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When she received no response, Janice quickened her pace and made her way through the dining room toward the alcove. The moment she came near the threshold, she could feel her heart thudding in her chest.
Could, unaccountably, feel a sting in her eyes.
Allergies, she told herself.
Philippe was standing behind Kelli, guiding her hand, giving her instructions in a low, patient voice. It was a father-daughter scene worthy of a holiday card.
Except that they weren’t a father and daughter.
So what? she demanded silently. Her own father had never been that patient on the rare occasions he explained something to her. Most of the time, he’d waved her back with that trite, archaic sentiment that “girls don’t need to know that.” She’d learned her trade by watching, by sneaking behind her father’s back to observe him in action.
Never once had he put a hammer or a screwdriver into her hand and shown her how to use it. No tips or secrets were passed to her the way they had been to Gordon. Except that Gordon wanted no part of it. He remained, pretending to listen, because he was afraid not to. But his mind was always preoccupied with the current flavor of the month he was squiring. He’d been there in body, but not in spirit.
She would have killed for a moment like this in her own life. And Kelli was obviously lapping it all up, she thought, watching the way her daughter beamed up at Philippe.
Greeting-card moment or not, she had to break this up. “Kel, we’re going out to lunch.”
But Kelli was completely focused on the images she was creating on the canvas and the technique Philippe was showing her. “In a minute, Mama.”
She knew better than to let herself be ignored. “Now, honey.”
Philippe removed his hand from Kelli’s and stepped back. “You’d better listen to your mother, Kelli.”
The resigned sigh was filled with disappointment. Kelli retired her brush. “Okay.” And then she looked at her mother hopefully. “Can Philippe come, too?”
She had to nip this in the bud, too. “His name is Mr. Zabelle, Kelli,” she reminded her daughter. “And I’m sure Mr. Zabelle has better things to do than come to eat with us.”
He was about to take the excuse she tendered. He’d already spent way too much time not doing his work. So no one was more surprised than he was to hear himself say, “Actually, I don’t.” He was looking at J.D. rather than the little girl. “Unless of course, you’d rather I didn’t come along.”
Her mouth felt like she’d been snacking on sandpaper since morning. Janice knew she should be blunt and say something about lunch being a family affair. The truth was she didn’t want him around her because he made her uncomfortable—but he only made her uncomfortable because she wanted to be around him. It was a conundrum, as her father had been fond of saying.
The simplest way to avoid all that, to avoid any explanations that would probably result in her turning redder than the color of the shoes that Kelli had insisted on wearing this morning, was to say, “No, by all means, the more the merrier. Of course you can join us for lunch.”
So, she did.
Chapter Ten (#ulink_1792f385-6c44-513a-8572-f90761715035)
As it turned out, Philippe seemed to hit it off very well with Gordon and if one or the other paused to take a breath, there was Kelli, chatting like a little old lady, eager to fill in the dead air.
Consequently, Janice contributed very little to the conversation that took place over salads and seasoned chicken strips. Her exact words were: “Thank you,” uttered twice and neither time to the people sitting around her at the table. The words were addressed to the waitress who brought her beverage and then her lunch.
Content to observe and listen, both with a measure of awe, Janice assumed that no one noticed her silence. It amazed her that not only Kelli but Gordon seemed to be completely taken with Philippe. Their reasons, however, were obviously different. Kelli hung on the man’s every word because she was apparently caught up in a spate of hero-worship. As for Gordon, even though he and Philippe appeared to be worlds apart, the two had some things in common.
Would wonders never cease?
So as Gordon and Philippe talked about sports and action movies, and Kelli interjected enthusiastically from time to time, Janice took in the exchange and smiled to herself. And tried not to notice the feeling of contentment that wrapped itself around her.
“You didn’t talk much at lunch.”
Janice sucked in her breath, startled. Preoccupied with gathering her things together, she hadn’t heard Philippe come up behind her. Hadn’t seen him at all for the last four hours, not since they’re returned and she had gotten back to work.
Turning, she looked up into brilliant green eyes that took her breath away.
“You, Gordon and Kelli didn’t leave any openings to get a word in edgewise.” Her pulse was dancing, she noted. He was standing too close. “I’m surprised you even noticed.”
His mouth curved just the slightest bit. “Hard not to notice things about you.”
It wasn’t a line. He looked incapable of grinding out lines, she decided. Which made him completely different from her brother, Gordon, and probably his brother, Georges, too, she’d wager. From his manner, and the fact that he’d winked at her as she left, she had strong suspicions that Georges was much like her own brother.
She could feel Philippe’s eyes working their way along her face, studying her. Looking right into her.
Heat traveled up her body as a blush worked its way to the roots of her hair.
Now that had to be a sight, she thought disparagingly. A twenty-eight-year-old woman, widowed and a single mother to boot, who had, if not been around the block a few times, at least had gotten off the family stoop, blushing.
She caught herself wishing that the house didn’t catch too much of the afternoon sun. There was no way the man could miss the fact that she was blushing like some adolescent school girl.
“Thank you,” she murmured, acknowledging his compliment. “For everything.”
“Everything?”
She elaborated. “The easel, lunch.” Hiring me in the first place. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, debating her next words, but she didn’t want him getting the wrong idea.
“You know I didn’t invite you along with us to pay for it.”
A surge of desire rose out of nowhere, making him want to nibble on the same lip she’d carelessly taken prisoner. Did she have any idea how delectable she was?
“As I recall, you didn’t invite me at all,” he contradicted. “That was Kelli’s doing.”
He was right. Janice shrugged. “I thought you’d be uncomfortable.”
Although he wasn’t as outgoing as either one of his brothers, because of the kind of life he’d led with his mother during his childhood, he was able to fit into almost any situation.
“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” His eyes searched her face. “Were you?”
She had been, but it wasn’t the kind of uncomfortable he meant. It was the “uncomfortable” of realizing that feelings were being roused, feelings that could only lead to disappointment. But her thoughts were her own, not to be shared with someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger.
She lifted her chin defiantly. “Why should I be uncomfortable?”
“I don’t know.” He watched her, the soul of innocence. Innocence about to go awry. “I’m harmless enough.”
Had the man even looked in the mirror recently? She laughed shortly. “Not hardly.”
He could listen to the sound of her laughter all day, even when it was aimed at him. “Care to elaborate?”
She shook her head. Tiny pinpricks of panic assaulted her body. That was the trouble when you brought your brother and daughter with you, she thought. You couldn’t just beat a hasty retreat and drive away. You had to collect them first. “No.”
It was an effort to keep his hands at his sides. A stray hair along her cheek begged to be pushed back into place. “Then I was right, I do make you uncomfortable.”
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.”
