messy for an Armani suit.
He wondered what he should be taking to entertain two toddlers.
His thoughts veered to the babies. How could MaryEllen have kept them a secret? If her lawyer was to be believed, she feared he would demand she return to San Francisco. Would that have been so bad? They’d worked together at McGeorge and Fergarson, discussed starting a business for months before taking the plunge. She’d had as much invested in the company as he. Pouring all their resources into the firm, they’d conserved on expenses by marrying each other. He liked the challenge of building a company, but sometimes he thought MaryEllen defined herself by the company and its success. Had business been more important to her than her children?
He rose, not liking the trend of his thoughts. He grabbed the overnight case and started for the airport.
Cassandra sat alone in a bank of chairs at the boarding gate, casually reading a magazine, a small tote bag beside her feet. She might resent the assignment, but she was professional enough to do her best. Knowing they’d head directly for the attorney’s offices, she’d dressed in a charcoal gray suit matched with a white blouse. Both traveled well, and she hoped she wouldn’t look like a wrinkled mess in the morning. A tingling awareness struck her, and she raised her gaze. As if attuned to him, she spotted her boss as he crossed the concourse toward the gate.
She sighed softly and sat up straighter. Jared was so good-looking he shouldn’t be let out without a keeper. Unconsciously she noticed the glances he received from the other women in the area. Some bold and interested, others more surreptitious, but all following his long stride as he crossed to join her. His dark hair was thick and neatly trimmed. The tan he’d had in the summer was not as evident after his recent trip, but the rugged masculinity in his face struck a spark of interest for the first time.
Cassandra frowned. Was it knowing he was single again that caused that? She’d thought he was drop-dead gorgeous when he’d interviewed her, but so far out of her league, she’d immediately ignored the sensations that flittered inside her and concentrated on doing the best she could on her assignment.
In reality, nothing had changed. So why this sudden awareness? She smiled politely as he drew closer.
“Here as ordered, sir,” she said briefly.
He sat beside her and glanced at her carryon bag and briefcase. A sardonic smile creased his cheeks. “You sound like a kitten spitting at a bulldog. Just remember who’s the boss.”
She met his hard eyes, a faint hint of anger visible in her gaze. “No danger of forgetting that, is there?”
Jared smiled.
She tightened her lips and returned to her magazine before she gave way to the urge to slap that smug grin off his face.
“Do you sleep in suits?” he asked.
“What?” She looked around and stared at him in disbelief.
“Just wondering. MaryEllen wore suits all the time except to bed. I thought you might wear something more comfortable for the flight.”
“This is appropriate attire for a business meeting. We are meeting the lawyers before we see your daughters, right?” she replied.
“Maybe they’ll be dressed like miniature businesswomen, too,” he murmured, not putting it past MaryEllen. Wearily Jared felt as if he’d never known his wife at all.
“I doubt it.” She eyed his suit. “I hope you brought something else. Kids can be messy, especially when confined in airplanes.”
He looked at her lazily. “I have a couple of changes in the bag. I figured we would stay at least one night in New York. If I don’t get some sleep soon, I’m going to just pass out.” He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“You can sleep on the plane.” Compassion struck Cassandra. He did look exhausted. After flying in from Asia, it had to be next to impossible to fly on to New York.
“I’ll have to. After the flight from Bangkok and the flight tonight, my body won’t know whether it’s coming or going. Do you know how many time zones I’ve crossed in the last twenty-four hours?”
She shook her head, her gaze moving slowly over his shoulders to the long legs stretched out before him. So much for her idea of discussing business on the flight to New York. For a moment Cassandra wondered what it would be like to travel with him when he was rested. Would he be a fascinating conversationalist? He’d been to so many places and done so much. Wasn’t he only in his early thirties? She would love to hear how he and his wife had started Hunter Associates and where they planned to take the company.
But it wasn’t going to happen tonight, she knew that.
Jared idly noted Cassandra’s perusal. Or was he imagining it? She probably wanted to discuss the bottom line or future projections and was trying to think up the best approach. She was no more interested in him than he was in her.
And he was not interested in any woman. Except he couldn’t quite explain the desire to loosen her dark hair, unbutton that high collar and remove the glasses. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen her not wearing them. He wouldn’t mind seeing her in a dress, or shorts—or nothing at all.
Nothing?
God, he must be tired—now he was hallucinating. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the impending meeting with his daughters. Disbelief warred with fascination. He had no time for idle fantasies about one of his employees—one. moreover, who reminded him strongly of his late wife. He’d had his fill of determined career women who cared more for competing in the business world than in making a home and planning a future complete with family.
Next time he ventured into a personal relationship, he’d find someone soft and feminine and more interested in flowers in the garden and a comfortable home than spreadsheets and bank statements. That’s what he’d look for—if he ever wanted to marry again.
The flight was called. Jared and Cassandra boarded first class. He offered her the window seat. “I plan to sleep the entire trip, don’t need to see out the window,” he said.
“Thank you. Though I should mention I’ll also be napping. If not, I’ll be a zombie tomorrow.” She slipped in, stowed her bag and briefcase, clutched her magazine like a lifeline. Bemused, Cassandra realized she could smell his after-shave lotion—tangy and masculine. Sitting close enough to feel the heat from his strong body, she wanted to draw away, but there was only the airplane wall on the other side. Tongue-tied and feeling awkward, she gazed at the magazine, wondering why all her common sense seemed to have gone cockeyed. Jared sat beside her, fastening his seat belt. She’d attended meetings in the conference room that he’d chaired. So what was the problem tonight?
Of course, at the meetings, she had not sat beside him. Not been so acutely aware of his strong hands, the width of his shoulders and the smooth skin of his freshly shaved jaw. She tightened her grip lest her fingers give way to the desire to brush against that stubborn jaw and test the texture of his skin, feel his heat sear into her.
Cassandra swallowed hard, moving her gaze out the window. There was little to see in the darkness. Lights lit the service vehicles scurrying around the big jetliner, but beyond that nothing was visible. Yet she continued to stare out the window. It felt safer, somehow.
“As
