Playboy Bachelors: Remodelling the Bachelor

He made her fidget inside. Made her restless.

Made her remember that there were other things besides two by fours to put her hand to. Small, nameless desires materialized out of the mists where they’d been banished. She yearned to touch this man, to feel his muscles beneath her fingertips, his stubble against her cheek in the morning. Yearned to catch a whiff of his scent on the pillow beside hers even after he was gone.

God, but she missed being part of a twosome. She and Gary had had their problems, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t have been worked out in time. She’d married him to get out of her father’s house, where she felt unloved and ignored. All she’d wanted was to begin a life of her own, to matter to someone. That was her goal and she was willing to make all kinds of compromises to reach it.

But then Gary had gone and died on her. Leaving her just as her mother had. Just as her father had, in his own way, years before he died. With her parents, she’d endured emotional abandonment before they ever left her physically. With Gary, it had been physical, but this didn’t lessen the pain of the loss.

There were just so many times she could expose her heart. She no longer needed approval, she was her own person. And as for love, well, Kelli loved her and in his own confused way, so did Gordon. That was enough.

Oh God, he was touching her, his fingertips moving against her face. It took everything she had not to melt into Philippe’s hand, not to melt against him. Her breath backed up in her lungs.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, J.D.”

“Janice,” she whispered.

He leaned in a little closer, his lips so close to hers, she could almost feel them moving as he asked, “What?”

It was an effort to think, to speak. “You’ve hired me, that means you get the right to call me by my first name.”

“Janice.” He nodded, repeating the name. And then he smiled. “It suits you.”

“How so?” Damn it, was he ever going to drop his hand? She was having trouble thinking.

He didn’t know how much longer he could refrain from acting on the impulse that kept doubling in size every second. “Short, to the point, yet feminine.”

That made her laugh under her breath and she shook her head. “Been a long time since anyone called me feminine.”

Very slowly, he moved his thumb along her lower lip, enticing them both. “Don’t see why. You are. Under those jeans and that T-shirt, you are.”

What the hell was he doing? his conscience demanded. It was like having some kind of out-of-body experience. He’d somehow stepped outside of himself and now he watched this unfold. Watched himself flirt with a woman even though any relationship would be doomed from the start. He knew he wasn’t going to follow up on any of these feelings he was having, even if they were so strong they made it hard for him to breathe.

He was his mother’s son, which meant that no matter what he felt now, he was going to move on. Something always seemed to stop him, made him turn away, before he became even mildly serious. Janice didn’t deserve to have her life messed up like that.

He needed to stop, to walk away.

Now.

But he didn’t. And he was no longer just watching, he was acting. Acting on impulse, on whim, on a desire that seemed to be bigger than he was, acting like some kind of fool.

It didn’t change anything. He leaned over her trim, athletic body and brought his mouth down on hers.

Anticipation did not overshadow reality. If anything, it was the other way around. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget everything, just enjoy the moment.

Oh, my God. Everything around her, the room, the house, the world, everything faded to black and disappeared except for the incredible sensations shooting through her. Absorbing her. Breaking down from the mini-tower of strength she perceived herself to be and rebuilding a flesh and blood woman with needs and desires.

Without thinking, she rose up on her toes as far as she could, winding her arms around his neck and leaning into him, nerves jumping all up and down on her body. She’d never expected anything like this, never had her head turned completely around by a mere kiss.

No, not mere. Anything but mere.

“Mere” didn’t make her skin sizzle or her brain go careening. But as wondrous as it was, she felt unsettled. Unsettled because his kiss opened up floodgates she was terrified of having unlocked.

And yet—

This was delicious and she didn’t want it to stop. In a minute, but not now. Just a second longer and then she’d back away. She had to. No matter what her yearning was, she couldn’t act on it. Because she wasn’t alone.

Thank God she’d brought her brother and Kelli with her. Having them here forced her to remain on the straight and narrow path, something she strongly doubted she could have done on her own right now.

And then, as unexpectedly as it had begun, it was over.

Philippe drew his head back, his expression dazed. He took a breath, as if to steady himself. It was going to take more than a breath to do that for her, she thought.

“I’m not going to apologize,” he told her.

“All right.” She was fairly surprised she could actually talk. Her lips felt as if they had the consistency of warmed honey.

“Not for the kiss, anyway.”

She didn’t understand, but then, it would have taken her a minute to respond if someone had asked her her name. “Then for what?”

The smile was sad and burrowed into her heart before she could stop it. “For more things than I can begin to tell you.”

“You are a very complicated, mysterious man, Philippe Zabelle.”

The laugh was dry with only a touch of humor to it. “You don’t know the half of it.”

He made her wonder. About the sadness in his eyes, about him. Had there been anyone in his life? Someone who’d hurt him? Or someone he’d hurt that he felt guilty about?

“Maybe someday I will,” she replied.

Damn it, not your business, Janice. This wasn’t part of the job and that was all she needed to focus on. Abruptly, she raised her voice and called out to her daughter.

“Time to call it a day, kiddo.” While Mama still had knees that functioned.

She felt as if she’d just been dynamited off her comfortable perch. With effort she slowed her pace and left the room, trying very hard not to look as if she was hurrying away from him.

But she was.

As she carried in the laundry basket from the garage later that evening, she noticed that Gordon’s car wasn’t there. Still holding the basket, she passed by the window and glanced out.

The car wasn’t parked at the curb, either. “Kelli, where’s Uncle Gordon?”

The little girl looked up from the book of children’s drawings she was paging through. “He went out.”

Oh God, not on a date, Janice prayed. The only time Gordon didn’t say anything about leaving, didn’t call out a “see you later,” he was going off on a date with someone he knew he shouldn’t be seeing.

Janice set down the basket on the coffee table and sat down beside her daughter on the sofa. “Out? When?”

“A little while ago.” Kelli paused to think. “The seven o’clock news lady was on. He said I couldn’t go with him.”