Thorne's Way

by Joan Hohl

  Jonas shook his head in wonder at himself. He was actually thinking as though she were a corporation instead of a woman. Well, an errant grin slashed his thin lips, he wanted to merge, didn’t he?

  You’re walking pretty close to the edge, Thorne, he advised himself seriously. Think about something else. But what? Mary Beth. Jean-Paul.

  What would he say to the Frenchman when he came to his office later this morning? What could he say? Mary Beth was an adult; she didn’t need his approval if she chose to marry a man he did not like. But then, he didn’t dislike Jean-Paul. That had been part of his problem. Even when he had thought there was a liaison between Val and Jean-Paul he could not dislike the man. Lord, but he had wanted to.

  So, you caution the man about the care of your daughter, and then you shake his hand and wish him well. Nothing hard about that. And if he presumes to ask questions about Val and your own marriage? Simple, you control the urge to rap him in the mouth, and tell him nothing.

  Beginning to fear for his sanity, Jonas pulled a folder to the center of his desk and opened it. Within minutes, the technical jargon had caught his attention. When he closed the folder over an hour and a half later his eyes ached with fatigue. Still mulling over the information he’d read, he rested his head against the soft leather back of his chair. Less than five minutes later he was sound asleep.

  Jonas had had the dream several times over the last month. Sweating, his head moving restlessly, he fought to free himself from the coils of unwanted sleep. The dream persisted, and once again he stood at the window in the hospital waiting room, sick with fear for Valerie. At his feet was a large pool of blood and at the door Milt stared at him accusingly, while behind him a nurse screamed, “She’s dead, and it’s your fault. You should have left her in Paris. Then she’d still be alive.” His eyes wide with horror, Jonas watched, unable to move as a stretcher was wheeled down the hall, and although the form on it was shrouded, he knew it was Valerie.

  A brisk tapping sound brought him awake with a jerk. His body was damp with a coating of cold sweat, and his hands had a death grip on the soft leather covering of the chair arms. Ignoring the renewed tapping at his office door, Jonas pushed himself out of the chair and went into the bathroom. Grabbing a small towel, he wiped his sweat-sheened face, tossed the towel in the sink, then walked back into his office with a growled, “Come.”

  At his command, Charlie’s secretary opened the door a few inches and poked her small face around it.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you, Jonas, but there’s a call for you on line one. I wouldn’t have disturbed you,” she hurried on at his frown, “but it’s Caradin in Washington.”

  “All right, Eileen.” Jonas smiled an apology for his frown. As the door closed he picked up the receiver and punched the first button. “All right, George, let’s have it,” he said without preamble.

  “You’ve won again, Jonas.” George Caradin’s usually calm voice held a note of exaltation. “They’re backing off.”

  A long, soundless sigh escaped through Jonas’s lips before he rasped, “It’s permanent this time? I don’t relish the idea of having to play these games every couple of months.”

  “No.” George’s tone was confident. “I’m sure they realize the game is definitely over.”

  “Okay, George, thanks for the hours you put into this. Now it’s back to business as usual.”

  “I was only doing what I get paid for, but you’re welcome, Jonas.” George chuckled, “I know it held you up, but I rather enjoyed the fight.” He paused, then said seriously, “I’m glad I’m on your team, Jonas. You really know how to fight dirty when it comes down to the clinch.”

  Jonas’s tone was dry as dust when he replied. “They grow them tough in the coal regions. Talk to you later, George.”

  George’s news had completely banished the nightmare and a smile of satisfaction curved his lips as he hung up the phone. Then he went still, his hand still on the receiver. For several seconds he fought a silent battle within himself. The temptation to lift the receiver and make flight arrangements to Australia fought with his need to get back to work. Australia won. He lifted the receiver, then replaced it, sighing softly. He couldn’t force her to come back. He’d tried to force her into facing life again, and instead he’d driven her away from him. He’d give her a little more time, he decided, and then, if she still had not returned, he’d go after her.

  But a moment later he was snatching up the receiver and calling the airport. When he hung up again some fifteen minutes later he was booked on the late-night flight to San Francisco. The hell with it, he thought grimly, I’m bringing her home.

  Jonas was still staring pensively at the phone when Eileen tapped at the door again.

  “Do you want to dictate now, Jonas, or can I go take Charlie’s?” she asked brightly.

  “Go back to Charlie and catch up on some of your work there.” Jonas waved her away. “I’m sorry about running you back and forth like this, Eileen.” He smiled ruefully. “I don’t know why Loretta’s having such a hard time replacing Maria, but until she finds someone you’re going to have to do double duty.” Then he favored her with a rare grin. “I’ll make it up to you in your paycheck.”

  “I don’t mind, Jonas, really. I just hate to see everything get backed up like this.” Eileen sighed over the mess the files were in. “I’ll come back after lunch.” With that she closed the door again.

  Jonas picked up a sheaf of blue-line sheets and was engrossed in checking over them when there was another tap on the door. Wondering how he was supposed to get any work done with all the interruptions, he called, “Come in.”

  This time it was Jean-Paul who poked his head around the door. “You wanted to see me, monsieur?”

  “Yes, Jean-Paul, come in.” Jonas waited until he was inside the room and seated before continuing bluntly, “Mary Beth tells me you have asked her to marry you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jean-Paul responded at once. “I wanted to speak to you at once, but she thought it best to wait until this business with Trans Electric was cleared up.” Jean-Paul gave a very Gallic shrug of his shoulders. “I…I did not like seeing her without your knowledge but,” again his shoulders lifted, “I also did not wish to lose her.”

  “Well, don’t lose any sleep over it.” Jonas smiled. “My daughter knows exactly what she wants, and apparently, that is you. Oh, by the way,” he added, “that business with Trans is cleared up. We can get down to some serious work again.”

  “But that is wonderful news!” Jean-Paul exclaimed. “And I get your—ah—drift?” His eyebrows inched up his forehead. “I will get out of here and get to work.”

  “DeBron,” Jonas said softly as the younger man reached for the doorknob.

  “Monsieur?”

  Jonas walked to within a foot of him. “You do love her, don’t you?” he asked in the same soft tone.

  “Mary Beth has become my life,” Jean-Paul answered quietly, his eyes steady on Jonas’s watchful blue-gray ones.

  “Good enough.” Jonas extended his right hand. “You may tell her she can set the date.” He liked Jean-Paul’s strong grip. “I hope you will be happy…Jean-Paul.”

  Jonas’s concession was duly noted by Jean-Paul, who grinned and assured him, “As long as I have her, I will be…Jonas.”

  What is the news of their engagement going to do to Valerie? The thought jumped into his mind as the door closed behind the Frenchman. Valerie had seemed to cling to Etienne’s brother. Would she, he wondered, resent Mary Beth now? Telling himself he’d find out soon enough, he headed for the bathroom.

  Uncomfortable from the fine film of sweat his dream had drawn from his body, Jonas stripped down for a shower. Stark naked, he stood in front of the medicine cabinet mirror to shave off his overnight growth of beard and brush his teeth. The pre-shower ritual completed, he stepped into the shower stall.

  After a quick scrub down in hot water, Jonas slowly turned the hot water tap off. The tepid, then cool water c
ascaded over his body, bringing him to tingling life and sensuous awareness. Closing his eyes, Jonas had a wide-awake dream of Valerie, equally naked, stepping into the stall with him. With very little imagination, he could feel the silky touch of her skin against his own, could see her wet lips lifting to meet his hungry kiss. The low groan that was torn from his throat startled him and he turned the water off with a violent motion. Grabbing a large towel, he dried himself from head to toe as he walked into the adjoining dressing room.

  Fifteen minutes later, dressed in a pristine white shirt, charcoal gray suit, and a very conservative blue-and-silver-striped tie, Jonas took one step into his office and came to a dead stop.

  At the doorway to the front office, looking crisp and bright, and incredibly beautiful, stood the black-haired, violet-eyed temptress who tormented his every thought. Jonas was barely aware of the raspy sound of his own voice.

  “Valerie.”

  Chapter 14

  What would she say to him? Valerie had considered and discarded at least a dozen different opening lines. Now, with her hand raised to knock on his office door, she still had no idea what she could say. Somehow a simple “Hello” wasn’t enough. She had been away over a month, and they had barely spoken to each other for weeks before she left. No, “Hello” was not nearly enough. Hoping that something brilliant would pop into her mind at the sight of him, Valerie rapped her knuckles against the door. Nothing. No growled “Come,” no softly muttered curse, nothing.

  Janet had spent hours convincing her that coming to the office was the right thing to do and he wasn’t even in! Her hand falling limply to her side, Valerie made a half-turn away, then stopped. Could there possibly be a clue to his whereabouts on his desk? Before she could change her mind, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. She took two hesitant steps inside the room and came to an abrupt halt. Either he had left the water running or he was in the shower—and Valerie knew he had not left the water running. Mortals did dumb things like that, not Jonas Thorne.

  He was here. In that bathroom. And she still did not know what she would say to him. For a delirious instant Valerie had the wild urge to rip off her clothes and join him under the spray. The urge died as quickly as it had sprung to life. Supposing he didn’t want her, or worse yet, supposing he was not alone! Valerie did a quick inventory of the large room. The desk was in its usual state of disarray, cluttered with loose papers, folders, and blue-line drawings. Nothing significant there. Compared to the desk, the rest of the room looked stark in its neatness. Her sharp-eyed perusal found no sign of a woman, which still did not prove there was none.

  Well, she thought, at least I’m prepared for a surprise, he isn’t. Then, in self-disgust, she took herself to task; it is not yet nine o’clock in the morning—of course he’s alone. The urge to retreat subsided, but she did not move out of the doorway. Glancing over her shoulder she gave the front office a quick survey. It looked neat enough, yet Janet had said it was in a mess. Had she lied to get her to come in?

  Leaning back against the door frame, Valerie recalled the events of her morning from the time she’d left the airport around six.

  Unsure of her welcome at home, she had decided while still on the plane that she would go to Janet’s apartment first. After the long flight the cab ride to Janet’s had seemed amazingly short. Janet welcomed her with a delighted smile and open arms.

  “Val, honey!” she’d exclaimed, after hugging the breath out of her. “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming home? When did you get in?” But before Valerie could answer, Janet saw the suitcases in the hall. “Good grief! Haven’t you been home?”

  “No.” Valerie shook her head. “I…I don’t know yet if I’m going back h…to the house.”

  “Get in here at once,” Janet ordered. When the door was closed she said grimly, “What do you mean you aren’t sure? You aren’t thinking of leaving Jonas, are you?” But again she didn’t give Valerie time to answer as she drew her into the kitchen with another question. “Would you like some breakfast?”

  “Just coffee, please, I had breakfast on the plane. And, to answer your question, I don’t know what to think about Jonas,” Valerie said steadily.

  Placing a cup of steaming coffee in front of Valerie, Janet frowned. “I don’t understand, why don’t you know what to think about Jonas?”

  “Just that.” Valerie shrugged. “I don’t know if he wants me to come back to the house. I haven’t heard a word from him since I left, Janet.”

  “Nothing?” Janet asked sharply.

  “Oh, he sent flowers to my mother after I telegraphed the news of the baby’s arrival, but he never wrote or called.”

  “You telegraphed!” Janet exclaimed. “Why in the world didn’t you call?”

  “Because I didn’t know what to say,” Valerie replied calmly.

  Janet was far from calm. “Val, that doesn’t make sense. Jonas is your husband. He…” Her voice faded, then came back in a whisper. “Had you left him? I mean, for good?”

  “I…” Valerie hesitated before admitting, “Yes.”

  “Oh, boy,” Janet sighed. “Do you want to tell me why?”

  “It just wasn’t working,” Valerie answered defeatedly. “We were barely speaking to each other when I left. I…I had to get away, Janet.”

  “And now?” she probed.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Valerie sipped at the hot drink. “I had some wild idea about trying to talk things out but—”

  “Go on,” Janet insisted. “But…what?”

  “But I guess I’m afraid of what he might say.” Valerie shook her head.

  “You won’t know, though, unless you do talk to him,” Janet urged. “Go see him, tell him how you feel.” A crafty smile curved her lips. “And I have the perfect plan of action for you to follow.”

  “What plan?” Valerie asked warily.

  “He needs a secretary.” Janet grinned.

  “Why do I get the feeling that this is where I came in?” Valerie groaned. “What do you mean he needs a secretary? What happened to Maria?”

  “She’s gone.” Holding up a silencing hand, she added, “I don’t know why or how but she is gone. She took off a couple of days ago.” Her grin widened. “Jonas has scared away two or three stand-ins since then. The way I hear it, the front office is a shambles. Added to that, Trans Electric is pushing again.”

  “He’s in the middle of another go-round with Trans and he hasn’t got a secretary?” Valerie cried.

  “No secretary,” Janet murmured complacently, her eyes correctly reading Valerie’s outrage.

  “How is the fight with Trans going?” she demanded.

  “Who knows?” Janet shrugged. “With no regular secretary in the office, the information from the high-rent district is pretty sketchy.”

  “Jonas must be unbearable by now,” Valerie muttered. “Remember how awful he was the first time Maria left?”

  “How could I forget?” Janet smiled, watching her closely. “And, as I said, he has already scared a couple of girls into running for cover, so I can imagine how unbearable he is by now.” She paused to let her words sink in, before adding, “Valerie, he needs you.”

  “In the office.” Valerie laughed bitterly.

  Janet sighed in exasperation. “You don’t know that, and anyway, that’s as good a place to start as any other. Better, actually, because he spends more time there than anywhere else.”

  “Oh, Janet, I don’t know.” Valerie sighed. “Before I left Mother’s I’d decided to have it out with him. Find out exactly what, if anything, I meant to him. Somehow that prospect seemed relatively easy from a distance of thousands of miles. But the closer I get to him, the more difficult facing him becomes.”

  “Do you love him, honey?” Janet eyed her consideringly.

  “Do you think I’d be here if I didn’t?”

  “Well, then what are we doing sitting here?” Janet asked. “Let’s go.”

  “Now?” Valerie asked nervously.


  Janet smiled in understanding. “Putting it off won’t make it any easier, Val.”

  “But…I feel grubby, I need a shower and clean clothes,” Valerie hedged. “You go on, I’ll come in after I’ve changed.”

  “I’ll wait.” Janet grinned.

  “But you’ll be late and…”

  “If I’m late, I’m late.” Janet cut her off decisively. “I’m an executive, remember?” Lazily waving her hand in a shooing motion, she drawled, “Run along, I’ll wait.”

  * * *

  “Valerie.”

  The raspy sound of her name shattered her reverie. Glancing up, Valerie felt her breath catch in her throat and her legs go weak. He looked clean, and handsome, and sexy as the devil, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying his name aloud.

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she managed a steady, if somewhat whispery tone. “I hear you have an opening for an experienced secretary.”

  “When did you get home?” Jonas asked in that same raspy voice.

  “Early this morning.”

  “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” Jonas demanded in sudden, relieved impatience. “I’d have been at the airport to pick you up.”

  “You mean you’d have sent Lyle,” Valerie snapped, first hurt, then angered by his tone. What had I hoped for, she despaired, that he would welcome me with open arms? Yes, she knew that was exactly what she’d been hoping for. Disappointed, she added, “Exactly as you sent Lyle to take me to the airport.”

  “Val, you know—” Jonas began, feeling his elation deflate.

  “Do you want my help or not?” she interrupted with a soft sigh.