Hearing the sharp rapping on her front door and Tanya’s voice calling out to her, Tara struggled to come back to reality. She admitted with a sigh that if anything was likely to bring her down to earth, it was her frowning little sister storming onto the deck, her eyes wide with intent. Even if she hadn’t been wearing the badge clipped to her belt, it was clear that Tanya was in deputy mode.
“Damn, Tara, that was you, wasn’t it?”
When Tara just frowned, not understanding, Tanya barreled onward. “God, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. If anyone knows how much you hate motorcycles, it’s me. But I literally did a one-eighty, getting ready to slap a ticket on that outrageous guy peeling down the highway a few dozen miles over the limit, when who did I see sitting on the back of that badass hog, clinging to that speed-demon driver? To my disbelief, I saw it was my sister. The sister who claimed that she would never ride on a motorcycle if it was the last thing she ever did. If that wasn’t enough, I realized that the demon driver was none other than Griffin Black. You know, Tara, the same Griffin Black that marched into the Bitter n’ Twisted and hauled your ass out of there as though it belonged to him.”
Tanya stopped mid-rant and studied her, then said with a low whistle, “And damn, big sis, if that look on your face is saying what I think it is, that badass may just have done that and then some.”
Tara did her best to give a nonchalant shrug but knew she’d failed when the irrepressible Tanya whistled again. “Don’t bother pretending, Tara. To put it nicely, you look like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet!”
“Uh, thanks, Tanya . . . Can I presume that is a compliment, not your way of telling me that I look like hell?”
“Oh, honey, hell ain’t the half of it. I can’t begin to tell you all the things I see in your eyes—and, I might add, on your body.”
At Tara’s surprised yelp, Tanya shook her head knowingly. “I can tell you, sis, if those love bites on your neck are an example of what is all over the rest of your body, it’s obvious you and I need to chat.”
When Tara couldn’t hold back a groan, Tanya went into deputy mode. “Okay, Tara, it’s clear you need some sister time. And, honey, given the look on your face and what I can surmise from the visible parts of your body, we need to grease our chat with the strongest booze I can find in your stock. So what if it’s only eleven o’clock in the morning? Hell, it’s five o’clock somewhere, right? And heck, what’s the worst that can happen? Dad or Tatiana might track us down, but so what? You know that whatever you tell me, they’ll know by the end of the day.”
By the time that she’d chugged a righteous glass of Jameson and didn’t object to Tanya pouring another, Tara had confessed enough of what had happened to her in the last couple of days that she decided to take a chance. She’d seen enough of the interactions between Tanya and her righteous FBI agent to surmise that Ryker Thompson might be as demanding a lover as Griffin. Struggling with how to say the words, she tried to mask what had happened in case Tanya had no idea of what she was talking about.
“Uh, Tanya, now that you know we weren’t exactly playing tiddlywinks these last two days, I’m wondering if maybe, you and Ryker . . . ” She stopped and then shook her head, knowing that she could never admit what she and Griffin had done, certainly not to her little sister.
At her hesitation, Tanya frowned. “Out with it, sis. You know that we can’t keep secrets from each other . . . or Tatiana. God, if that isn’t bad enough, somehow our father seems to know more about what we are doing than any father should know.”
Tara gave a quivery smile, thinking how true Tanya’s claim was. Although she and their father had a secret that neither of her sisters knew—and hopefully never would. She acknowledged with a start that Griffin did.
Tanya’s crisp question brought her out of her reverie and back to the conversation she’d initiated. She wished she hadn’t when Tanya said with an intent frown, “Have Ryker and I done what, Tara?” Glancing at the chair she was sitting on, Tara realized too late that she’d put the pillow that Griffin had given her as a joke on the lawn chair she was sitting on. Tanya’s eyes widened and she said with a low whistle, “Damn, if that pillow is as significant as it appears to be—at least if that’s what has turned your cheeks the brightest red I’ve ever seen, it appears that you have more than met your match.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I didn’t know there was another man in the world as powerful and frankly dominant as Ryker, but apparently, I was wrong.”
****
Tanya punched in his number and murmured into her cell, “Ryker, I’ve just spent the last hour and a half with my big sis.”
“She’s back? Great. I hope she’s okay.”
“Okay may not be the best word to describe her. As I told her, she looks like she’d been rode hard and put up wet.”
Ryker chuckled. “I guess that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, Tanya.”
“It’s more than that, Ryker. Black brought her home on the back of a souped-up Harley. You don’t understand. No one hates motorcycles as much as Tara does.”
“Hmm, as much as she hates robber baron developers?” At Tanya’s agreeing snort, Ryker added, “But, honey, it’s hardly a secret. Black is a powerful guy, not given to constraints.”
“You better believe it. And, Ryker, that’s not all. Are you ready for this? Uh, to put it nicely, he insisted that she have a soft pillow under her butt on their ride home. Need I say more?”
Ryker blew out a surprised whistle. “Damn, honey. It took me two whole weeks to take your ass and Black did Tara’s in two days? Christ, I never thought of myself as a slacker. But I gotta tell you, I’m not surprised. We Delta Force guys are hardcore. Dominant doesn’t begin to describe us. And, yeah, pushing the envelope in all areas of our lives is de rigueur for us D-boys. Sounds as though your sister found that out in every way possible.”
****
“I guess I don’t have to ask how your two-day sabbatical was, Griffin. I can’t remember when I’ve seen you more relaxed and frankly happy than you are now.”
Griffin shrugged and didn’t try to hide the grin curving his lips. “Apparently, I’m not as inscrutable as I’d like to think I am, Magnus. But since you’ve outed me and not only that, played a hell of a big role in making my ‘sabbatical,’ as extraordinary as it was, there’s no need for me to dissemble. In answer to your question, it was remarkable.”
Magnus laughed. “I gotta tell you, buddy, it would be hard to be anything less than extraordinary given that you were with one of the truly most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Not to mention the sexiest.”
When Griffin pressed his lips together and nodded in agreement, Magnus chortled. “C’mon, Griff, give it up. Not everything, as you know I have tender ears, but at least tell me if the fair maiden liked some of the supplies I laid in for you.”
“If you are asking whether the refrigerator full of specialties that would have made Dean and DeLuca’s proud, yes the food was fabulous. As were the wines and the booze. You definitely know how to spend my money, Magnus, and I’m glad as hell that you did. I wasn’t the only one who appreciated my consigliere—as my lovely guest called you.”
“Consigliere, huh? I like that. It has a certain mafia-like ring to it. At least it implies shadiness, or downright criminal activities. I guess it depends on what you did with the supplies I laid in.”
Griffin smiled. “I think you know me well enough to know that I never waste great food and high-end libations. And that’s when I’m with the ordinary women I get paired with.”
“Hmm, I dunno, Griffin, but the parade of supermodels who routinely inhabit your boudoir don’t exactly rank in what the rest of us poor souls would call ‘ordinary.’ ” Magnus shook his head. “Although I have to tell you, I agree. I don’t know when I’ve ever seen a more beautiful or sexier woman than the one who graced your bed these last two days.” At Griffin’s agreeing nod, Magnus added with a sly grin, “But enough of the gastronomical goodies I supplied. I want to know how my wardrobe selections went over.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Magnus, except that both of us appreciated the changes of clothes you supplied. After all, we were there for two days, and there wasn’t exactly time to do laundry.”
“Cut the crap, Griff. You know I don’t give a shit about whether she liked the Chloé bomber jacket or the Dsquared2 skinny jeans. I’m much more interested in her reaction to the apparel I supplied to go under those jeans and jacket. Specifically, the red lace ones.”
Griffin pretended not to understand. Moreover, he didn’t want to discuss the extraordinary lingerie with his nosy partner, but seeing the wolfish glint in Marcus’s eyes, he knew it was going to be a challenge to put him off. Sure enough, the next sentence leaving Magnus’s lips cut to the chase and then some.
“No, buddy, I ain’t talking about the outerwear. I’m specifically talking about that red lace bra and scanty panty set that was remarkable for what was missing rather than what it included. All I can say is that I sure as hell hope you snapped a picture. I’ve got an in at Hustler, and I’m confident they would be interested in seeing a blonde-haired potential centerfold dressed in a cup-less red lace bra and a crotch-less red lace thong.”
Griffin was spared from responding to his partner’s outrageous taunt by a gasp from the doorway. Whirling around in his chair, Griffin was surprised to see Jia Yanlin standing in the doorway. He almost chuckled. Hell, he’d seen forbidding thunderclouds that weren’t as ferocious as her scowl. As with thunderclouds, it was a given that lightning strikes were sure to follow. In fact, it only took Jia seconds to underscore how potent those strikes were likely to be.
With a smile that could have chipped ice, Jia said, “I hate to interrupt your ‘locker room boy-talk,’ Griffin, but I have several important things to discuss with you that came up while you were gone.”
Griffin straightened up in his chair, hoping against hope that Jia had only heard Magnus’s reference to the Chloé jacket and jeans, not the outrageous lingerie. More importantly, that she didn’t know that Tara was at the heart of their conversation. His wish was dashed against the shoals of her obvious pique when Jia said crisply, “I understood that you were in New York, Griffin, dealing with your children.”
“No. Jia, I wasn’t.” Rising from his chair, he pointed to the conference table and said crisply, “Please, both of you, join me. I’m interested in what happened when I was gone. I’m specifically interested to hear how Sledge Perkins responded to my latest and—I trust he knows—final offer for his land.”
Seeing Jia’s ramrod carriage as she strode to the table, Griffin winked at Magnus, whose eyes were sparkling with mischief. Breathing out a hard sigh, he prepared to turn back to the development project. It would be a challenge in that the image of Tara’s gorgeous backside and heady cries as he tunneled into her were much more compelling than the development. The project that a week ago he’d erroneously thought was the most important thing in his life.