Blame It on Paris by Jennifer Greene Page B

she realized now. And she figured he wore that rumple of blond hair a little on the long side to illustrate that he didn’t care, was a lazy wastrel type.
    He wasn’t a lazy wastrel type.
    When she didn’t immediately respond to his plan, he hesitated. “I know, Kel. You didn’t really come here to sightsee. And I don’t even do sightseeing. But the thing is, you’ve had a major stress load. So you’ve got to balance it. You’re stuck waiting until some things happen, like getting your passport back—”
    â€œAfter which, I have to go home.”
    â€œI know you do. So we have to schedule your time, find a way to make the most of it.”
    Truthfully, Kelly didn’t need to do another thing to know she’d never forget a second of Paris…or a second she’d spent with him.
    â€œBut,” he said, as if that single word were a sentence in itself.
    â€œBut?”
    â€œBut maybe you have something else you want to do? Or something you want to add to that agenda?”
    She nodded. “I’d like to do everything you said, Will. But I’m afraid I can’t think, can’t do much of anything, without doing something more about my father. What to do, I don’t have a clue. But right now, I’m just feeling…”
    When she couldn’t come up with a word, Will said, “The French have a word. Dérailler. Feeling derailed. Thrown off track.”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œOkay.” He thought. “So we’ll start out the day at my work. Leave there, hit a library, research some background information about your father. After that, you can decide if you want to try to make another face-to-face connection. If you do, I’ll go with you.”
    Very casual, her Will, she mused. He never made anything sound serious. Certainly there was no protective tone in his voice, but that quality was there. From the instant he’d met her, he’d relentlessly found ways to help her with each and every mess she’d landed herself in.
    â€œI need to do this alone, Will,” she said gently.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause it’s my problem.”
    He made a Gallic gesture. “How can my being there make it any worse? It’s already awkward and upsetting. And if I drive you, we’ll be able to cut and run and go get drunk on bad wine if it turns out wrong. Why not have some company if you’re going to be miserable?”
    â€œThat’s like saying you should get a tetanus shot if I’m stuck getting one. There are some things you shouldn’t ask someone else to share.”
    â€œDamn right. I’m not volunteering for the tetanus shot, so don’t even try asking.”
    â€œI wasn’t!”
    But somehow it all ended up just like he said. It was a long day of discovering Will was a manipulative son of a gun. He used charm and subterfuge and tricks—like ignoring her, or agreeing to something she’d said and then just bulldozing in the same direction he’d planned from the beginning, or kissing her every once in a while. Out of the blue. In a way that bamboozled her thought train so completely that she forgot whatever she’d been staunchly arguing about.
    Even before noon, Kelly had his newfound character flaws inked in her brain. Her mother loved quoting the old saying, make a fool of me once, shame on you…make a fool of me twice, shame on me. So Kelly planned to have her guard up tight before Will was ever successful with those underhanded methods again.
    But she changed her mind in the afternoon. Some of his underhanded, manipulative methods seemed to unexpectedly work out.
    By then, of course, they’d been to his work. She’d met Yves, his boss, a little guy with a fuzzy head of hair who treated Will like a god. And then there was the receptionist, Marie, who clearly ruled the office with gum-popping efficiency and a snappy tongue. There were only a handful