Playboy Bachelors: Remodelling the Bachelor. Marie Ferrarella

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.”

      The idea of Kelli out with Gordon on one of his dates horrified her. “Well, at least he has some grain of sense,” she murmured to herself, then looked at her daughter. Something wasn’t adding up. “Why would you want to go with him?”

      “Because he’s going to Phili—Mr. Zabelle’s house,” Kelli amended, knowing that her mother didn’t like her calling grown-ups by their first names.

      Janice stared at her daughter. Okay, the two men seemed to get along at lunch, but Gordon just wasn’t in Philippe’s league. Philippe had things together while Gordon was a loosely wound ball of yarn, ready to come apart at the slightest push. “Why would he be going there?”

      “To play poker,” Kelli volunteered brightly.

      Janice’s mouth dropped open. Poker? Had he gotten caught up in a new obsession? Gordon didn’t do things by half measures. If he started seeing someone, he was planning marriage by the end of the first date. She’d seen him through a number of dependencies, including food and alcohol. He didn’t know how to do anything in moderation—except work, she thought cynically. These days, she was working like a dog not only to pay her own bills, but to help Gordon meet his bankruptcy payments as well. The faster that was paid off, the sooner he’d be able to get on his own two feet.

      A cold shiver went down her spine. That wasn’t going to happen if he’d taken up gambling.

      She rose to her feet, putting her hand out to her daughter. “C’mon, honey.”

      Kelli scooted off the sofa, taking her mother’s hand. “Where are we going?”

      “Well, you’re going to Mrs. Addison.” A grandmother three times over, the woman had made it known that she was willing to babysit in the evenings, especially if there was an emergency. This definitely qualified. “I’m going to Mr. Zabelle’s house to bring back Uncle Gordon before he finds another pit to fall into.”

      It was obvious that Kelli didn’t quite understand what she was talking about, but she’d latched onto the one thing that was clear to her. Her mother was going to see Philippe. “Mr. Zabelle? Why can’t I go with you?”

      Janice grabbed her purse out of the closet. Slinging it over her shoulder, she headed for the front door with Kelli in tow. “Because Mama’s going to be using some grown-up words that you’re too young to hear.”

      “I watch TV, Mama,” Kelli protested.

      She locked the door behind her. “More grown-up than that,” Janice told her tersely.

      Her tone was far from warm, but it wasn’t meant for Kelli. She was focused on Gordon, annoyed with him for blundering into yet another possible addiction. She wasn’t overly thrilled with Philippe either, even though the man had no way of knowing about her brother’s addictive personality.

      But he would by the time the evening was through.

      This was all she needed, Janice thought.

      She struggled to keep her temper in-check. As she drove to Philippe’s, it was an effort to keep from pressing down on the accelerator and going over the speed limit.

      For most of her adult life, she’d been bailing her brother out of one thing or another. His inability to recognize that he was being taken in by a series of women who only wanted what he could give them, had catapulted him into bankruptcy, which had led him into drinking and then overeating. She’d finally, finally gotten him to come around and be her assistant on these contracting jobs. And now he was sliding backward into something new.

      She pressed her lips together, trying not to swear as she eased her foot off the gas. She was doing five miles over the speed limit.

      Philippe was a bright man, couldn’t he see that Gordon had a weak, malleable personality?

      Damn it, why did she have to be her brother’s keeper, anyway? She had enough to keep her busy.

      Getting over that kiss, for instance.

      The second she thought of it, of her involuntary reaction, Janice felt her skin tingling.

      Get a grip, Janice. You’re supposed to be boiling mad, not a bowl of mush.

      By the time she arrived at Philippe’s door, Janice was completely worked up. Instead of ringing the bell, she knocked. Pounded was more like it. The door had taken the place of her brother’s head.

      Inside, Alain peered at his brother over a hand that would have gladdened the heart of a professional gambler.

      Slim