[The Sons of Lily Moreau 01] - Remodeling the Bachelor

by Marie Ferrarella

  “No. Really. Kelli. Bed.”The words came out in staccato cadence as Janiceallowed herself, for one moment, to entertain the idea of taking Philippe up onhis offer.

  And the offer she was certain lay beyond that. It was a struggle, but she had to remain focused. She wasn’t going to getinvolved, at least, not any further than she already was. It wasn’t too lateyet. The hook, the line, the sinker, they were all still within her grasp. Butonly if she backed away.

  “You might be familiar with my place,”Philippe continued as if she hadn’t triedto protest.“It has extra bedrooms. The princess,”he smiled at the bundle inhis arms, who stirred, wrapped one small arm around his neck and went onsleeping,“is welcome to use any one of them.”

  Janice shifted so that her back was to the open room, creating a small, intimatepocket for herself, Philippe and her daughter. She tried not to dwell on justhow intimate.“If Kelli’s not in her own bed when she wakes up, she has atendency to get scared.”

  “Really.”He tried to look down at the face resting on his shoulder. Compassionnudged at him. He could remember Alain being abnormally afraid of the dark andGeorges not being able to sleep unless the closet door was completely closed.

  “And I thought she was fearless.”

  Janice laughed softly. Kelli came off like gangbusters sometimes, but she wasstill a little girl, susceptible to the pitfalls of a vivid imagination.“We allhave our quirks.”

  “Yes, we do. All right, if I can’t talk you out of leaving, Cinderella, let mecarry the crown princess to your car for you.”When she began to protest yetagain, he cut her short.“I’ve grown accustomed to the weight and it’s a littlehard to relinquish.” Janice smiled, running her hand along Kelli’s head. The ribbon the little girlhad insisted she put in her hair had come undone and was now drooping as much asshe was.“I know the feeling.”Raising her head, Janice’s eyes met his.

  Something warm undulated through her, born of an unexpected communion and thesurge of bitter-sweetness that she experienced seeing him holding her daughterlike that.

  The words seemed to come of their own volition.“You can come to my place.”

  He was almost certain he hadn’t heard correctly.“Excuse me?” Bail out. Say nothing, and run for your life. And yet, when she did speak, whatemerged was none of that.“For that nightcap. If you’d still like to have one,you can come over to my place if you’d like.”

  The smile burrowed right through all the protective layers she’d everconstructed around herself.“I’d like,”he said softly.

  Nerves began jumping around like a compass placed in a field of magnets, warningher that she’d just taken a step into less than solid territory.

  Reinforcements, she needed reinforcements, Janice thought, suddenly glancingaround as she began leading the way to the front door.

  “Looking for Gordon?”Philippe guessed, bringing up the rear.

  She’d bailed him out so many times, it was time for him to return the favor.“Ijust want to tell him we’re leaving.” But Gordon, it turned out, wasn’t quite ready to go. He was having much too gooda time. Mainly with the redhead he’d been monopolizing from the first hour he’darrived.

  Excusing himself for a moment, Gordon stepped over to the side to talk toJanice.“I’m going to hang around for a little while longer,”he told hissister, then. Glancing over his shoulder toward the redhead, he added,“Don’twait up.”

  She knew that look. That was Gordon, smitten to the nth degree. Concernsimmediately sprang up. Janice forgot that she was the one who needed help.

  “Gordon—” A feeling of déjà vu washed over Philippe. This was an uncomfortable situationin the making, just the way it had been when his brothers used to go at oneanother when they were growing up. Time to stop it before it started.

  “—Is a grown man, Janice. He’s allowed to stay out late if he wants to,”hepointed out.

  Not expecting him to interfere, she looked at Philippe, stunned and, for themoment, speechless.

  Gordon took advantage of the momentary respite and moved back to the redhead.

  But not before nodding his thanks to Philippe.

  She supposed that Philippe was right. Gordon was a grown man, even if he didn’toften behave like one. But still…

  She shook her head as she started walking again.“He’s only going to get hurt.” Well, at least she was talking to him, Philippe thought. His little errand ofmercy hadn’t cost him that.“Maybe not. That’s Electra,”he told her. They were outside now. The sky was studded with stars as she made her way to theback of the building and the parking lot where she’d left her car.“Beyond beingthe name of a heroine in some Greek play, is that supposed to mean something tome?”

  “No, not to you,”he agreed,“but to me. She’s a distant cousin of Alain’s—and avery nice girl,”he added, hoping that would put her mind at ease.

  “A distant cousin of Alain’s,”she repeated, stopping beside her car,“but notyours.”

  “No, not mine.”

  She began to look for her car key. For a small purse, it certainly didn’t makethe search easier.“And he’s never been married?”

  “No.”

  She took out her wallet and her cell phone. Holding both in one hand, shecontinued feeling around the bottom of the purse.“Then it’s not possible.”

  “It is if Alain had a different father than I did.”

  She stopped looking. Her eyes raised to his.“Oh.” Now that he’d opened that door, he might as well open it all the way, Philippedecided. After all, it wasn’t anything he was ashamed of, just something hedidn’t advertise. It made his mother seem inconstant—which she was but that wastheir business. However, something about this woman with the large soulful eyesmade him want to share, to open all the doors and windows and air out the mustyplaces that had known only darkness.“Georges did, too.”

  “Georges and Alain had a different father than you,”she said out loud, tryingto get it straight in her head.

  “Why don’t we take my car?”he suggested.“That way, Gordon won’t be stranded.

  We can move the car seat,”he added before she could protest.

  “Okay.”Opening the rear passenger door, she took out Kelli’s car seat andfollowed behind Philippe to his sedan.

  Philippe unlocked the passenger door of his car.“Fathers,”he said, emphasizing the S. She looked at him sharply.“Different fathers.”He wondered what she wasthinking as she attached the car seat and then took her daughter from him,strapping Kelli in.“Mother got around,”he commented philosophically.“And,apparently,”he rounded the hood and got in on the driver’s side,“it seems thatnothing has changed in that department.”

  Janice pulled the seat belt around her, slipping the metal tongue into the slot.

  “You must have had a really rocky childhood.”There was sympathy in her voice.

  Or was that empathy? Either way, Philippe shrugged casually.“It was…interesting,”he finally said,settling on a neutral word. He put his key into the ignition, turned it, thenglanced behind him to see how Kelli was doing. She was still very soundlyasleep. Like Alain at that age, he thought. He turned back around.“So, withyour backup bailing out, I guess you’d rather I took a rain check on thatnightcap.”The car began to move. Her sense of survival urged her to take the way out Philippe had just offeredher.

  But there was also her sense of competitiveness to reckon with, that edge thatshe’d always grasped in her struggle to make her an equal in a man’s world. She slanted a glance toward him. Philippe probably thought she was afraid ofhim. Nothing could have been further from the truth. If she was afraid ofanything, it was herself.

  Because of the feelings that had surfaced, hard and strong.

  “Why?”she challenged him. He smiled at her then, getting the very distinct impression that they were, intheir own way, battling the same demon. The same fear, even if they had arrivedat it by different routes.

  He shrugged, easing out of the parking lot.“No reason.”


  Janice took a deep breath. She was going to regret this.

  She couldn’t stop herself.

  “All right, then,”she said.“Make a left at the next light.”

  Philippe nodded, doing as she said. He refrained from telling her that healready knew where she lived. Because he’d always believed in covering all hisbases. She lived twenty minutes away, on the far end of Bedford. Because ofFriday-night traffic, it took almost twice that amount of time to reach herhouse from the Lido Isle gallery.

  Never one to care for driving, Philippe found himself enjoying the ride. Theytalked about Kelli and the show. Both seemed like safe enough topics. She lived in one of the older developments within Bedford. But there was nothingold about the house. Even in the dark, with only the porch lights to guide himas he pulled up, the two-story dwelling looked as if it had just been renovated.

  Renovated inside as well as out, Philippe noted as he carried the sleeping childinto the house behind Janice. She’d tried to take Kelli out of the car seat, buthe had gently moved her out of the way and done it himself. He’d pointed outthat she was going to need at least one hand to hold up the edge of her gownwhen she negotiated the stairs. Reluctantly, she’d agreed, thinking him to be anunusually observant, sensitive man.

  As if he needed more points.

  “Really nice place you have here,”Philippe said, looking around as he followedher. He made no attempt to hide his admiration.

  There were no edges in sight, no angles, other than the windows. The walls wereall rounded and the rooms fed into one another via arched entrances.

  Maybe he could stand to have more work done on his house, he thought.

  “Did you do this all yourself?”The place suited her, all curves and roundedshapes. She was surprised that he was giving her all the credit. After all, she’d toldhim that her father had been a contractor and there was Gordon who was more thancapable, once he had a fire lit under him. Philippe wasn’t trying to flatterher, she realized, he was serious.

  “Mostly,”she admitted, doing her best not to smile smugly. Her father andGordon were traditionalists. She’d once dreamed of being an architect.

  “You’re better than I thought you were—”He turned to look at her.“And that’spretty damn good,”he was quick to add, knowing how sensitive she could be.

  Almost embarrassed despite the surge of pride that filled her, Janice changedthe subject and nodded toward the stairs.

  “This way.”Taking hold of her dress, she raised it and led the way quickly.

  Kelli’s bedroom was the second door to the left. When she opened it, Philippestood in the doorway, awed. There were murals on three sides of the room.

  Kelli was one lucky little girl, he thought.“God, this is a child’s fantasycome to life.”

  “She helped design it,”Janice told him proudly.“And she painted that one.”

  She pointed out the pastoral scene on the right. That hand had been a littleunsteady, but it was still very impressive, Philippe thought. He placed Kelli down on a bed shaped like a tiny Viking boat. Fairies danced onthe wall behind it, all appearing to gaze down at the little girl. Sweet dreamstook on a new meaning.

  Removing Kelli’s shoes slowly, Janice threw a light sheet over her. He’d just assumed that bedtime would have rituals attached to it. This wasalmost bohemian—something his mother would have approved of.“Aren’t you goingto change her?”

  After pausing to switch on an oversized nightlight in the shape of a teddy bear,Janice began to back out of the room. She shook her head in response to hisquestion.“You’d be surprised how that would wake her up. I can always wash herclothes.”

  Though a simple sentence, she had trouble getting it out. Her lips and throatwere dry, in direct contrast to her hands, which felt damp.

  This was ridiculous.

  She couldn’t seem to talk herself out of it.

  Slipping out of the room, Janice took a deep breath as she closed the door.

  Then, summoning courage, she glanced up at him.“You don’t really want anightcap, do you?”

  Philippe moved his head from side to side, his eyes never leaving hers. Thetemperature in the hallway rose several degrees of its own accord.“No.”

  Breathe, Janice. Breathe. Superhuman effort pushed more words out.“What do youwant?”

  He didn’t answer her. Instead, Philippe curved his fingers lightly along her face and brought hismouth down to hers. Slowly enough for her to pull away if she wanted to, quicklyenough to steal away the breath she had just drawn in.

  Janice was lost from the very beginning.

  Maybe even from the moment she’d decided to come to Lily’s showing. Because inher heart, as she slipped on the silvery gown, she knew it would end this way. Here, in a warm, intimate circle that included only the two of them, withemotions racing through her at the speed of newly charged lightning. Being held, being kissed, being wanted, all of it hurt because of the inevitabledisappointment that waited for her at the end of the road. But for the moment,for the very vibrant, pregnant moment, it felt beyond good. It felt absolutelywonderful.

  Delicious.

  And then, in a heartbeat, she found herself airborne. Philippe had swept her upin his arms.

  “Where’s your room?”he whispered against her temple, his breath featheringalong her skin. She was melting. Melting so quickly that for a second, she couldn’t focus,couldn’t think. It took effort to remember where she was. Or even who. And asfor all the reasons this shouldn’t be happening, she couldn’t recall a singleone.

  “There,”she finally managed, pointing to the door that stood across fromKelli’s room.“There,”she repeated urgently. Anticipation ran through her andevery inch of her tingled.

  Philippe moved the door open with his shoulder, carrying her into the roomwithout drawing his mouth from hers.

  Each kiss was deeper than the last. Each kiss rendered her a little hotter, a little wilder than the one that hadcome before it. The eagerness frightened her even as it overwhelmed her. Not hisbut her own. When he set her back on the floor, a hunger took possession of hermind, her body, disintegrating the first, commandeering the second.

  She all but tore away his jacket, his shirt, his trousers as her breath grewshallow and her desire grew deep.

  “There’s no zipper,”Philippe realized in wonder. He drew back, catching herhands in his.“How—” Swallowing, fairly certain that she was probably never going to be able tocreate saliva again, Janice took his long, artistic fingers and placed his handson either side of the swell of her breasts.

  “You tug.”It was more of a seductive whisper than an instruction.“Slowly.”

  “Your idea of torture?”A smile rose to his lips as he obeyed. About to answer, Janice jolted involuntarily as the material left her breasts. Ashiver vaulted along her spine followed by a blast of heat. It was all she coulddo to keep from pushing him onto the bed. Where had this appetite, this hungercome from? How could she have not known of its existence?“Yours or mine?”

  “Both,”he whispered, stopping as the gown dipped just below her belly button,hugging her hips.

  “What’s wrong?”Why was he stopping? Had he changed his mind? Oh God, she’d fallto pieces if he changed his mind.

  “Nothing.”He groaned softly as he passed his hands over her breasts, her waist,her belly.“Not a single thing,”he told her in a voice that was equal parts aweand worship. He wanted this to last. He wanted her to remember. And he wanted to remember itas well. Not that there was any danger that it would get lost in a myriad ofdalliances. He wasn’t Georges or Alain.

  But even so, he wanted this to be memorable for her. So he kissed her. Over and over again. Kissed every part of her that was exposedto his gaze until he finally drew away the last of the material. It pooled likesilver rain at her feet.

  They tumbled onto her four-poster canopied bed, onto a comforter that felt morelike a cloud than something meant to cover a bed.

  And he began to make love to her in earnest, for al
l he was worth. As if he’dnever made love to a woman before.

  Because, as far as he was concerned, until this very moment, he hadn’t.

  Chapter 14

  Janice couldn’t catch her breath.

  Was it because, aside from that one mistake, she hadn’t made love to anyonesince Gary was killed? Was it because, until Gary, she’d been a virgin and he had been her only actualpartner, her only true lover? Was her admitted inexperience with lovemaking thereason why she now felt on fire?

  The pleasure came at warp speed and she found herself peaking, one of the veryfew times she had attained a climax. And yet it wasn’t over. There was so muchmore, wrapped up in agonizingly wonderful sensations. More than she’d everrealized there could be.

  Philippe was an expert lover, yet she had no feeling that he was doing this bythe numbers. Instead, it was if he was creating something new and wondrous justfor her.

  Janice moaned, wanting desperately to absorb every nuance, every sensation thatwent spinning through her. Absorb every pass of his hand, of his incrediblysensuous mouth.

  She had to be dreaming. Nothing was this good and still real.

  And yet…

  He did things to her she’d never had done before, aroused her by skimming placesno one had touched. After she’d climaxed again, Philippe’s tantalizing breath still warm on thesensitive skin just below her belly, she felt her heart pounding in her ears,the sound so loud it was almost deafening.

  How did he do it? How did he manage to weave this magic, turning her into a massof wants and needs? This wasn’t her, had never been her. She was a rock.

  She was pudding.

  And what was she going to be like after it was all over? Her heart still raced madly, and she was certain that it was trying to break outof her chest.

  And then everything slipped into slow motion. Philippe drew the length of his body over hers again. Two more heartbeats and hewas over her. If her body wasn’t already rivaling the physical composition ofdissolved ice cream, she knew she would have melted all over again.

  Damn him, he was making things happen, not just in her body, but in her heart.

  The latter both thrilled her and scared her to death. But if he stopped now,she’d die.