COVER

Falling for Rachel

The Stanislaskis

Book Three

Nora Roberts

The Stanislaskis: an unforgettable family saga by #1 New York Times bestselling author Nora Roberts

Landlocked in Manhattan, rugged seaman Zack Muldoon needed a tough, no-nonsense lawyer to save his kid brother’s delinquent hide. Public defender Rachel Stanislaski was not what he had in mind—until he discovered there was a lot more to the beautiful, coolheaded attorney than met the eye…and found himself falling for her, hook, line and sinker.

DEDICATION

Mary Kay, here’s one just for you

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

PROLOGUE

Nick couldn’t figure out how he’d been so damn stupid. Maybe it was more important to be part of the gang than he liked to admit. Maybe he was mad at the world in general and figured it was only right to get his licks in when he had the chance. And certainly he’d have lost face if he’d backed out when Reece and T.J. and Cash were so fired up.

But he’d never actually broken the law before.

Not quite true, he reminded himself as he pulled himself through the broken window and into the back of the electronics store. But they’d only been little laws. Setting up a three-card monte scam over on Madison for suckers and tourists, hawking hot watches or Gucci knockoffs up on Fifth, forging a couple of ID’s so that he could buy a beer. He’d worked in a chop shop for a while, but it wasn’t as if he’d stolen the cars. He’d just broken them down for parts. He’d gotten stung a few times for fighting with the Hombres, but that was a matter of honor and loyalty.

Breaking into a store and stealing calculators and portable stereos was a big leap. While it had seemed like a lark over a couple of beers, the reality of it was setting those brews to churning in his stomach.

The way Nick saw it, he was trapped, as he’d always been. There was no easy way out.

“Hey, man, this is better than swiping candy bars, right?” Reece’s eyes, dark and surly, scanned the storeroom shelves. He was a short man with a rough complexion who’d spent several of his twenty years in Juvenile Hall. “We’re gonna be rich.”

T.J. giggled. It was his way of agreeing with anything Reece said. Cash, who habitually kept his own counsel, was already shoving boxes of video games in the black duffel he carried.

“Come on, Nick.” Reece tossed him an army-surplus bag. “Load it up.”