Tara was astonished when they turned the corner on the driveway to the Debussy estate. There had to be twenty media vans and three times that many eager news people and camera men crowding the front lawn of the exclusive home. Tara snorted, remembering hearing that Black had commandeered the palatial property, apparently buying it outright from the estate of the now-dead former owners. Margaret Debussy, the daughter of one of the wealthy copper scions who were among the first of the state’s robber barons, had succumbed to cancer several years ago. When his wealthy wife died, Barrett Meier, the disgraced federal agent who’d married the heiress, managed to “out-thieve” even the copper barons. The former ICE agent had conceived a sweeping border corruption scheme, the scope of which put it in the annals of the most egregious crimes affecting Arizona. Fortunately, due to the bold undercover FBI agent Ryker Thompson and the help of her father and deputy sheriff sister, Thompson had brought the multi-million dollar scheme to a crashing halt. To the joy of the two older Trouble sisters and their sheriff father, Ryker Thompson had not only taken down the criminal mastermind but also captured their outrageous baby sister in the process.
Pushing her way through the melee, Tara found a spot to the side of the crowd where she had a view of the chaotic scene around her. The excitement among the media was palpable. She spotted several correspondents from Tucson and Phoenix whom she knew and sidled up next to them. Melody Martin, a stringer from the Arizona Republic, and Peter Graham, from the Arizona Daily Star in Tucson, turned to her eagerly.
Melody spoke first. “Damn, girl. I don’t believe it. Even when you don’t try, you get all the great Arizona scoops. We’re still trying to wrap up that crazy border corruption scheme that your father and that hot FBI stud brought down. Now you have none other than Griffin Black, the über-developer, landing on your home turf. It ain’t fair, Tara. You have more national news happening under your nose than we get in six months. But, girl, I gotta tell you, Griffin Gorgeous Black ranks right up there with that studly Ryker Thompson your baby sister shanghaied.”
Peter Graham chuckled. “I don’t know about what you ladies call the ‘stud scale,’ but even I know that Thompson and now Black rank right up there in the ‘studsphere.’ ” The astute reporter pinned a hard gaze on Tara. “Just wondering, sweetheart, given your views on development, how are you doing with the biggest development project in Arizona outside of the big cities? You gotta be chompin’ nails, sweet cakes.” When Tara just shrugged, Peter pressed, “C’mon, Tara, throw me a bone. How are the local folks responding to all of this excitement?”
“Are you referring to the fact that Black Enterprises somehow got a toehold on one of the most pristine pieces of land left in the state? An accomplishment that flies in the face of every effort we’ve mounted to maintain our natural resources? That not only did they steamroll our pathetic local city fathers but apparently have at least preliminary approval at the state and federal level? How do you think we are responding? Not surprisingly, Mayor Watcher and his sycophantic followers are creaming their jeans with excitement. They are practically humping anyone associated with the carpetbagger’s entourage. Those of us who care about our dwindling natural resources and want to preserve them are, shall we say, less than enthusiastic.”
“I don’t know about you, Tara, but I’m not above creaming my jeans to get a little closer to that righteous hunk!”
Looking up where Melody was pointing, Tara saw Griffin Black walk through the fifteen-foot, heavily carved oak doors to the Debussy mansion followed by no less than a dozen of what had to be his minions. The only person she recognized was Magnus Armstrong from their aborted meeting yesterday. When the group arranged themselves around their leader, it was apparent that the Black team was split evenly between men and women. It was also apparent that every distaff member of the group met a rarified pulchritude standard. In a word, the women were stunning. And young.
Standing next to Black was one of the most gorgeous Asian women Tara had ever seen. Exquisite was the only way to describe the slender, dark-haired beauty. Tara knew from her preliminary research that Black was divorced. From the looks of the cadre of attractive young women surrounding him, it was clear that the reprobate was enjoying his unmarried status. Only from pouring over the fashion magazines that she and Tatiana loved did Tara know that the Dolce and Gabbana turquoise pantsuit and strappy sandals the Japanese princess was wearing had set her boss—and likely lover—back at least five thousand dollars. Gazing at the array of sophisticated, wealthy interlopers, Tara shoved at the gorge rising in her throat. Who the fuck did these people think they were? That they could parade into their small town and sneer at the locals from their elevated perch?
Allowing herself to focus on the tall man anchoring the impressive group, Tara acknowledged the makeup of his team wasn’t surprising. Given their leader, how could they be anything but gorgeous and sophisticated? Tara realized that at the Whispering Pines, she’d been so intent on getting him to answer her hostile questions that she hadn’t had a chance to truly scope out the robber baron himself. From the dozens of articles she’d read, she’d known he was good looking. But until she saw him standing in front of the awed crowd, she hadn’t allowed herself to see the totality of the man.
Black was at least six foot three or more inches tall. His fitted, creased trousers and open-collared black and gray striped shirt emphasized his lean muscular body. Along with what looked like a pair of Gucci leather boots, his casually expensive attire spoke to a fashion sense rarely seen in their blue-jeans-and-plaid-shirts Southwestern town. As knowledgeable about men’s fashion as she was women’s from her exhaustive study of Maxim, GQ, and Men’s Fitness, Tara acknowledged that the man who was seemingly determined to turn her already chaotic life upside down could have graced the cover of any of the magazines she’d poured over.
It didn’t help that his fashion sense wasn’t the only disturbing element of his impressive persona. A crop of dark hair with compelling streaks of gray at the temples hung carelessly over his forehead in a faux-careless manner that had likely cost hundreds of dollars to achieve. A light dusting of beard shadow accentuated his high cheekbones and firm jaw. His sensuous mouth and incongruous grin spoke to a confident masculinity that was frankly intriguing. But it was his eyes that captured her. Dark, arched brows and sinfully thick eyelashes made his emerald eyes even more compelling than the startling color. All in all, Tara thought with a silent groan, her nemesis might just be one of the best-looking men she’d ever seen.
Clearly, she wasn’t the only member of the eager crowd who was impressed with the man who opened the press conference with an impudent grin and provocative challenge to the assembled media. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. May I assume that life in Sierra Vista is quieter than the big cities I’m forced to visit, and you’re looking for some excitement—or perhaps you’re looking for an opportunity to tackle an outsider intent on invading your beautiful county.” Allowing the good-natured laughter to settle, Griffin put up his hands in pseudo-acquiescence and said with a grin, “In either case, ladies and gentlemen, have at it. I’m at your mercy.”
For the next ten minutes, the skilled raconteur answered questions from the assembled media that ranged from informed queries regarding his prospective development to how he was going to keep his decidedly forward-looking haircut as stylish as it was. Tara wasn’t surprised that the “hairdo” question came from one of the local television anchors known for her willingness to get up close and personal with the wealthier men in town. Deciding that she’d heard enough from her fawning peers and feeling more than a little frustrated at Black’s ability to control the interview so skillfully, Tara decided to enter the fray.
Stepping forward, she asked in a clear voice, “Mr. Black, I asked you a question yesterday that you chose not to answer, so let me ask it again. Why did you decide to come to Cochise County to build your development? Did you run out of pristine land to rape in Colorado?”
The startled murmurs from her peers didn’t surprise Tara nor was she put off by them. She was determined to take on this reprobate no matter how skilled he was at controlling the discussion.
She wasn’t surprised when Mayor Watcher stepped forward and said with a strained smile, “Now, now, Tara, give our guest a chance to settle in before you try to take him down. As much as you like to make headlines, we wouldn’t want him to think that all of our news folks are as biased as you are.”
Before Black could answer, Tara addressed the aggrieved mayor, “I’m not interested in taking Mr. Black down, Mayor Watcher. I’m merely trying to stop him from raping our beautiful county the way that he has done with his misbegotten projects throughout the country. As for my bias, you are absolutely right. I am biased and determined to fight for our pristine land even though you and your subservient city council yes-men are apparently willing to sell it to the highest, or in Mr. Black’s case, the lowest bidder.”
When the mayor’s face flushed an unhealthy shade of mauve and he surged through the gaping crowd toward her, Black put up his hand, stopping him.
“Thank you for your concern, Mayor Watcher, but I’m pleased to answer Ms. Trouble’s question—as off base and insulting as it is.” He added with a tight smile, “I must say, madam, I’m impressed with your vocabulary. I haven’t heard the term misbegotten since my snobbish tailor indicated that my favorite purple shirt was a misbegotten horror and I should send it to the trash bin. I admit that while I still wear the shirt, I no longer pair it with the truly misbegotten pair of pink trousers that did end up in the trash.”
At the hoots of laughter and some applause from the charmed crowd, Black pinned a narrowed gaze on Tara and waited until the audience settled. “Not to put too fine a point on it, I couldn’t disagree more with your premise, Ms. Trouble. I am inordinately proud of the innovative developments I’ve created throughout the country. In virtually all cases, I took undeveloped land, often owned by wealthy individuals, and created residential and commercial developments that drastically raised the value of the land and dramatically changed the lives of the people who lived there.”
Before he could continue, Tara broke in. “Is that how you view the pristine tribal lands that you ravaged to build commercial projects that corrupted their land and the very soul of their culture?”
Black raised his chin and said disparagingly, “Again, I applaud your linguistic skills if not the accuracy of your research. And while I’m confident you and I could find things to disagree about for hours, if not days, I presume some of your colleagues have questions they’d like me to answer.” Apparently not quite ready to cede the floor, he added, “As to your misbegotten assertions about my treatment of tribal lands, my assistants will be pleased to give you the names of tribal leaders throughout the West who are grateful fans of my projects. Indeed, leaders who insist that the projects have radically changed their tribe’s lives for the better.” Nodding to the Asian woman beside him, he said, “My associate, Jia Yanlin, will provide you with their names and contact information.”
Making it clear that he was done with her, Black turned to the group at large. “I have time for a few more questions, ladies and gentlemen. Know that if time permits, I’m also willing to schedule in-depth interviews and conversations.” A wry smile took over his expression and he said with an unrepentant wink, “I might even be willing to sit down with the impressive editor of the Sierra Vista Gazette as long as I’m outfitted with my trustiest athletic supporter and perhaps a suit or two of armor.”
In the hoots of laughter and applause from her clearly besotted peers, Tara admitted that she’d been bested by a master. It was all the more unsettling in that he’d taken her down in an arena where she usually prevailed. Making an effort to leave as unobtrusively as possible, she was surprised when the man she knew was Black’s attorney approached her as she headed for her car.
“Excuse me, Ms. Trouble. My name is Magnus Armstrong. I’m Mr. Black’s attorney and partner. I’m sorry if my boss came off as a little high-handed. But like you, he has strong opinions, particularly regarding his work. Do know that I’m pleased to answer any questions you have. Perhaps I can buy you a drink—”
Tara interrupted him. “But of course. If your master is afraid to meet with me, why wouldn’t I be pleased to meet with one of his yes-men?”
Armstrong laughed. “That’s not how I view myself, nor would I say that Mr. Black would be afraid to meet with you. Indeed, I can’t remember when that adjective was ever used to describe Griffin. Just know that he admires strong women and enjoys discussing important issues with them. Although, when possible, he prefers to avoid controversy.”
Tara laughed aloud at the suave man’s ridiculous contentions. Turning up her nose, she said with a sneer, “I just bet that Mr. Black likes strong women as long as they came in pairs and are flat on their backs or, better yet, on their knees.” At Armstrong’s surprised start, she added, “You might want to tell your boss that in southern Arizona, small-town women judge men by the size of their balls, not by how expensive their clothes are or how many women they have in their harem.”
Striding to her car, Tara didn’t bother to look back at the dumbfounded man staring after her. Certain that he was surprised at her untoward and tasteless assertions, she had a strong suspicion that his boss would be less than amused by her ballsy contentions. Indeed, she was certain that he would find her as unappealing and crude as his obvious paramour, Jia Yanlin, was beautiful and sophisticated. A fact Tara wished didn’t gnaw at her as much as it did.