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by Barrie, Monica


  “You could always run away, start a new life somewhere,” he suggested. Yet as he spoke, he found himself hoping she wouldn’t take him seriously.

  “I can’t run away from myself,” she stated. Once again, Kirk saw a break in her facade; saw a hint of determination. Kirk found himself wanting to believe her; but he wasn’t any more sure of Gregory Leeds than he was of his daughter.

  Making himself try to see the truth lurking within her hazel-green eyes, Kirk knew he would do his best to find a way to win. It was chancy, at best he admitted. “Do you love him?” he asked in a husky voice.

  “Somner?” Cassandra asked. “No. At one time, there was something but not anymore. Especially after yesterday.”

  In the silence that followed her reply, Kirk could not help thinking just how complicated Cassandra Leeds had suddenly shown herself to be. Surprisingly he found himself happy with that. The only dark shadow in his mind was the combination of Gregory Leeds and Somner Barwell.

  The lights of the lounge flickered twice, and the trio’s singer spoke into the microphone. “Last call, cowboys. Last dance, too,” she said as the trio began to play a slow, melodious love song.

  “I didn’t realize how late it was,” Cassandra said without taking her gaze from him.

  “Dance?” he asked.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she replied, saying the very thing she knew she shouldn’t.

  Kirk led her to the dance floor, conscious of the many eyes following them, but uncaring at the same time. He didn’t know why he’d asked her to dance; in fact, he was more than positive he shouldn’t have. However, seeing her in the low light of the lounge, her moist lips looking soft and pliant, had made him ask her.

  On the dance floor, he took her in his arms and held her gently. Through the few short inches separating them, the heat of her body burned at him as if he wore no clothes.

  Cassandra followed his lead, bending gracefully with his movements, luxuriating within the strength of his arms, and never once wondering why she was there.

  The music was so different it accented the strangeness of her own perceptions. She gazed deeply into his eyes, and found herself drawn within them. This time, when his hand had grasped hers, and his other hand had gone around her waist, no leaping flames had scorched her body; only a gentle warmth ebbed and flowed within her.

  When Kirk turned them gracefully on the dance floor, another couple bumped into them, pushing Cassandra into Kirk’s muscular chest. She gasped when hit his powerful torso, thankful for the excuse of another for her reaction.

  “Are you all right?”

  Cassandra couldn’t speak. She just nodded. As Kirk looked down at her from his incredible height, she did not pull away. Instead, she let herself flow with the music and the wonderful sensations invading her body and mind. It was as if she was in another time, another world. It was a mystical moment, a rare instance of peace, given to her when there should only have been doubt, confusion, and fear.

  Every second passing within Kirk’s strong arms was like magic, but, like magic, she knew the illusion would disappear the moment the music ended. Reality would have to become, once again, the rule of the night.

  Kirk’s arms had tightened reflexively around her, while his eyes swept across her face. When he was sure she was all right, he reluctantly loosened his hold, trying his best to ignore the fiery sensations her softly curved body was generating upon his.

  When she did not pull back, Kirk was not sorry. He bent his head and caught the clinging scent of her perfume, mixed within the clean freshness of her hair.

  Suddenly Kirk found himself in a battle with his emotions, fighting hard to hold back from kissing her the way his senses demanded.

  He moved with the music, guiding Cassandra’s subtly swaying body, caring not what the future might bring, content only for the present. Kirk knew that with their arrival at the ranch, their already changing roles must once again change.

  She is the boss’s daughter, he reminded himself again.

  When the music ended, Cassandra reluctantly stepped back. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Thank you,” Kirk replied. Silently, for neither of them was willing to break the soft mood enveloping them, they left the Cow Palace and returned to the motel. At their doors, they faced each other, and Cassandra sensed the tension swelling around them like a volcano about to erupt.

  “I had a lovely time tonight. Thank you, Kirk.” He gazed steadily at her until she thought she would scream. Her eyes continually swept the planes of his face, drinking in his rugged good looks. She saw his eyes doing the same, and for a fleeting and hopeful second, she thought he would kiss her.

  He didn’t kiss her. Instead, Kirk stepped back. “You’re welcome, Cassandra. I’ll leave a wake-up call for eight. After breakfast, we’ll fly home.”

  Cassandra nodded, hiding her disappointment, yet not certain that she had really wanted him to kiss her. The most curious thing of all, she thought as she opened her door, was the way he’d said home, had tugged strangely at her heart.

  ~~~~

  An hour later Kirk was still unable to sleep. Sitting in a club chair by the window, he looked out into the night. His mind was a rolling symphony of discordant thoughts as he tried to settle his emotions and the startling reactions during the evening with Cassandra.

  He remembered the few moments before she’d gone into her room. He had wanted to take her in his arms, press her tightly to him, and kiss her inviting lips. He hadn’t. Instead, he’d tightened an iron will of control on his emotions.

  When she’d spoken about her “deal” with her father, Kirk had almost lost his temper, but held himself back when he’d realized once again, Cassandra and Gregory Leeds lived in a different world. Still, Kirk had not been able to help wondering just what kind of game Gregory Leeds was playing.

  Apparently Cassandra Leeds had no idea her father had told Kirk she was to be only a figurehead. However, Kirk knew Cassandra intended to try to run Twin Rivers.

  That was not his only concern. The man he had stopped from manhandling her was another. He had heard the ugly tone of Somner Barwell’s voice and had seen the hard, dangerous glint in the man’s eyes when he’d forced Barwell’s hands from Cassandra.

  He didn’t want that man to possess Cassandra Leeds no matter what. Why? he asked himself. Kirk knew the answer but refused to hear it. She’s not for him is what he tried to make himself believe.

  In that moment, Kirk promised himself that he would help her if she really meant what she’d said to him. The only thing that bothered him now, was the answer to a new question: Was she determined to do what she said, or was she seducing him into a rich person’s game?

  Chapter Seven

  Because of severe thunderstorms over the Rockies, they did not leave Wyoming as early as planned. They sat in the airport’s small pilots’ lounge for three hours, before they being cleared for takeoff. The mood of last night still clung to them, yet each was wary of saying too much.

  The flight was a smooth one and Cassandra, still somewhat tired from the very long day, fell asleep. Kirk let her sleep, happy for the time he had to organize his thoughts before reaching the ranch.

  For Kirk, the evening had been a revelation of sorts. He’d gotten several glimpses of the Cassandra Leeds behind the mask. Just before he fell asleep, he discovered he very much liked that Cassandra Leeds.

  He wondered if the mask, and everything that went with it, would return when they were at the ranch. Then he refused to pursue those kinds of questions. He would just have to wait and see how Cassandra Leeds would prove herself.

  While he flew the plane, he occasionally glanced at Cassandra’s peacefully sleeping face, studying it intently until every line and feature became etched in his mind.

  Kirk flew above the clouds, but when he neared the ranch, he descended in a slow, steady line. Breaking through the clouds, he smiled at the familiar terrain below.

  “Cassandra,” he called in a g
entle voice.

  Cassandra heard her name called from a great distance and struggled from sleep to reality. Opening her eyes, she glanced at Kirk.

  “Have a good sleep?” he asked.

  “Sorry,” she said as she sat straighter. “I didn’t mean to doze off.”

  “Flying in clouds is boring; you did the right thing,” he told her. “We’re here.”

  “Here?” Cassandra asked, stretching her cramped muscles.

  “Twin Rivers.”

  Cassandra looked down and her breath caught. Beneath her, extending for miles, were rolling hills and deep valleys. There were mountains in every direction she looked. At first glance, they appeared to be harsh and barren, but their reddish-brown color was striking and bold.

  “Beautiful,” she whispered.

  “It is,” Kirk agreed. “Look to your right.”

  There she saw a more level area than what had been below her moments before. She studied the terrain, trying to see what Kirk wanted her to. A minute later, she saw thousands of dark dots.

  “That’s one of our herds,” he said.

  “So many,” she whispered as she tried to find the edge of the herd.

  “Not really; they’re spread out. About twenty-thousand head.”

  “That’s a lot.”

  “Not enough. Beef prices are still down. I hope that they’ll go up soon. The market trend seems to be pointing that way. But,” he said, pausing to look at her, “we’ll talk business tomorrow. Right now is your first tour of the ranch.”

  Kirk banked the plane and the herd of cattle disappeared. Ten minutes later, he was flying over a two-lane road. “This is the western border of the property. It extends for eleven miles.”

  Watching silently, Cassandra began to understand just how large a hundred-and-twenty-thousand acres of ranch was. They were flying no more than five-hundred feet above the ground, and Cassandra could see everything.

  “Look to your right,” Kirk said. When Cassandra turned, he continued to speak. “The main house is the one with the red-tile roof—Spanish tile—the ranch’s offices are on the main level. On the second floor are bedroom suites for visiting businessmen, or Leeds Corporation people. You’ll be living in one of them.”

  Cassandra was impressed by the size of the house, and by the sprawling layout of all the buildings. Twin Rivers was a far cry from the ranch in Wyoming. Off to one side of the house was a road running on for as far as she could see. It seemed to be a dividing line of some sort. To the right was the main house. Separated from it by a large lawn, was a smaller house with the same Spanish-tiled roof. A little farther on was yet another small house. Behind those structures, at a good distance, were four long narrow buildings.

  From one of the long buildings, a trail of smoke rose into the air, dissipating a hundred feet up. Kirk flew over the buildings, banked the plane, and circled.

  “The second house is where I live. The buildings behind it are the bunkhouses and the dining hall. The staff is getting supper ready now.”

  Farther away was a blacktop landing strip, complete with two gas pumps. Finishing the circle, Kirk straightened the plane and flew across the dividing road. Beneath them, Cassandra saw a whole new set of buildings. Several barns, a huge silo, and three long stables were the first. Then she saw the corrals, and the horses within them.

  “The stables hold a hundred and fifteen horses; all the workhorses for the ranch. Over there,” he said, pointing to another series of buildings, “are the breeding pens.”

  Cassandra had determined the moment she’d boarded the plane to keep her emotions in check. Although the fear rose with every reference to horses, she did not let it show on her rigid features. Yet she could not talk, either.

  For the next twenty-five minutes, Cassandra sat quietly while Kirk gave her a bird’s-eye view of where she would be living and working for the next twelve months.

  By the end of the tour, Cassandra’s fear had vanished, replaced by a sense of awed beauty. As they flew, the clouds finally dissolved, and the jewel-like blueness of the Arizona sky appeared. The sun, near the edge of the horizon, glowed warmly, lighting everything with soft shades of pale gold, and Cassandra fell in love with the land beneath her.

  They passed over a second herd, which was as large as the first, and then Kirk flew toward a hilly ridge she soon discovered was the edge of a narrow valley. In the valley was a sight that held her in thrall for several long seconds, until again, Cassandra forced herself to control her fears. Beneath them, roaming freely, was the herd of Appaloosa horses. After her initial shock at seeing them, Cassandra relaxed a bit. It wasn’t too bad from the air, she told herself.

  At the northern edge of the property, Kirk banked the plane in a lazy downward spiral, coming within a hundred feet of the foothills. “There’s a special place I want you to see. Watch carefully; it’s coming up now.”

  Cassandra held her breath as they skimmed the hilltops. Then her exhale sounded loudly within the cabin. Without warning, a magnificent waterfall appeared before her eyes. A narrow band of water cascaded from an opening a few feet below a jagged cliff, spraying outward in a foaming array of colors that struck several rocky ledges before reaching the pool at its base.

  “It’s not much of a tourist attraction, but it’s ours,” Kirk said.

  “It’s…” Cassandra began, searching for the right word, “perfect.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  On the way back to the airstrip, Kirk flew over several plowed fields. “We try to grow as much feed of our own as possible. It helps save money.”

  Before they landed, Kirk had taken a little side trip and flown closer to Phoenix to show Cassandra the outskirts of the city.

  With dusk growing thick in the air, they returned to the ranch. Just before they landed, Kirk spoke again. “I think it would be a good idea for you to acclimate yourself to the ranch. For the next few days, I’ll take you around and show you every part of the operation.”

  “Sounds good,” she said.

  “When you get familiar with the workings of the ranch, we can sit down and find a way to make more money with what we have. All right?” he asked, his gaze flickering between her face and the upcoming landing strip.

  “Fine,” she said. Things were going much better than she’d thought possible, following the terrible beginning with Kirk. Cassandra also realized, as Kirk landed the plane smoothly, there had not been one moment of tension, anger, or sarcasm throughout the entire day.

  They unloaded Cassandra’s five suitcases and piled them into a Land Rover with the Twin Rivers logo on its doors, and Kirk started to drive toward the buildings. He did not go to the main house however, but went instead to the dining hall, which was empty except for the cook.

  “Lucy, this is Miss Cassandra Leeds. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

  “Pleased to meet ya,” Lucy replied with a smile and a nod.

  “Lucy is the person who keeps us going,” Kirk said in a soft voice. “She’s the ranch’s cook, and the best in Arizona.”

  “He says so because he’s afraid I’ll ask for a raise,” Lucy stated, yet her smile of pleasure negated her words.

  “Lucy, we’re starving,” Kirk admitted.

  Even as he spoke, Cassandra felt and heard her stomach rumble at the mention of food, and the gurgling sound reached the others’ ears. Cassandra turned red. “I think ya’ll made your point,” Lucy said jokingly. “Sit while I get you some supper.”

  Five minutes later Lucy brought two plates heaped with food and placed them before Kirk and Cassandra. Cassandra looked at her plate, her eyes questioning its contents.

  “Stew,” Kirk said as he picked up his fork and began to eat. Tentatively Cassandra lifted up a small piece of meat and tasted it. She was pleasantly surprised at the rich taste of the stew.

  “It don’t look like much, but your stomach doesn’t have eyes,” Lucy commented sagely as she set down a tray with coffee cups on it.

  After giving K
irk and Cassandra their coffee, she stepped back. “I best get back to work. Nice meeting you, Miss Cassandra.”

  “She seems nice,” Cassandra commented after Lucy went into the kitchen.

  “As long as you stay on her good side, otherwise…” he said with a patently false smile of warning.

  “She’s a good cook.”

  “As I said, the best in Arizona.”

  They finished their meal in a warm silence, and afterward Kirk drove Cassandra to the main house and brought her up to her suite.

  At the door, Kirk looked into Cassandra’s eyes. She gazed up at him, her heart beating fast as she drank in his handsome face.

  “If you’d like,” Kirk said a moment later, “you can join us in the dining hall for breakfast. We eat at five, and the men are out and working by six.”

  “Five…the sun’s not even up that early,” she joked, but saw no humorous response in Kirk’s well-chiseled features.

  “If you prefer eating alone, your kitchen has been well stocked. Either way, we’ll start your tour of Twin Rivers tomorrow at six.”

  “I never have more than coffee in the morning. I’ll be ready,” Cassandra promised.

  From the time Kirk had helped bring her luggage up until he left, Cassandra had paid no real attention to her new home. With Kirk’s footsteps echoing on the stairs, Cassandra turned and looked around.

  The suite was almost Spartan in its decoration, yet it had a homey flavor that made her feel very comfortable. The suite consisted of a living room, bedroom, study, bath and kitchen, all decorated in a style she could only describe as “western conservative.” Thick wood beams ran along the ceiling and Oriental carpets in each room added a touch of authority to the wood and leather furniture.

  When she finished her inspection, Cassandra quickly and efficiently put all her possessions away and, stifling a yawn, took a long, relaxing shower, after which she went into her new bedroom and got ready for sleep.

  Yawning again, Cassandra realized how tired she was. “Country air,” she told herself as she lay down and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

  ~~~~

 

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