Silken Threads

by Barrie, Monica

  She stayed like that for several minutes, running her fingers up and down the animal’s face, until at last her trembling body quieted.

  Then her breath caught again as the horse’s head moved. Then, she realized the horse was merely moving its head in rhythm with her hand, and a nervous giggle broke free. She had survived her first test.

  “You like that, don’t you?” she asked the horse. The animal took another step forward and Cassandra froze but forced herself to stand firm. The horse snickered loudly and bobbed its head several times.

  Cassandra did not take her hand away, nor did she acknowledge the silent tears falling from her eyes. “I did it,” she whispered to the spotted horse. “You helped me do it,” she told him as she continued to stroke him with her now-steady hand.

  Cassandra didn’t wonder about the horse’s strange behavior. Nor did she think about why it stood so patiently before her. Her only thoughts were that she’d broken down the first barrier and that would let her take another hesitant step forward.

  She stayed there, petting the horse for another five minutes before stepping back and wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. She smiled at the horse, who still watched her, and then turned, her breathing light and natural once again.

  ~~~~

  Kirk had been sitting on his porch thinking about the earlier scene with Cassandra, replaying it repeatedly in his mind, and trying to deny Jane’s accusations. Although he still felt justified in his anger toward her, he wondered, as he had in Wyoming, if he was acting out of self-disappointment once again.

  Before he could reach a conclusion, he’d seen Cassandra walk between his house and the main house and held his breath as he watched her. He wondered where she was going but did not follow her.

  As he tried to think about her in an objective way, his mind grew clouded again as desire and emotions fought with common sense. Her beauty engulfed him, teased him, and haunted him, even as his ever-logical mind refused to be lulled by these visions.

  Suddenly he could no longer keep his private battle inside and stood, staring at the spot where Cassandra had disappeared. He left the porch and followed her and just as he reached the road, he saw her walking toward him.

  He knew she hadn’t seen him: her gaze was on the ground before her. He waited until she was almost on top of him.

  “Why?” he asked, breaking the silence of the night.

  Cassandra jumped, her heart thumping at the unexpected voice. She raised her head and found herself staring at Kirk.

  “Excuse me,” she said, again hiding behind her protective coolness.

  “Why are you here? You don’t like it here, you don’t belong here!”

  Cassandra shook her head slowly but did not take her eyes from his. “I told you why. I have to be here.”

  “Really? Isn’t the truth simply that your father wants you out of his hair?”

  Cassandra’s anger surged, but she held it back, aided by the small victory she had just won in the battle for her life. “In a way you’re right,” she said. Then she looked past him and started away.

  She was conscious he was following her but acted as if she were alone. Finally, she felt his hands grasp her arm and spin her around.

  She stared at him, keeping her face blank.

  “Do you know what you’re doing to me? To the ranch?” His hand was tight but he was not hurting her.

  Once again, with his anger plainly written on his face, the burning power of his touch invaded her body and thoughts. His words, too, had a strange and puzzling effect, and her barrier of cold aloofness began to crack.

  “Kirk ... I ... I know you don’t approve of people like me—and you don’t like me. But I have a job I have to do.”

  “Don’t presume to know what I like or dislike,” he snapped, his eyes piercing.

  “You didn’t have any trouble telling me what you thought of me today, damn you!” Cassandra retorted as she stared defiantly at him.

  A tense silence filled the air between them and as it grew thicker Cassandra felt his heady masculine aura begin to envelop her. Her lips were dry, and she flicked the tip of her tongue across her lips to moisten them.

  “Why do you hate me?” she whispered when she could no longer stand the silence.

  Kirk watched the way her tongue darted across her lips and saw the sorrow that filled her eyes.

  “I don’t hate you, Cassandra,” he said, “which is my problem.” He released her arm but did not step away.

  Their eyes met again, and both Cassandra and Kirk understood what they’d said, and what they had not. Then Kirk, his eyes sweeping across Cassandra’s face, took a single step and closed the distance between them. Even as he moved, Cassandra did, too. Their arms wound around each other at the same instant in time. Their mouths met, and their tongues entwined in a dance of welcome that left them shaken and holding each other tightly for support.

  Chapter Nine

  Cassandra didn’t know how it happened but from the instant their lips met, her world became a whirlwind dream lifting her from where she was and brought her to where she wanted to be—in Kirk North’s strong arms.

  The kiss lasted an eternity, and when it ended and she was breathing again, she gazed into his soft brown eyes and knew she could not fight any longer. Her heart had finally overruled her mind and taken charge of her actions.

  Miraculously, she could see by Kirk’s face, the same was happening to him. Their mouths joined again, and Cassandra’s heart raced madly. Deep within her, a fire rose, consuming her with its intensity and freeing the very thoughts and hopes she had been holding behind locked doors. From the moment she’d looked into his face, she knew the truth. She had fallen in love with Kirk North.

  After drawing his lips from her soft, molten mouth, Kirk’s mind spun dangerously. He hadn’t planned on this meeting. He knew it shouldn’t continue. He tried to stop. He failed. His passions, so tightly controlled since he’d met her, broke free to race wildly through his body.

  “Cassandra... we can’t…” he began, even as he lowered his mouth to hers and tasted the warmth of her being.

  “We can’t fight anymore,” Cassandra whispered, as the fire of his kiss burned within her breasts.

  Again, unable to help themselves, they kissed deeply and passionately. When the kiss ended and their lips parted, they walked away—not in different directions, but together toward Kirk’s house and the soft yellow beckoning light of the doorway.

  The world was a hazy collage of indistinct shapes by the time they reached the porch. When Kirk paused upon the wooden slats, Cassandra sensed his hesitation and lifted her head to look at him. She saw that his eyes asked the question his lips did not form. She answered him with the lightest of pressure from her hand on his.

  Stopping inside the front door, Kirk turned Cassandra to face him. As he stared at her his chest grew tighter, and his desire rose swiftly, yet he knew he must enforce some self-control. “Cassandra…I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. But …” he began.

  Cassandra feared that if they talked, her own heart would be robbed, and the love, which had finally burst forth, would become a wasted and futile longing within her. Alongside her worrisome thoughts came another fleeting, chilling question. Did he feel the same as she? Cassandra prayed that he did.

  Her trembling fingers flew to his lips, sealing them against his next words. “No explanations, no excuses.” She wanted to tell him how she felt, but she didn’t. Instead, she rose up on her toes and kissed him deeply.

  The kiss became an explosion without end. His arms went around her, drawing her close to his massive chest. Her breasts crushed against him, her thighs melting against his own muscular ones, and his firm lean stomach was a burning fire next to hers.

  Her breath escaped in a low stream when he drew back, while her hands tightened around his back, refusing to allow him escape.

  “I want you, Cassandra,” he whispered, his voice husky and deep.

  “As I wan
t you,” she told him truthfully.

  With a sudden and breathtaking swiftness, Kirk lifted her from the floor and carried her toward their destiny. Kirk walked slowly through the living room and stepped into the bedroom. No lights were on, but through a skylight in the ceiling came a silver beam of moonlight that filled the room with a gentle glow.

  Kirk released her, and Cassandra slid along his length until she was standing on her feet again. Gazing at his face, she saw the intensity of his emotions. Then he bent, and his lips met hers in another explosive, unbearably beautiful kiss.

  When they parted, their chests rose and fell in unison. Electricity crackled in the air as their world shrank until all that was in it was each other. Then Kirk reached for her and slowly began to unbutton her shirt.

  With his touch, time came to a halt for Cassandra. In a kaleidoscopic flurry of desire, need, she and Kirk undressed each other, caressing and kissing as they did. Without remembering how it happened, Cassandra was lying on the bed, looking up at Kirk, framed within the silver glow from the skylight.

  His mouth crushed hers, and everything fled from her thoughts, except for the powerful man who held her in his arms.

  They kissed for endless minutes, their hands slowly exploring each other. Cassandra luxuriated in the feel of Kirk’s strong hands, giving herself up to him even as she learned about his lean magnificent body.

  When he drew back from her, she cried out at her loss. Then, his mouth returned to gently kiss the sensitive skin of her neck, even as his hands caressed her full breasts. Soon his mouth followed his hands, and pinpricks of desire rippled across her in maddening waves as Kirk lavished her with his lips, hands, and body.

  Cassandra’s blood turned to lava; her desires surged upward. She found herself on the edge of an abyss, about to fall in, when Kirk stopped his maddening caresses and lifted himself to gaze at her.

  “I don’t hate you, Cassandra; I’ve never hated you.” Kirk lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. He gazed at her, his heart beating loudly, his desire swelling toward the bursting point. He remained still. He just looked at her and drank in her overwhelming beauty. His eyes swept from the green flashes of fire in hers, to her perfectly formed mouth. He took in the graceful lines of her neck before feasting on the enticing swell of her boldly thrusting breasts. Her skin shimmered in the moonlight, and he no longer cared about the risk he was taking. His emotions ruled him, blocking off any discordant thoughts that would interfere with this night.

  “You are truly beautiful,” he whispered, bending to taste the softness of her skin. “Truly,” he repeated when he raised his head.

  Cassandra blinked back tears of emotion. “Love me, Kirk,” she whispered, no longer caring if what she was doing was a mistake, for in her heart, she knew, there was no choice.

  Cassandra spoke the words her heart had cried, and when Kirk kissed her, he did so deeply and passionately, yet his mouth was gentle and loving at the same time.

  As the kiss lengthened, another fiery burst of passion exploded. Cassandra’s hands moved of their own volition, weaving through his thick hair before leaving it to explore the myriad contours of Kirk’s back.

  His hands flowed across her body, gently seeking and firmly fondling. Wave after wave of intense pleasure cascaded through her body like the ebb and flow of an ocean tide. Electric shocks rippled across her breasts as his lips showered her with love.

  Kirk lost himself within Cassandra’s silken body; his lips devoured, his hands explored, and his eyes feasted on every part of her. As he did, he knew he had stepped across the forbidden threshold, but could not stop himself.

  Cassandra’s heart beat loudly as she gazed at Kirk’s face, lit by the pale moonlight. She raised her arms, beckoning him. When he moved to her, her breath caught. Then his mouth was on hers as he fit himself to the contours of her silken body.

  Her eyes closed when his arms captured her. Her breasts burned against him as her long legs slowly wrapped around his firm thighs. Cassandra’s world wavered. A searing explosion engulfed her entire being as they joined in a slow and graceful ballet of love.

  They were one. Their passions and desires blended together as their bodies had done, bringing them to a high plateau—a special place Cassandra had never known existed. Their cries of love and passion echoed through the night as he carried Cassandra on a voyage of love that brought tears to her eyes. With each movement of their bodies, new sensations and emotions were born within Cassandra’s heart and mind.

  Just when she thought she could take no more, another whirlwind of passion lifted them from their special plateau and sent them spiraling upward to the very center of the universe as their love built to a shattering crescendo before leaving them breathless and awed.

  They lay still for a long time, neither willing to move, both content within their embrace. Cassandra’s breathing slowed, but she refused to loosen her tight embrace, even as she buried her face in the warmth of his shoulder.

  She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted the salt of her tears: tears not of sadness; rather, of joy, for Cassandra knew her love for Kirk was not only strong but also good.

  Lying beneath him, unbothered by his weight, the feel of his warm breath washing across her skin brought her back to reality. She moved, and as she did, Kirk lifted himself gently from her, and. then lay on his side, facing her.

  Studying her face, he saw the dewy trails on her cheek. He bent his head to kiss them away. Then he stroked her cheek and kissed her lips. He tasted her tears in the kiss and drew her closer again.

  Neither spoke; neither wanted to shatter the wonderful aura of love that surrounded them. As they lay there, Cassandra, safe within his arms, fell into a light, secure sleep.

  ~~~~

  Kirk, dressed only in his jeans, stood on the porch and looked up at the sky. His mind was a maze of confused thoughts, and for the first time in a very long time, he was unsure of himself.

  After Cassandra had fallen asleep, Kirk had left the bed, put on his pants, and gone outside. Although he could still feel the silken warmth of her skin and the intense splendor of the lovemaking they had shared, his thoughts would give him no peace.

  He berated himself repeatedly for allowing his emotions to rule him. He had violated his personal rules. Nevertheless, and looking at the star-blanketed sky, he realized he was not made of unfeeling steel. He was in love with Cassandra, and he would no longer deny it...to himself.

  But to what end? he wondered. Kirk was, if nothing else, a realist. He loved his work, loved ranching, and, if everything worked out the way he was planning, would buy his own ranch in two years. His plans had no provision for love—especially with the boss’s daughter.

  He thought about every moment that they had spent together since first meeting. He had seen two vastly different people: the cool, calculating, rich and spoiled jet-set daughter of wealth, and the vulnerable, sweet, and sensitive woman of this evening.

  Which one is the real Cassandra Leeds? Is either real? He wondered

  Kirk knew he’d put himself into a precarious situation. Cassandra Leeds was not just another woman; she was the daughter of the man who controlled his future. She was a part of a different breed, one known for their unending wealth, uncaring attitudes, and frivolous and casual affairs.

  Kirk wondered if what had just happened was a means of entertainment for Cassandra to wile away the next year. Was this a casual affair for her? They were far too different, he knew, but did not want to admit.

  Yet an hour ago none of those things had mattered—only the overwhelming love and desire rising so sharply within him as he had gazed into her flashing green eyes.

  Standing alone beneath the open sky, grave doubts invaded Kirk’s thoughts and clouded his thinking. She was such a contradiction. She changed with every moment, every gesture. Would tomorrow bring yet more change?

  ~~~~

  Cassandra woke slowly, her mind filled with a thousand thoughts. Tonight her love had come to f
ruition, and her emotions were riding a crest she had never before felt.

  Everything had been so right: the way they had kissed, the way they’d looked at each other, the way they had become one. Although she wasn’t a virgin, Cassandra had never followed the path most of her friends had. In fact, there had been only one other man in her life—Somner Barwell.

  Cassandra shook away any thought of him, not wanting to spoil the beauty of the moment, reached for Kirk. Where his head had been before, her hand found only emptiness. She sat up and looked around the darkened room for him.

  Leaving the bed, she slipped on her shirt and went in search of him. She paused in the living room when she saw Kirk’s silhouette pass by the front window.

  Going to the screen door, she looked outside. “Hi,” she whispered.

  Kirk turned. He smiled, trying to dismiss his troubled thoughts. Even though she’d just woken, he saw that Cassandra Leeds was still as incredibly beautiful as at any other time, perhaps even more so. Suddenly a harsh and heavy weight descended upon him. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, stepping inside.

  “I missed you,” she replied truthfully.

  She went to him and wound her arms around his naked back, luxuriating in the touch of his warm skin on her hands. She lifted herself up on her toes, and as she did, his head bent forward, meeting her halfway. This time their kiss did not become an all-consuming explosion: it was a gentle and soft expression of tenderness.

  When they parted, Cassandra gazed at his face. “Kirk, I…” but she stopped, unsure of what she really wanted to say. She wondered if he would believe her if she told him the truth—if she told him she loved him.

  She tried again to speak what was on her mind, aware of how vulnerable she was letting herself become. “Kirk, I never…” but again, her emotions cut off her words and prevented her from telling him how she felt.

  Kirk held himself back, waiting for her to go on, to say something to make him believe she felt the same as he, but she didn’t. Is this a casual affair? he wanted to ask but did not. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he said instead.