A love like this only strikes once...

The storm that devastated the town of Logan Beach also ravaged everything Rosanna Turner once knew. First she lost her childhood home. Then the Thorn family bought out the store where she comfortably worked for most of her adulthood. Rosanna isn’t thrilled when eldest sibling David Thorn arrives in town, seeking her input before the grand reopening. Just like a Thorn, the man doesn’t play fair. He’s too charming, too gorgeous to resist...until she uncovers his secret agenda.

David wants to help repair the stricken town—all while discovering who’s been embezzling from his family’s new acquisition. Could it be Rosanna? The woman is irresistible and a force of nature in her own right. And he is in need of her expertise to make his store a success. Soon he also needs her in his arms...and anywhere else he can have her. Will mutual mistrust undermine their chance to build something wonderful together?

“What was that?” she asked. “A show of your superior strength? Was the seduction included or just the brute strength? I’m no high school girl trembling at the appearance of a guy she has a crush on.”

“So you have a crush on me.”

“We’re not changing the subject. The point is you think you can force me to bend to your wishes with a simple kiss?”

“You think that kiss was simple?”

He was baiting her and she didn’t like it.

David took a step forward. There was only a little space between them and he’d just decreased it by half. “Did you forget that you were in my arms? You were part of that kiss, simple or not. You were matching me tongue for tongue.”

Images of them kissing, with no space, not even air, between them threatened her resolve. Her stomach felt as if it would turn over or, worse, she’d fall into David’s arms as he was suggesting.

He grinned, something she wasn’t expecting. “Is it working?” he asked.

“Is what working?”

“Your memory. Your body. Is it pumping passion juice and you want to continue what I started?”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the first book in my new series, House of Thorn. You’ll meet David and watch as he rebuilds a store and a relationship devastated by a major storm. The idea for this book came from a real place along the Atlantic Ocean. I love the sea, the salt air, the sound of the birds. But I know the sea can turn from friend to foe in an instant. This is what happens in Love in Logan Beach.

Rosanna Turner fully expected the manager position of Bach’s Department Store to fall to her. But a storm took everything she owned, and nearly her life. With David Thorn’s arrival, she’s sure it will finish her. Rose considers David a privateer profiting from the sorrow of others. Yet his actions prove the opposite and she finds that the storm in her heart is greater than anything Mother Nature could throw at her.

Shirley

Love in Logan Beach

Shirley Hailstock

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SHIRLEY HAILSTOCK began her writing life as a lover of reading. She likes nothing better than to find a quiet corner where she can get lost in a book, explore new worlds and visit places she never expected to see. As an author, she can not only visit those places, but she can be the heroine of her own stories. The author of forty novels and novellas, Shirley has received numerous awards, including a National Readers’ Choice Award, a Romance Writers of America’s Emma Merritt Award and an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. Shirley’s books have appeared on several bestseller lists, including the Glamour, Essence and Library Journal lists. She is a past president of Romance Writers of America.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To my brother, Eugene, gone too soon. He and I read, watched movies and laughed together. Thanks for the memories. I will always love and miss you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

David Thorn stood on the seawall in Logan Beach, New Jersey, his arms stretched out. The salty wind blew against his face and the open neck of his white shirt. The Atlantic Ocean stretched from here to the Scottish shores and beyond. Overhead, gulls cawed and swooped to the water in search of today’s lunch. David thought about his family vacations in this very spot. And now he would be here daily, working and making the House of Thorn’s new Logan Beach store the best he could.

“You’re going to work here?” his brother, Blake, shouted with envy over the roar of the waves. “I’d be at the beach every day.”

David checked the sky, lowering his arms. It was blue and cloudless, and reminded him of his carefree days as a barefoot boy running through the sand along this beach. David gave his brother a quizzical look. “When you reported the finances, how would you explain your actions to the board?” The board being the family, since Thorn’s had always been a family-run business. Their mother started it by selling cakes and pastries out of the family kitchen when her children were barely out of diapers.

Blake looked at the beach. “There is that,” he said with a degree of regret in his voice. “I remember some fun days on this beach.”

David laughed. “More likely it’s the nights you remember. And a certain busty teenager named—”

“Stop.” Blake put up his hand. “Let’s stay in the present.”

Turning around, the two brothers looked at the town. A huge house, now a school, sat in front of them. It had stood there as long as David could remember. Since their vacations here were in the summer, the school was always closed. David wondered what the view was like from the upper floors. Thorn’s department store was nowhere near this house, but it too would have a view from the top of the building.

Two floors of the House of Thorn Logan Beach were dedicated to administrative offices and would have full 360-degree views. David believed that sunlight not only fostered production, but also contributed to better attitudes. His law office in Manhattan had huge windows.

The lower floors of the store were dedicated to merchandise.

“Have you reached her yet?” Blake asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Not yet,” he said, shaking his head. He didn’t need to ask whom Blake referred to. David had been trying to reach Rosanna Turner for a week, but to no avail.

“I’d forget about her. There have to be other people with experience who can fill her spot.”

“I promised the Bachs,” David insisted.

“You called her how many times? Twelve? Thirteen? And she doesn’t answer, doesn’t return your calls. She’s probably moved or taken another job. It’s not up to you to send out the dogs.”

“I’m not calling her again,” David said.

Blake smiled. “I knew you’d see reason. That lawyer mind of yours knows when a case is lost.”

David didn’t reply. And his case wasn’t lost. Not yet, David thought to himself, but he wasn’t going to debate it with Blake. Promises meant something to David. He’d try one more time, but not by phone. Rosanna Turner had to be somewhere and he’d find her.

They started walking in the direction of the store. It was a couple of miles from the ocean. He could walk it on a good day. Thorn’s wouldn’t open for at least three more months. The exterior was complete, but the inside needed building, furnishing and stocking. David had relocated from New York City to Logan Beach and secured temporary office space next to the store. He’d toured the construction of Thorn’s and spent one day at the shore. He didn’t think he’d get many days to spend walking on the sand. Without a boardwalk, Logan Beach still had crowds of sun worshippers dotting the area. While Blake loved the ocean, when David swam, he preferred a pool to the salty sea.

“When do you leave?” David asked his brother when the two reached David’s car.

“Next week. I have to go back to New York tonight. My meetings with Dad and Mom take place in the next three days.”

When their parents told the family they were planning to retire, David jumped at the chance to take over the conversion of the Logan Beach property. Blake was headed for San Francisco.

David nodded. He remembered the last-minute instructions from his parents before he left for the shore property. Blake’s conversation would be different since the San Francisco store was fully operational.

The Logan Beach store needed extensive renovation. And David’s first order of business was to find Rosanna Turner and see why she wasn’t living up to the person the Bachs had gushed about.

* * *

As the sun sat high in the afternoon sky, David parked at the curb and stepped out of his BMW i8. The bluish gray vehicle was incongruously lavish in front of an apartment building whose glory days had probably been before he was born. Punching the lock button on the key fob, he strode around the hood and checked the building’s address on his cell phone.

He was in the right place. The structure’s door was ajar and unlocked. Three young boys careened out of the opening, laughing in youthful exuberance, and ran toward the main road. David entered. The hall was dark, lit by a single bald bulb that couldn’t expend enough light to clear the shadows.

There was no elevator, but a staircase, nearly devoid of paint, led to second and third floors. Rosanna lived in apartment eleven, undoubtedly on the top. Her door had obviously been replaced with a salvaged one. It was a murky yellow against walls that were dark and in need of refinishing.

David knocked.

“Who is it?” someone called.

“David Thorn,” he replied, his voice seeming to boom in the empty space.

David thought he heard a sharp intake of breath. A few moments went by before he heard the rhythmic click of several locks being opened.

The door was widened by a few inches and a woman cautiously poked her head through the narrow space, her arms grasping the door in readiness to slam it shut.

“What do you want?” she asked. Her hair was pulled back severely, and she had high cheekbones that showed the hollows of her face. Wearing no makeup, she had the most incredible eyes he’d ever seen—large, brown and watery. He wished she’d smile. He’d like to see how her eyes changed when she did. Her dress was faded and too large, as if she’d recently lost a lot of weight.

“You are Rosanna Turner, right?”

She nodded.

“I’d like to talk to you about Bach’s.”

“Don’t you mean Thorn’s?” she asked flatly.

He waited a second before nodding. “I suppose I do.”

“Not interested.”

She pulled her face back and moved to close the small rectangular opening. David stuck his foot in the door to stop her. It was the first time in his life he could remember doing something so impulsive.

“At least give me a moment to explain why I’ve been trying to reach you. You haven’t answered any of my calls and I’ve come this far.”

Her expressive eyes raked him up and down for a full ten seconds, before she stepped back and allowed him into the apartment. The inside wasn’t much better than the outside. It was lit better, due to the large set of windows. The furniture was old, past the comfortable stage, but not as bad as the front door.

“Would you like something to drink—coffee, tea, water?”

He heard no reluctance in her voice and took that as a good sign.

“Coffee would be fine if it’s already made.”

She didn’t say anything, only turned and walked to the small kitchen. The distance couldn’t be more than three or four steps from where he stood. David waited, looking through the window. Across the street was an empty lot. The grass was overgrown and several rusted-out garbage cans were strewn throughout the place.

She returned with two mugs. “Cream and sugar?” she asked.

“Black,” David told her, turning away from the window. After the light from outside, the room seemed darker. He took the mug and sipped the coffee. It was good.

Rosanna sat down on the out-of-date sofa and David took the seat across from her in a single armchair.

“You’re aware that Thorn’s has bought the Bachs’ store,” he said, stating the obvious, but he needed a way to break the ice. She was cold and his words didn’t appear to chip even a sliver of the ice away.

“I’m here to see to the building of the new store and I believe it can be a centerpiece in Logan Beach.”

Rosanna looked steadily at him, but she didn’t say a word. Both her hands held the coffee cup, yet she did not raise it to her mouth. He wondered what she was thinking. Her quietness unnerved him. David had stood before judges with the worst reputations. He’d stared down criminals and bullies. Yet this underweight woman was making him sweat with her mute stare.

“You were the assistant manager at Bach’s.”

After a moment she finally said, “It was my last position. I started there as an assistant buyer.”

“The Bachs spoke highly of you and your abilities.”

Her mouth moved slightly. It was the shadow of the beginning of a smile. Then her expression quickly returned to its original blank stare.

“Are you having a bad day?” David suddenly asked.

The question seemed to get her attention and knock her off center. She set the cup on the table between them.

“No better, no worse than any other day.” Her tone was sour.

“Are you working? I mean do you have another job since Bach’s?” He didn’t think so. It was the middle of the workday and she was home. Her hair and lack of makeup told him she’d been home all day. She might work from home, of course, but there was no evidence of it in the rooms he could see, and that was most of the apartment.

“Yes,” she answered coldly. “I work nights.”

She offered nothing more. That told him that whatever she was doing, it was below her abilities.

David smiled, hoping she’d see that he was about to offer her something better. He couldn’t tell by her expression.

“Do you like your job? Is it satisfying?”

She gazed at him for a moment. “It pays the bills.”

She didn’t answer his question, but what she said revealed more than an answer would have.

“I’d like you to come back.”

“Back to what?”

“To Thorn’s.”

“I’m not interested in working at Thorn’s. The Bachs have sold out. The store is gone. They’ve moved on, so will I.”

David put down his cup and clasped his hands together. He stood up and looked around, then brought his gaze back to her.

“Is that what you’re doing?” His voice was stronger, back in his lawyer-addressing-a-witness mode. “It sure doesn’t seem so.”

The comment brought her out of her seat.

“What do you know about it?” she challenged, her eyes bright and angry.

“Not much,” he said. “But I know the person the Bachs talked about, a woman who is competent and efficient, is not the one standing here.”

“Get out,” she ordered.

His comment angered her. He’d designed it that way. David needed to pull her out of this depression, which seemed to have not only settled on her, but also on every aspect of this room.

“You know nothing about me, nothing about anything. You should try to find out something about the people here before you go blundering into their lives. It hasn’t been easy down here since the storm and all the lives that were lost. So why don’t you take yourself and your car back to New York and leave us alone.”

She’d seen him drive up, he thought. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have mentioned the car. David caught the underlying message in her comment. He understood that what his car cost could probably pay for this apartment several times over. He wondered if she had enough food to eat, and it caught him like a blow to his gut. He picked up the coffee cup and drank, unwilling to waste a drop in case she couldn’t afford more.

“The storm was like a war,” she said. “It changed people. They are no longer the ones they were before it happened.”

David should be angry with her attitude, but he admired her spirit. She really felt for the people of Logan Beach and how they were treated.

“I may not know that, and I can’t fix everyone who was affected, but there is one person I can help. I can only do one at a time and today it’s you.” He stopped, letting his words sink in. “I need you to come back and be the assistant manager at Thorn’s.”

He was careful to choose his words and to let her know this was his store, not a replica of the one she’d left.

“This offer is open for the next twenty-four hours. If you want to stop wallowing in self-pity and return to meaningful employment, my offices are in the building next to the store. Third floor.”

He drained his cup and put it down. Then he took a slip of paper with the office address and a business card from his pocket and dropped them on the coffee table.

“I truly hope to see you.” He’d lowered his voice to one of concern mixed with sincerity.

Outside her door, David dragged a breath into his lungs. He gripped the stair railing and held it tight enough to splinter the wood. His body was so solidly coiled, he felt only a long run or a hundred laps in a pool would relieve the tension. Rosanna Turner had touched something inside him that roared and he didn’t like it. He’d never been in a place so devoid of life, watched a person move through air and not disturb it. David had seen soldiers who were shell-shocked, and Rosanna reminded him of them. He wanted to somehow restore her, force her out of the pattern she’d set and let her know there was a future. This feeling of protection was foreign to him, something he’d never experienced before.

Yet, he’d found the spark of life in her when she accused him of not understanding what had happened to her and the people of Logan Beach. He hadn’t been here, had never been in a place where nature had destroyed life and property. He was usually the well-dressed attorney in court, seeking damage restoration for wealthy victims. When working his pro bono cases, which gave him personal satisfaction, they were usually related to personal injury by clients who were financially unable to afford his corporate fees.

David felt bad for treating Rosanna unkindly. His parents didn’t rear him that way, but Rosanna needed to be kick-started. It was obvious she’d been pitying herself for a long time and someone needed to let her know that things would not change if she didn’t change them.

David hoped that change would begin before the sun rose the next day. He felt Rosanna Turner was more than a depressed woman in a dingy apartment. She only showed a small amount of spark, but David felt it was there and all he needed to do was wait. She would come out of that shell and decide to rejoin the living.

Twenty-four hours would tell him if his theory was true or false.

* * *

Rose moved to the window. Sunlight highlighted David’s dark hair as he stepped out of the building. He stood a moment, looking first left, then right. She did the same. There wasn’t much to see. Several apartment buildings, none of them in great condition, were separated by either demolished buildings or cleared, but overgrown, lots.

The storm had happened two years ago, yet the devastation was still evident. Rose knew about it firsthand.

David moved, catching her attention. He went around his car, shrugged out of his suit jacket, folded it carefully and placed it in the back seat of the luxury car. He opened the driver’s door, then looked up. Their eyes connected and Rose jumped back as if she’d been burned.

A moment later, she heard the car door close. The engine purred to life and when she glanced down again, the car accelerated away. Letting out a long, slow breath, she turned away from the windows.

The business card he’d left lay on the table, a small white beacon in a sea of dark wood. She lifted it between two fingers. It bore his New York office address. His cell-phone number had a red circle around it, a signal that he was reachable at any time.

Rose dropped it next to the slip of paper with an address she recognized. It was the building next to the store. While working at Bach’s, she’d been in and out of it thousands of times.

Twenty-four hours he’d given her. What would the Bachs think? Should she return? She felt disloyal, even though she knew it was irrational. The final meeting the Bachs held with their employees told them the sale meant Thorn’s would keep as many of them as possible. Rose didn’t expect to be one of them. She was management and experience told her that new management meant out with the old.

She was the old.

Go back... She heard the words in her head. Go work for the people who had capitalized on someone else’s misfortune? It was unconscionable. Rose turned around in a full circle. Every inch of her small apartment could be seen from any place she stood. She’d once been part of the mighty and her fall had been long and hard. David Thorn was offering her a chance to restore some of her former life—if that was possible.

For a moment, the crisis she’d withstood for three days came back to her. She pushed it away, refusing to allow the thoughts to blossom in her mind.

She needed something more challenging than working nights as a cage cashier in a local casino. But Thorn’s!

Could she really go back there, back to the place she’d called home for so many years—a place that was only a shell of what it used to be?

* * *

The Jersey coastline stretched for a hundred and thirty miles, from the arm of New York to the tip of Cape May. Logan Beach comprised only twenty of those miles, including five miles of natural preserve.

Rose walked along the water’s edge. Holding her loose skirt above her knees, she played footsie with the soft lapping of water.

“Rose.” Amber Waverly sang her name and waved as she headed for her. Amber was her best friend. They’d met two years ago under dire circumstances. Together they had saved each other’s lives.

Rose waved back and waited for Amber to reach her. Carrying their shoes, Rose and Amber walked slowly. The water was cold, but refreshing.

“Glad to see you out of that apartment. What got you out?” Amber asked.

“David Thorn,” she said, emphasizing his name.

“Of the House of Thorn,” Amber stated.

“None other.” She glanced at her friend.

“How did this happen?”

Rose heard the admiration in her friend’s voice. It irritated her, but Amber never worked at Bach’s, so her allegiance lacked.

“He came by my apartment about an hour ago and offered me a job.”

Amber hooted. “That’s wonderful. You are going to accept it.” She stated it as fact without even asking what position he’d offered her. “That night job you have is going nowhere and you know it. You want a future, someplace where you can use your experience and leave your mark.”

Amber was a positive person. She had gotten Rose through the storm and she continued to try and push her to return to the retail business.

“I’m having a hard time with it. It’s Bach’s. The store will have a new name and a new look. Every time I go through the doors, I’ll be reminded of how my life changed.”

Amber jumped in front of her, took her shoulders and shook her. “Rosanna Turner, what is our motto?”

“Survive, don’t let the bad guys win.”

“Right.”

“The Thorns are the bad guys,” Rose said, shaking herself loose and continuing to walk.

“You don’t know that,” Amber responded. “And even if they are, wouldn’t it be better to fight the battle from the inside than trying to overcome it from a distance?”

“I’m not sure. I was so looking forward to taking over the store when the Bachs retired. Now I’m relegated back to following orders from a family group with little connection to Logan Beach.”

“What did he offer you?”

“Assistant manager.”

“That’s what you were before. Look at it as an opportunity,” Amber said.

“How?”

“Since this is a new store, you can guide it to the place you want it to be. I’m sure David Thorn isn’t unreasonable.”

“He’s a lawyer.”

“Lawyer?” Amber repeated.

“I looked him up on the internet. He’s a corporate attorney.”

“That’s perfect.” Amber’s arm went up to the sky in salute. “If he’s into the law and not the retail end of the business, you’re sitting in the right seat to get done what you want.”

Rose hadn’t looked at it like that. Leave it to Amber to see the big picture. Rose disliked her current job. It provided her with a means to eat and pay rent, but did nothing for her ego. She loved retail. David Thorn had offered her an opportunity to return and thoughts of getting back into retail would solve a lot of her problems, but could she let that happen? It was up to her to decide if she wanted to take the leap and turn her life toward a beginning point again, or do something else.

One thing David Thorn’s visit forced her to see was that she had to make a move. Her decision had to be whether she’d make it with the House of Thorn or somewhere else.

Chapter 2

The elevator doors slid open silently. Rose raised a foot, but stopped it in midair, allowing it to hang there before her balance tipped her sideways. As the doors began to close, she stepped out. Behind her the elevator closed, cutting off any escape she might want.

Uncomfortable in the heels she’d bought the day before, Rose paused and straightened her new suit jacket. She had only a few things left of her old life. Most were lost in the storm. Her current job didn’t require business attire. This was a new Rose. David Thorn’s office was at the end of the hall. Already his name was on the door. Rose’s stomach clenched. She moved slowly toward it. Without knocking, she opened the carved wooden portal and took in the room.

There were two offices, a reception area and a conference room. No one sat in reception. Nothing lay on the receptionists’ desk, indicating no one worked there. A clock on the wall was the only thing in the room that showed any life. The offices sat perpendicular to each other and the doors were open, allowing sunlight from the windows to spill out. To her eyes, the light was blinding.

Hearing the squeak of a chair, she looked toward the sound. David Thorn appeared in the doorway. It was all Rose could do to keep from gasping. She’d forgotten how good-looking he was. Six feet tall, brown eyes with a hint of amusement in them. He was dressed in a gray suit, although behind him she could see his jacket hanging on the back of his chair. She wondered if all he had were suits. He was a lawyer, maybe that’s why his wardrobe seemed to be made up of items from Harvé Benard.

She trembled, watching him. The unexpected reaction urging her to run was intense. She wanted more distance between them. She wanted to rush back to her apartment. It might be dark and furnished with secondhand pieces, but it was her sanctuary, a safe place where she could hide from the world.

Standing up taller, Rose reminded herself that she was no longer hiding. She was here. He’d challenged her to come, expecting her to find a reason, rational or not, to remain hidden in that apartment.

“Welcome,” David said. “I see you decided to accept my offer.”

The harshness of his tone a day ago was still fresh in her mind, although it was missing from today’s greeting.

“I didn’t have much choice,” she said.

“There’s always a choice.”

Spoken like an attorney. David dealt with choices.

“Let me show you around.” David moved toward her. Rose felt trapped. The door had swung closed when she came in, giving her no retreat. She was alone with him. Her heart pounded—she didn’t know from what.

Leading her to the second office, the one next to his, he said, “This one is yours.”

Rose swept her eyes around the room. It was bright, with a large desk facing the window, a couple of file cabinets and a credenza. The desk held a laptop computer and a printer. All the accessories matched. It was different from the mahogany appointments of her office at Bach’s. Rose couldn’t help but compare the old with the new.

“Anything you need, order,” he said.

Taking her to the conference room ended the short tour.

“Should I start right now?” she asked.

“What about your other job? I assumed you were working.”

“I was,” she said. “It’s finished.”

Rose didn’t tell him that when she handed in her notice, they had a replacement waiting.

“Then we can begin by touring the facility so you can see the construction.”

He left her briefly, going to his own office. He returned with two hard hats. Handing one to Rose, she noticed her name was embossed on it.

“You were that sure I’d come?” she asked, holding the hat with her name facing him.

David looked a little uncomfortable. “I hoped you’d see that coming back was the right thing to do.” He paused a moment before continuing. “I want to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t come to argue or badger you.”

“You were right,” she admitted, although it took a lot out of her to tell him that. “I’d been wallowing—I believe that was your word—for a long time. I need to take control of my own life.”

David nodded, pushing his hat on his head. “This way,” he said.

The walk to the old building, which Bach’s had occupied for several generations, was short. The building had a new facade. The Thorns hadn’t razed the old structure, one of the few left standing, although it had been severely damaged after the storm. The Bachs decided not to rebuild. They were past retirement age and wanted to spend more time with their grandchildren. Their decision had been a blow to Rose. She was to take over the store as manager when the older couple retired. After the storm, Rose and everyone else were out of jobs and most had sustained huge personal losses.

Rose walked around the first floor of the building. The walls were up. Drywall dust hung in the air. Painters were working in the distance. The ceiling lights were in place, although the ceiling itself was open and unfinished. The huge floor was open, but outlines were in place for certain departments.

“How do you like it?” David asked. He was obviously proud of what he saw. “Chandeliers will be placed along the full length of the room. They’re still on order.”

Rose’s gaze followed his. She imagined the light giving the place a rich look. On the floor were marks detailing the placement of display cases. She stepped onto one of them.

“What’s going here?” she asked.

“This is the area designed for fragrances, perfumes, special purchases.”

“It’s in the wrong place. Perfume counters should be over there.” Rose pointed to her left. “Here, people will walk into them. Scarves should be over here.” She started walking toward the area. David followed her, but she stopped suddenly and he bumped into her. His hands clasped around her upper arms to steady her.

Rose gasped. The touch of his hands was like fire on her skin. She pointed to a wall, deftly moving away from him. “And where is the children’s department?” she asked. “It needs to be over here.”

“It’s going to be on the third floor. This will reduce the noise level and we plan a full play area for the kids. Safety-wise, it’s better for all concerned.”

Rose walked quickly to the center of the area, where a sign that read Jewelry had been taped to the floor.

“You can’t put Jewelry here?” Rose said, her eyes wide.

“High-end jewelry will be on one side of the aisle and gemstones on the other.” David spread his arms to indicate what he meant.

Rose didn’t like the changes. The store had been set up for decades one way. Why change it now?

“Rosanna,” David said.

She took a long breath, letting it out slowly before turning to face him. She knew he was about to justify this new arrangement.

“I mean this in the best possible way. This is Thorn’s, not Bach’s. As Bach’s it was a wonderful store. It stood in Logan Beach as a staple for over a hundred years. We’re not trying to replicate Bach’s. They wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“What are we trying to do?” she asked. Rose was careful to keep her voice level and remove any sarcasm from it. She needed this job and David knew she needed it. He was going to be the person she reported to, so she should act like an employee. Why she wasn’t, she didn’t know. She did know, however, that the places on her arms where he’d touched her were still smarting and her heart had yet to return to a normal rhythm.

“We’ve tested this layout in other Thorn stores and it’s a scientific approach to crowd flow. Moving from one area to another is easier and usually in line with buying patterns. Those people who buy suits go on to purchase shoes and blouses.”

“I’m sure this has worked in other places, but you need to be aware how important it was for people here to return to things that are familiar.”

David took her arm and walked her away from the earshot of the workmen. Again Rose felt the electrical shock of his touch.

“Rosanna, as you told me, the hurricane happened. It’s not like people don’t know that or don’t want to put it behind them. Don’t you want to put it behind you?”

She hadn’t been prepared for that question. She turned away from him as memories rushed into her mind. David came up behind her before she had time to formulate an answer.

“I’m not asking that you forget it or pretend it didn’t happen,” he said. “It changed people. I get that. But if you plan to stay in Logan Beach, then you have to be willing to accept the change.”

“We are accepting the change,” she said tightly. “We have no choice but to accept it. The people of Logan Beach have been through a crisis and they feel comfortable knowing that some things are the same, comfortable.”

David moved around to face her. “I do understand. And I can’t undo what’s happened. No one is the same. Starting over shows the renewal of life.”

Hating to have her own words thrown in her face, Rose remained quiet.

David dropped his shoulders as if in defeat. “Rosanna, trust me. When the store opens, people will be happy to see something new. They’ll welcome the fact that we didn’t try to duplicate Bach’s.”

Rose hunched and dropped her shoulders. She had no choice in this matter. Thorn’s owned the building and everything that went with it. All that would happen to her would be that she’d be out on the street again. But as for trusting him? That was something she couldn’t do. She could accept changes in the store. She had ideas for the better placement of departments. She’d never written any of them down, but her plan had been that when the Bachs retired and left her in charge, she would restructure some of the areas. The difference between her and David was she would have done them a few at a time.

David was ripping the bandage off in one swift snap.

But then wasn’t that how she removed bandages?

* * *

Those beautiful eyes glanced up from the computer screen when David knocked on Rosanna’s door. They were light brown and foretelling was the only word he could use to describe them. She wore makeup today, not like when he’d surprised her by pushing into her apartment. It highlighted her eyes to the point of mesmerizing.

“You must be tired of reading papers and screens.”

“Some of it is interesting,” she said.

“Shut it down. That’s enough for today. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Her expression didn’t change as she glanced at her arm, looking for the time, but there was no watch there. Angling her head, she checked the clock on the wall in the reception area. He looked in the same direction. It was three o’clock and she’d been at it for hours. Boring hours, if David thought about it, although he didn’t really know her background or her temperament, only that she wasn’t thrilled that the Thorns had taken over Bach’s.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“I’d love a cup.”

“There’s a quaint little bakery not far from here. We could get some coffee there.”

“I’m familiar with it,” she said.

Of course she was, David thought as they headed out. She’d worked in this area for years. She probably knew everything about it and the whole of Logan Beach.

David had known it as a bakery in his youth. Now it was a coffee house with some baked goods. They served at least twenty types of coffee, a variety of teas and a few pastries.

“What would you like?” David asked as they approached the counter.

“Plain coffee,” she said.

“Black? Cream and sugar?” he asked.

“I’ll add them,” she answered.

David waited until she’d added a drop of cream and two sugars to her cup before speaking.

“Don’t think of this as an interview or anything,” he said. “The job is already yours, barring any unforeseen circumstances. I thought we could use this time as a sort of getting-to-know-you exercise.”

“Getting to know you?” she queried.

He nodded. “Like the Miss America candidates do. I know you can’t live around here and not know all the details about that contest.”

Atlantic City was only half an hour from Logan Beach. The annual beauty contestants sometimes spilled into Logan Beach for photo shoots.

“I’ll start,” David told her. He understood she was apprehensive. He was technically her boss and he knew the dynamics that came into play when a person didn’t know the reason for the meeting.

“I was a summer resident here. My uncle used to rent a house and bring my brothers and me along with his sons here for a month.”

“So you’re not a stranger to the area?”

She gazed at him, cradling her coffee cup in both hands as if she needed it to warm her. Her voice held surprise that he was familiar with the city.

“I haven’t been here in a couple of years, but I used to come every summer, even while I was in law school.” Logan Beach wasn’t that big, even though it had a long coastline. Yet David had never run into her. He’d been in the Bach’s store. As a member of a family running department stores, he couldn’t go anywhere and not check out the competition. It was a family requirement. He wondered if his reports about Bach’s had interested his parents in the store once it was for sale.

“Most people come here for the beach. Is that what attracted your family?” Rosanna asked.

“I think it was just a place to let five boys run wild.” He laughed, but Rosanna didn’t. “How did you get here?”

“I was born in Logan Beach.”

No elaboration. David was used to people continuing to talk, more than they should in some cases.

“Any siblings?”

“Only child.”

“Were you a lonely only child?” he asked pointedly.

Rosanna stared at him. “No. My life was filled with friends and activities.”

“What kind of activities?” He was trying to get her to talk, to open up. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask about dance lessons, sports, anything young girls would do, but thought that would elicit another one-word answer.

“The normal ones—tennis, horseback riding at Island Beach, roller blading, gymnastics, swimming, dances, cotillions and proms.”

“Do you still ride and play tennis?”

“Sometimes.”

“Maybe we can have a company league and play regularly.”

“Would you like me to add that as an employee recreational option?”

He shook his head. “We’re going to have a lot to do and when our human resources department is up and running, they can work on that. But we’re not here for work.”

“Yes.” Rosanna’s head bobbed up and down. “The getting-to-know-you meeting.”

“It’s not a meeting.”

She took a drink of her coffee. David thought it must be cold by now.

“Would you like a fresh one?” he asked.

She shook her head. “We lived across from the beach. My carefree days were spent with friends, swimming and going to parties. I went to college in Atlanta—Clark Atlanta University. I majored in business finance and minored in music.”

Music, he thought, but didn’t say anything. She’d finally begun to speak in sentences of more than one word and he didn’t want to stop her with questions.

“When I returned home, I got a job with a brokerage house in Philadelphia. I hated the commute. One day I saw an ad for a job in the finance department at Bach’s. I got it and expressed an interest in being a buyer. Mrs. Bach took me aside and taught me the ropes. From there I advanced to assistant manager.”

Rosanna had delivered the speech as if she was reciting her résumé.

“During college, other than being an A student, what did you do?”

She looked at him. “How do you know I was an A student?”

“Something about you says it. And the Bachs gave you a glowing recommendation.”

“Well, I wasn’t an A student.”

“Then you were a fun student. What did you do for fun?”

She smiled. She must have remembered something.

“That’s it,” he said.

“What?”

“You smiled. I’ve been hoping you would.”

“What?” she asked again.

“I believe that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since we met.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again.”

David stared at her, then saw her straight face turn into a small smile. “So you do have a sense of humor.”

“Did you think I lost it in the storm?” Again Rosanna’s face had only the shadow of a smile on it, but David realized she was kidding.

“One day maybe I’ll get a full, unadulterated laugh.”

“I’ll work on it,” she said.

* * *

“So, how was your first day?” Amber asked, pouring them both a glass of wine.

Rose accepted hers and curled her bare feet under her as she sat on Amber’s sofa. The two women had met during the storm’s crisis and shared the same makeshift hospital tent. The experience bonded them as if they’d been friends from birth.

“Exhausting,” Rose answered. “I needed a hard hat to tour the store.”

“A tour conducted by Mr. Thorn, I take it?”

Her glib tone was unmistakable, especially as it was followed by a Cheshire-cat smile and a fluttering of her eyelids as she took a sip of her wine.

Rose nodded, taking a sip of her own drink.

“So, spill, how was he? Is he as good-looking as his photo?”

“Photo? What photo?” she repeated.

“I looked him up on the internet. Apparently, the entire family is made up of gorgeous guys.”

Rose had looked up the Thorns, too. She’d seen David’s photo, maybe the same one Amber was referring to. She hadn’t even made the decision to accept David’s offer until she left the casino in the early morning hours.

“He’s tall, around six feet. Dresses and acts like a lawyer.”

“Don’t compare him to the Bachs. They’re bound to have different management styles.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “They do. He’s changing everything. The store won’t be recognizable.”

“It’ll be a House of Thorn’s store,” Amber said.

Rose took another sip of her wine. Amber was a realist and didn’t pull punches. She said what came to her mind. David came to Rose’s mind. She wondered what photo Amber had seen. David had a power that surrounded him. You immediately knew he was in control. He was a decision maker. She could imagine him in court, arguing before a jury and convincing them that his point of law was the correct and only decision they could come to.

“Thinking about him?”

Amber’s question caught her off guard.

“Who?” she asked, but they both knew the answer to that.

Amber frowned, screwing her face up in an exasperated expression.

“I wasn’t,” Rose lied. “I was thinking about the building layout.” She wasn’t thinking about the store, but the strange conversation they’d had in the bakery.

“That’s your story...” Amber left the rest of the cliché hanging. “You are going back tomorrow, right?”

Rose signed and nodded. “I’ve spent too many years in retail that I don’t know how to do anything else.”

“You could learn,” Amber told her.

“I feel like I’m starting all over again anyway. They might as well put me in the mailroom.”

Amber sat forward. Placing her glass on the coffee table, she looked directly at Rose. “We’re strong. We’ll survive. We can do anything. We’re invincible,” Amber said, reciting one of the mantras they’d said over and over during the storm.

Rose smiled. “Yes, we can,” she said. “But maybe not in a casino making change.”

Both women laughed.

* * *

When Rose arrived the next morning, she was wearing gray pants and a green blouse with a dark green jacket. The outfit looked like a suit, but Rose had put it together.

In the middle of her desk was a large white envelope with her name on it. Opening it, she found employment forms, insurance papers, a W-9 form, a confidentiality form and a notice about security cameras.

“I should have given these to you yesterday,” David said from where he stood in her doorway. “They’re a formality, but they must be filed to make everything legal.”

Rose nodded. David took a step into the office. “There’s another envelope,” he said.

Rose picked up the white, legal-size envelope. It was sealed and had nothing except the return address of the store in the corner. She opened it and inside was an offer letter and a signing bonus check. Rose’s eyes widened when she saw the amount. She hadn’t seen that much money since the Christmas bonus from the Bachs three years ago. Mist rushed to her eyes and she forced herself not to cry.

Rose wondered if David knew what this check meant to her. She wore borrowed clothes and subsisted on simple food. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to find other employment, but since the storm there were few places to work. Her savings were practically gone and she hadn’t known what would happen when her bank account reached zero. If David Thorn wasn’t standing in her doorway, she’d break down and cry. Forcing herself to remain calm, she looked up at him.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Emotion kept her voice from its normal level.

She looked down at the forms, expecting David to leave her alone to fill them out. Instead he took the chair in front of her desk. Rose looked at him expectantly.

“You can fill those out and give them back to me next week. Right now, I have something for you to do.”

“All right,” Rose said. Her duties hadn’t been spelled out and she looked forward to having a purpose.

“I thought about what you said yesterday when we were touring the store.”

“I was out of line—” she began.

David raised his hand to stop her apology. Rose heeded his warning and stood waiting.

“First, I’d like you to forget how things used to be.” David paused, but Rose decided not to challenge the remark. “If you could design the store of your dreams, if you could start from scratch and do whatever you wanted, what would your store look like?”

Rose had to think about that. “You want an answer now? Off the top of my head?”

“Not every nail and wall-color choice, just what would it look like?”

Rose thought for a long moment. Pushing the envelope aside, she searched for paper. Inside a drawer, she found a yellow legal pad and pulled it out. She began drawing squares to indicate areas of the floor. She chose the bridal department to begin with. David watched her. Between them was a desk light. He looked over it and bobbed his head several times as he followed her train of thought.

“Lights would be here to showcase the display case.”

He got up and moved around, pulling his chair so he sat next to her.

Rose felt all the air in the room leave it. She felt the heat of his body, smelled the aftershave he used. Her eyes closed a moment and she took in the erotic nature of it. David asked a question, drawing her back to the task. She didn’t hear it.

“What was that?” she asked.

“What is in this area?” He used his finger to circle a large open area.

Rose drew a 3-D circle. “This is where the bride stands to show off her dress.” Drawing basic lines at right angles to represent chairs, and arches to represent a walkway, she said, “The bride comes down this aisle and steps onto the pedestal. Any family or friends with her will see her in a ceremony setting.”

“I like it,” he said.

His hand dropped on her shoulder. Rose’s throat went dry and she could feel the heat of his touch through her suit jacket and blouse, searing into her skin.

“Maybe we’ll give some of this to the designer and see what she thinks.”

A knife plunging into Rose’s gut would have felt better than his words. These were her thoughts. She hadn’t expected him to take them and give them away. She pushed the pad toward him in a dismissive manner. He got what he wanted, now someone else could take over the business of putting it together, changing it to their way of thinking. Rose expected nothing to be the same as her vision of the department.

“We haven’t really gone over my duties yet,” she said.

“You’re the assistant manager. I suppose your duties are the same as they were under the Bachs.”

“That was a fully stocked store with employees already hired. I dealt with buyers, personnel, shipping, mail order, budgets, payroll, everything the Bachs didn’t handle.”

“You can do the same here.”

“That’s an open catalog,” Rose said.

“If you need help, hire someone. You’re the assistant manager,” he repeated.

Cocking her head, Rose scrutinized David Thorn. She didn’t know him, didn’t understand his motives. She wondered if he was really trusting her, or if he wanted to see what she would do with the authority he gave her. She’d had this job before and she was comfortable with it. She could do whatever the store needed.

And she’d prove it.

* * *

David left for the day wondering about Rosanna. As he pulled his car into the rush hour traffic, Rosanna was still on his mind. She remained an enigma to him. Usually he read people easily. He’d been trained to observe them, get at the underlying causes of problems or secrets they held. But with her it was like trying to open an oyster with a toothpick.

He hadn’t realized where he was driving and when he saw the small sign reading Legal Aid Office, David stopped. He hadn’t met any lawyers since he arrived in Logan Beach and this was a perfect time.

Inside, the place was crowded, even at six o’clock in the evening. The office seemed to accommodate those who couldn’t come during the nine-to-five workday.

“May I help you?” asked a large woman wearing a bad wig. She sat behind a high desk and looked him up and down in a gesture that said he didn’t appear to look like the usual people who come to a legal-aid office.

“I’m an attorney and stopped by to say hello and introduce myself.” He handed her his card.

She glanced at it and then up at him. “House of Thorn,” she said. “Isn’t that the new store that’s going up across town?”

“It is.”

“Are you representing them in some action?”

“No, I guess I wasn’t very clear. I’m not introducing myself as someone’s lawyer.”

“Then are you here to help?” she asked.

David hadn’t thought of helping. He’d just come to meet other colleagues in his profession. But the question caught him off guard.

“I don’t think I can. I am with the store, just didn’t know any other lawyers in Logan Beach. How many work here?”

“Not nearly enough,” she said as a man approached the desk. “Perfect timing. Paul, meet Mr. Thorn of the House of Thorn. He’s a lawyer and wants to meet some other lawyers. This is Paul Varga—he runs the place.”

The two shook hands. “Are you here to volunteer?”

“I take it you’re shorthanded,” David said, since he’d been asked the same question within two minutes of entering the building.

“Very.”

“I’d like to help you out, but my hands are full right now.”

“Well, maybe some time in the future. Stop by anytime. We can always put you to work.”

Someone came up to Paul and his attention was gone. David realized he’d been dismissed. It wasn’t something that happened to him often. Paul was busy. People called to him from every direction. There wasn’t much time to talk to someone not willing to help.

David nodded to the woman behind the desk and left the building. He slipped into the driver’s seat, but didn’t start the engine. His office in New York was clean and tidy, with law books and a waiting room. This place was little more than a warehouse with mismatched chairs and working men and women waiting for a straw of help.

He needed to help. David felt the calling of his profession. He knew Thorn’s was his priority. Things were going well and they were on schedule, but there was a lot of overseeing to do. He couldn’t possibly leave everything to Rosanna.

Reaching for the ignition, he stopped, his finger on the start button. He didn’t press it, but took his foot off the brake and opened the car door.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.