As hard as it is, Tara, to make you understand what I see when I look at this beautiful scene, I’m going to try.”
Gratified that he’d managed to get her to sit on the ground beside him, Griffin began to describe how he’d felt when he first saw this extraordinary view. “I will never forget the first time I came here, Tara. It was as close to a spiritual reaction as I’ve had. I could almost see, feel the people who’d lived here centuries, eons ago. I heard their music, their voices, in the wind over the mountains. I’ve always been moved by the land I’ve developed—always felt a personal, deep-seated connection to it—but I can honestly say that this land has moved me like no other. That was why I stooped to haggle with that disgusting reprobate Sledge Perkins. It was essential that I take back what he essentially stole over the years. I needed to complete a pristine package that he’d corrupted simply by owning it.”
Tara was silent. If anything, her posture had become more rigid as he described his reaction to the remarkable land before them. Griffin stopped talking, hoping that the silence would encourage her to speak. She hadn’t said anything since her ugly allegation that she didn’t understand why he’d found it necessary to fuck her before he screwed her. As angry as her accusation had made him, he wasn’t surprised that she’d scoffed at his assertion that he thought he loved her. Frankly, he’d been as shocked as he was sure she’d been at his unexpected declaration. Remembering their two remarkable nights together, there was no way that either of them could ignore the passion they’d shared. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it sure as hell was more powerful than anything he’d ever felt with another woman. He refused to let her dismiss it. But that challenge would have to wait. First, he needed her to understand that in surprising ways, he was as dedicated to the preservation of this astonishing land as she was. Her angry accusation allowed him an opening. “If you like it so fucking much, why do you want to destroy it?”
Sucking in a deep breath, he rose to his feet and then tugged her up beside him. Refusing to relinquish her hand, he led her over to a corner of the ridge and pointed to the land to the north of the ravine. “Look beyond that rise, Tara, to the rolling hills. While you see pristine land, I do as well. But I also see possibilities. I see homes for people who love this land as much as you do and who never thought that they could be lucky enough to live here. To the left where the land flattens, I see a school and a community center.” Excited about his ideas, he wasn’t surprised that his voice rose. “What I also see, Tara, are green spaces, and over there by the San Pedro River, I see a neighborhood park where children can play in the water.” He laughed softly, “I know you think I’m foolish, but I can almost hear their excited shrieks, their laughter. It reminds me of the people who came before, who loved this land as much as you do—as I do.”
He held her in front of him and when she didn’t resist, actually leaned against him, he murmured, “I could use your help, Tara. You could help me make this development more environmentally aware than any of my projects.” He felt her stiffen but he ploughed ahead. “I wish that you would talk to Robert Redhorse in Oklahoma. Robert was as concerned about my corrupting their tribal land as you are about this land. Robert and I worked together, and with his help and guidance, we created a project that has become the gold standard for environmentally sensitive development.”
Griffin wasn’t surprised when she pushed him away and turned a fierce glare on him. Her voice was scathing. “Is that what this is all about, Griffin? You need to co-opt me? Figure out how you can stop the eco-freak editor from preventing you from becoming even wealthier? And become even more victorious than you usually are? Heck, just think, you could add me to the list of all those grateful Indians and city fathers who fell for your charm and begged you to ravage their land. You know, that list you had Jia give to anyone outrageous enough to question you.” Holding up her hands to prevent him from reaching for her, she shook her head. “Sorry to tell you, but you could have saved yourself a couple of wasted nights, and heck, a pile of designer clothes. There’s not a fucking thing I can do to stop you. I’ve already talked to the people I thought would help me prevent you from ransacking the land.” She added bitterly, “I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve already won over my most reliable supporters.”
Struggling with the fury that threatened to overtake him at her outrageous claims and not able to keep his voice from hardening, Griffin said carefully, “I’m not going to respond to that obnoxious accusation, Tara, at least at this time. I brought you here not to co-opt you, but to ask for your help. I’d hoped that I might be able to convince you that I care as much about this land as you do. And that together, we might be able to create something we both can be proud of.”
He forced himself to breathe deeply. Then, seeing her fierce expression, he decided it was hopeless. He shook his head and turned to walk back to where he’d parked his Harley. He had nearly reached the bike when, to his surprise, she called after him.
“Griffin . . . I . . . I . . . Don’t go.”
Frowning, he turned back, surprised to see her expression. Seeing her strained countenance, if he didn’t know better, he might think she was sorry for her outburst, that she might even be trying to apologize. Holding his ground, he waited for her to have her say.
He saw her visibly swallow and then say in a barely audible voice, “I . . . I . . . already talked to Robert Redhorse. I also talked to Sally Whitefeather and Peter Longbow and a couple of other representatives on the list that bitch Jia gave me . . . ”
Again, after visibly swallowing, she blew out a hard breath and added, “Each of them agreed to write a guest editorial describing what they believe Black Enterprises did for their tribes. I plan to publish them alongside other less flattering editorials from people who feel more like I do.”
Griffin pressed his lips together in a firm line. He blew out an audible breath, then slowly walked back to her. Reaching for her arm, he managed to say in a reasonably quiet tone, “Is there a reason you didn’t bother to tell me this until now?” When she just shook her head and refused to meet his gaze, he tightened his grip on her arm. When she tried to pull away, he shook his head. “Not a chance, sweetheart. You think you can attack me the way that you just did, then calmly assert that you are going to publish editorials that actually support my work?” When she nodded and again tried to pull away, he gripped her more firmly and snapped, “Think again, darlin’.” Sucking in an audible breath, he didn’t couch the anger threatening to overtake him. “I could tell you it doesn’t matter, that you can attack me all you want in the most despicable ways possible and then blithely assert that, oh, by the way, you will be publishing columns by supporters of mine.”
She quickly interjected. “I’m also publishing some that don’t support you. From people who feel the way I do.”
He pinned her with a narrowed gaze and didn’t bother to hide his contempt. “I see. And in the editorials that oppose my work, presumably the ones you write, will you bother to explain why you just attacked me the way that you did? That you accused me of making love to you in order to get your fucking support for my goddamned development? Is that something I can expect to read in your fucking editorials? How I could have saved myself a . . . let’s see. How did you put it? Oh yeah, now I remember. You said I ‘could have saved myself a couple of wasted nights, and a pile of designer clothes.’ Did I get that right, Tara?”
Seeing her lips tremble and tears flood her anguished eyes, Griffin was shocked at his reaction. Tightening his grip on her arm, he jerked her up next to him. His voice was low and so riddled with anger it surprised him. “I have an idea, Tara. How about we strip those expensive clothes off of you and I lay you out on this holy ground of yours and fuck your brains out? Does that work for you, baby? Hell, in one fell swoop, we can take care of the clothes issue and waste another day fucking you.”
Startled at how truly angry he was, he tried to step back, but she held up her hand, stopping him. Her face was alabaster white except for bright scarlet splotches flushing her cheeks. But it was the expression he saw in her eyes that stopped him, froze him in place. He would have thought he was crazy if it weren’t for what she said and did next.
She swallowed hard, then said in a barely audible voice, “If that’s what you think you should do, what I deserve, what’s stopping you?”
He wasn’t sure how he had enough spit in his mouth to answer her. He almost didn’t recognize his harsh voice. It was a guttural rasp at best. “Hmm. You may be right, Tara. The more I think about it, the more I agree. That is exactly what I should do to you.” Yanking her up next to him, he reached for her hair. Ripping out the tie holding her ponytail in place, he freed the golden mass, then wound it over one hand and used it to jerk her head back, forcing her to look up at him. Seeing her shocked expression, he could only imagine what he looked like. As it was, he wasn’t sure he could contain the rage he was feeling, contorted as it was with pure, unadulterated lust. Murmuring softly against her ear, he managed to speak. “Yes, goddamn you, that is exactly what I am going to do. I’m going to strip off these expensive clothes, and like you more delicately suggested, I’m going to fuck your brains out.”
Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her over to one of the tall pines shading the top of the plateau. Laying her on the bed of pine needles, he ripped off her shirt, preparing to pillow it under her head. To his shock, he saw that she was wearing the cup-less red bra. As the creative designer could have only dreamed in his most erotic musings, her startlingly full breasts were surging through the empty lacy circles surrounding them, accentuating their fullness. As if the abundant flesh needed to be accentuated. He gazed at her soft pink nipples that were hardening into tight peaks. Looking down, he realized that he had to know if she’d also donned the red lace thong. Sure enough, before he got her skinny jeans over her slim hips, he saw the flash of red. With a hard groan, he stripped off her jeans, dragging them over her long, toned legs, taking her socks and sneakers with them. Stretching her out on the ground, he rose up on his knees and surveyed her. Fighting to contain the rush of testosterone flooding him, he promised himself he would be gentle. He wouldn’t attack her the way that his body was demanding. Unfortunately for his libido, at that moment, she slightly separated her knees, revealing her puffy labia. He would later blame the crotch-less panties, revealing her succulent pussy framed in fiery red lace, for sending his arousal into the stratosphere. And for taking her as wildly and unapologetically as he did.