Silken Threads by Monica Barrie Page B

beneath her moved at a swift pace.
    She remembered her father’s proud look, and then—“Stop!” she shouted, wrapping her arms around herself to keep from shaking, and to will an end to the memory.
    Thankfully Cassandra was able to divert her thoughts away from the past, rescued from the horror by thinking about something no less dangerous but far less frightening—Kirk North.
    When she had gone into the meeting with her father and Kirk, she had known Kirk was not just a cowboy, a fact she had chosen to disregard in making her first power play. She had read his personnel file. Kirk North was a well-educated man who had graduated in the upper ten percent of his class at the University of Arizona. She had been surprised, too, to learn that Kirk had earned three medals during his service in the Army.
    No, Cassandra realized, Kirk North was no cowboy. At last, Cassandra’s tired and warring mind could fight no longer, and a few moments later, she fell into a light but troubled sleep.
     

Chapter Five
     
    Cassandra stifled the yawn and gazed from the corner of her eye at the handsome man seated next to her. They had been together for five and a half hours, and in all, he’d spoken to her three times.
    She sensed his dislike of her, tried to accept it, but could not. She had apologized to him yesterday and had been determined to make this work. Having belatedly realized one very important fact, she knew if she were to succeed in her quest for freedom and self-validation, Kirk North would play a major role. Without him and his knowledge, she would never be able to do her job.
    His antagonism had flared as soon as she’d gotten out of the limousine at the airport. It wasn’t just his antagonism, there was ‘something else’ about him. As it happened yesterday, her entire being had reacted to him, and she’d forced herself to remain poised, her emotions hidden.
    No sooner had the chauffeur begun to take her bags from the trunk than she’d seen his amused smile. “Have you ever lived on a ranch?” he’d asked.
    “ No.”
    “ There isn’t much call for a large wardrobe,” he’d told her, his eyes sweeping over the abundance of her luggage.
    “ Mr. North, I haven’t brought a large wardrobe,” she’d responded in icy tones.
    “ Yes, ma’am,” he’d said without losing his infuriating grin.
    The next time they’d talked was when they’d boarded the plane. In the aisle, Kirk had nodded his head and offered her the window seat.
    “ How gallant,” she’d said. Only she hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud, just to herself.
    “ Not really,” Kirk had responded, “I need the aisle to stretch my legs.”
    Nonplussed, Cassandra refused to look at him as she went to her seat. But as she tried to hide her embarrassment, a different type of warmth rose in her cheeks, sped on its way by the simple action of his hand touching the bare skin of her elbow, guiding her to her seat. With his touch had come a tingling, which, a half a heartbeat later, had engulfed her body.
    She tried but could not control her reaction to that lightest of touches.
    Thankfully, for Cassandra, the plane had taken off on schedule and breakfast served. Breakfast, as everything else had been since she’d gotten to the airport, was a silent affair with the silence continuing long after the food trays had been removed, and Kirk had opened the New York Times.
    Two hours into the flight, Cassandra had broken the silence Kirk had imposed. “Could we talk?” she’d asked. She’d had to wait a full minute for his reply.
    “About?”
    “Our situation.”
    “Go ahead.”
    Cassandra had wanted to scream. For the two hours she’d been sitting next to him, the aura surrounding him like an all-encompassing umbrella had grated unmercifully on her nerves. Yet Kirk had seemed oblivious of her presence.
    “I realize you don’t like me,” she’d begun, but he cut her off.
    “You’re supposed to be my new boss, Miss Leeds, not a mind