid—I just thought that when I looked at you, when I really looked at you, it was like I wasn’t looking at the Carter Ray I had heard about. I was looking at someone different, someone who would maybe understand when I told him that this latest pipeline of his, the Morrison one, it’s not right. That he’s planning to build it in an area that is one of the most biodiverse Colorado has, and that the wildlife and natural beauty the pipeline will destroy…”

Catching sight of my face, her voice trailed off.

“Never mind. Forget it. It was stupid to think that you’d care.”

I shrugged. “Guess so.”

Her face fell, and as anger rushed through me, the words came out before I could stop them.

“Don’t think you know me, or anything about me.”

Anger flashed through her own narrowed eyes, then something else, too. Hope. It was just a flicker, but when I heard the guarded, soft-spoken words—“What does that mean?”—I could only respond with, “I don’t know.”

And so, we stood there, glaring at each other, me, her, and her assumed version of me. And the problem was that I wasn’t sure which of us was right, who I really was—her worst stereotype, or her best hope—or both. I wasn’t sure why I cared, or why, for the first time in years, I had said the idiotic words “I don’t know.”

“We can make another deal.”

Now she smiled outright, and her smile became mine.

“Yes?”

Annoyance flashed through me. So, she thought she’d just get her way with that smile of hers and live happily ever after, huh? Well, she was in for a rough surprise when she heard just what this deal would require of her.

Closing my hand around her neck, I growled into her ear. “I could reroute the pipeline. In return, I could use a companion for the next few weeks. One who knows how to listen.”

Donna didn’t move. Her lips were parted, her eyes flicking over my face.

“You mean…” she breathed, and I nodded.

“You would be my submissive. You would have to do what I say.”

Fear flashed through those clear blue eyes. Then, something else. Something that had me hardening as I pressed myself into her. Excitement.

“Okay,” she whispered.

At the sound of people walking in behind us, I let her go. We stood there for a minute, staring at each other, our lips parted. God, I could’ve taken her right there if it wasn’t for the stupid Mom and Pop behind us with their ball-capped 10-year-old.

Donna was drawing toward me already, asking me, “What will my first task be?”

I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of there. Down the steps we went, past more oblivious flocks of tourists. We rounded a corner, and, alone once again, I pressed her up against a fence beside the steps.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

I let her go, and, her eager eyes scanning my face, she asked, “Where are we going?”

Whirling around, I pressed her back to the fence, my palm over her mouth, and growled in her ear, “No questions, just follow me.”

Her eyes wide—yet no less eager—she nodded.

When we got to the parking lot, I steered her to my car.

“We’ll have to drive there.”

Again, there was that same slightly aroused, slightly nervous look.

I opened the passenger side door for her, and she got in. I got in the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition, turned it, and then we were off.

The drive there was quiet. I didn’t play any music or say anything. No, as I hurtled down the highway, twenty miles per hour over the speed limit, I flicked glances over at her shy, averted face. Each time, I wasn’t disappointed. Donna was nervous, definitely, but undeniably excited. She wanted this.

Only a few minutes later, I was pulling the coupe over on the side of the road, the part by the sign that read “Hurricane Canyon Natural Area.” I turned off the engine and then faced Donna.

“Wait here.”

She nodded, and I got out and walked to the trunk. I got out some rope, looped it around one of my arms, and then made my way to the passenger door. Opening it, I swept her up in my arms.

Then, I made for the trees, talking as I went.

“Don’t worry; we’re almost there.” As I carried her, my hand slid to her ass and squeezed. “You’re going to like it.”