Playboy Bachelors: Remodelling the Bachelor

He laced his hand through hers. “Really.” He nodded toward the dining room. “Come see.”

“No, that’s okay,” she demurred. But he was already bringing her in.

Like a boy caught by his mother after curfew, Gordon looked both surprised and uneasy to see her. “What are you doing here?”

Before she could say anything, Philippe was quick to explain. “Janice thought she forgot one of her tools. I wanted to introduce her to you guys—in case any of you lugs has a remodeling job you want done.” Turning to her, he confided, “All of them are as handy as dried out paste.”

Georges merely laughed. “You should talk. At least I know what to do with pointy objects.”

Just standing there, listening to the exchange, she could feel the love in the room. It made her envious and long for a childhood she’d never had.

Chapter Eleven (#ulink_998054f2-6ae7-5d0d-9e03-41459bb6ef5e)

As Philippe introduced her to the other members of his weekly poker game, Janice was acutely aware of the way her brother was looking at her. As if he knew why she was really there. It wasn’t because of some so-called imaginary tool she’d left behind. She wanted to check up on him, as if he were twelve and she was his mother.

It was all there in his face: annoyance at her unexpected invasion, hurt at her lack of trust. But damn it, could he really blame her? After all he’d put her through? She only had his best interests at heart.

The introductions over, Janice pressed her lips together and mustered a smile that took in all the men gathered around the oblong table.

“Sorry, I didn’t know I’d be barging in on a poker game. Please, go back to playing.” Her eyes met Gordon’s briefly. “I was never here.” She glanced at Philippe. He made a move to follow her as she backed away from the table. “I can see myself out.” Again, her eyes shifted toward her brother. “See you at home, Gordon,” she added as she retreated.

Despite what she’d just told him, Philippe followed her out of the room.

She felt just awful for raising her voice and accusing Philippe of taking advantage of her brother. She wouldn’t blame him if he decided to terminate their contract. But before she could tender an apology, something that never came easily to her, Philippe took her by the arm and drew her over to the side.

“Listen,” he began softly, “I’m sorry I stirred things up for you.”

God, when he looked at her like that with those green eyes of his, she caught herself thinking that she could forgive him for just about anything.

Get a grip, Janice. He’s the guy you’re working for right now, nothing else. Is that clear?

Clear as mud.

“It seemed harmless enough at the time,” Philippe was saying to her. She struggled to focus on his words and not his lips or his eyes. Not exactly easy, given their proximity. “I got the feeling earlier today that your brother’s struggling with a lot of problems and I thought this might help him blow off steam. It does me.”

What kind of problems did Philippe have, she wondered. From everything she’d seen, he led a perfect life.

After a beat, she found her tongue and discovered that it really wasn’t glued to the roof of her mouth. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”

The grin was quick, so was the all-but-lethal shot to her gut. “Well, apparently I do. I don’t know if you realized it or not, but there was steam coming out of your ears when you got here and I think you left a perfect replica of your knuckles on my door.”

Okay, so she’d overreacted. Big time. She wasn’t the kind to try to bury a mistake. When she was wrong, she was wrong and she admitted it, but she wanted Philippe to understand why she’d come in looking and sounding like a possessed wild woman.