Maison Plaisir (2 page)

Belle this. Belle that.

On her eighteenth birthday, Belle had had enough and decided to move out. She had worked various full- and part-time jobs to support herself and put herself into college. After she graduated, she’d got herself a nice job in an advertising company as a graphic designer, where she could afford a better apartment and a better future. Belle thought severing her ties with her family years ago would keep them away from her life. She was wrong. About two weeks ago, her mother had showed up in her apartment and demanded she find a future son-in-law. If she didn’t have anybody, her mother would choose one for her.

Having to work hard to make ends meet and studying hard all the time, her love life was practically non-existent. Besides, one bad incident when she was a teenager had made her wary of man. Belle was mortified when her mother announced she was going to arrange her engagement with Trent Curtis, a childhood acquaintance and family close friend.

Trent was a walking, talking nightmare.

He was actually her twin sisters’ classmate, a popular boy at school who Belle had a secret crush on. When Trent suddenly showed interest in her, Belle innocently believed that sometimes, dreams did come true. Trent was everything a teenage girl could ever want in a boyfriend. They dated for a week before Trent convinced her to surrender her virginity to him. Belle gave up her innocence. But to her dismay, Trent dumped her without a second glance. Belle found out Trent had taken her as his girlfriend because he’d lost a bet with Belle’s twin sisters, Clara and Sarah and after years of putting up with the twins’ crap and pranks, she’d decided she’d had enough. The next day, Belle left everything behind and never looked back.

Knowing her mother wanted to play matchmaking with the man she loathed to the bones, Belle made up an excuse that she was seeing somebody seriously. Her mother didn’t believe her and demanded to meet him at a family dinner. Belle couldn’t find a way out of it and half-heartedly agreed. Now, the only thing she could do was get a fake boyfriend.

The very reason she had wandered in to Maison Plaisir.

Belle drew a deep breath and clutched the edge of her skirt. Her gaze drifted around the Common Hall, observing the festivities.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

A warm, buttery sound startled Belle from her reverie. She quickly turned to the source of that voice. A gasp stifled in her throat. The owner of the voice was the most striking looking man she’d ever met in person.

He was tall, well built, and dressed all in black. Unlike the others, he wasn’t wearing any costume. The man was wrapped in a black sport jacket with matching pants, and from the look of it, they were definitely designer pieces. His hair looked like burnished copper, cut short, complimenting his tanned skin deliciously. But one thing that captivated her the most was his eyes. He had such gorgeous eyes—eyes she could lose herself in if she stared at them too long.

He stuck his hand out, beaming. “Name is Armand Shah. Are you unattended?”

Dreamily, Belle shook his hand. “Unattended?” she echoed.

“Is someone with you? I don’t think so. I saw you coming with Madame Chabert earlier.”

“Y-yes.” Belle wanted to pull her hand away but he didn’t let her go. Her heart pounded; her pulse was racing. There was something unsettling about him. Belle couldn’t find the right word to describe him. Armand was handsome and glimmering.

Regular men just don’t glimmer.

She gulped. After a few moments of awkwardness, Belle forced herself to yank her hand from his grip. He released it half-heartedly.

“I take it this is your first visit to Maison Plaisir?” Armand settled himself next to her. His knees brushed hers.

Her heart beat faster. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name. You are…?”

“Belle. Isabelle Beaumont. Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr Shah.”

“Acquaintance? I was thinking we could be more intimate than just acquaintances,
ma belle
Belle. So. What is your pleasure?”

“I a-actually…”

“My lord Shah.” Madame Chabert’s voice interrupted her stammers. “I see you already met Miss Beaumont. She’s new.
And very special
.” Chabert put the teacup on the coffee table.

Armand winked. “I can see that. It’s a rare treat for someone like her to wander into here.”

“I called it fate. Everything happens for a reason,” Chabert agreed.

“Indeed.” Armand lifted the teacup and offered it to Belle. “Try it. It’s Maison Plaisir’s special brew. A special blend between Darjeeling and Tieguanyin tea, and also some secret herbs. Perfect to soothe even the most stubborn anxiety.”

How did he know she was nervous? Was she that easy to read? Belle took the cup and sipped it.
Wow
. Armand wasn’t kidding. It was the best tea she’d ever tasted. She’d never come across anything like it and she was a tea snob.

“Excellent, isn’t it?” Armand turned to Chabert. “I’ll take it from here, Madame.”

Chabert patted Belle’s hand dotingly. “Enjoy the night, dearie.”

“Thank you,” Belle replied.

Armand spread a hand. “Shall I show you around? What are you in the mood for tonight?”

She put the teacup back on the coffee table. “I actually wasn’t looking for something like that.”

“Oh?”

“I want to hire an escort, probably for several weeks.” Belle paused for a moment before telling Armand the purpose of her visit. He listened attentively.

“A fake boyfriend. Interesting.”

“Can you do it?”

“Can I? I’d be happy to.”

“How much do you charge?”

Armand’s smile widened. “An arm and a leg.”

“Seriously?”

“Make a pact with me and I’ll grant your wish.”

“I…I don’t understand what you mean.”

He rose from the sofa, offering his hand. “Come with me. I’ll show you what I want.”

* * * *

Armand Shah, the Duke of Seventh Realm, couldn’t believe what he saw when Madame Chabert came to the Common Hall with a human woman. He didn’t know how Belle could wander past the barrier between the human world and the spirits. Especially in a place like Maison Plaisir, where the perimeter had been tightly warded with spells and protections against unwanted pests. Some gifted humans like witches and mediums were able to see his kind. But Belle didn’t fall into the latter category. She was just an ordinary human woman.

Pretty little thing, too.

A
very
pretty little thing. She was slim and delicate, but her body curved in all the right places. Her green eyes looked like precious jade, large and oval shaped, shielded with long, lush lashes. She had a pert nose and soft pink lips he couldn’t wait to kiss. Her dark, reddish hair was long and straight, and it looked so soft to touch. She didn’t wear makeup. Didn’t need to. Belle was a natural beauty.

Just his type.

His uncle, who owned this pleasure house, was also fronting a mirror establishment in the human world, but it catered exclusively to those with appetites for unorthodox pleasure. Uncle Isaac had taken a human consort who refused to live in Seventh Realm. To make things easier for her to travel between worlds, Uncle Isaac had started this establishment several years ago as a doorway to the Unseen. Unlike the otherworldly beings, humans couldn’t see the other worlds, let alone pass back and forth between them. Only a human who had been claimed by the otherworldly beings was able to sieve through the barrier. Belle had just wandered in.

Innocently.

Madame Chabert had called it fate. Maybe she was right. Armand wouldn’t have met Belle if this wasn’t fate.

He took Belle’s hand and led her through the sea of Maison Plaisir patrons. Her delicate hand felt so small. She was a petite woman. Young, too. Even by human standards. Armand usually disliked fragile looking woman, but there was something about her that drew him instantly. Even though her smile could stop a man’s heartbeat for a second, Belle had the perpetual sad eyes that elicited the protective urge in him. She reminded Armand of someone dear to him a long time ago—his dead fiancée, Minette.

Belle followed him quietly as they ascended the stairs to the second floor. Armand stole another glance at her. Those eyes. Her beautiful eyes might have fooled everybody into thinking she was a free-spirited girl, but Armand had a knack of looking through a person’s windows to their soul. Belle looked to be someone who had been living her sorrow in silence for a long time.
Who hurt you? What could you possibly have done to deserve it?

“Where are we going?” Belle asked.

“Showing you what Maison Plaisir has to offer.”

“B-but I already told you what I wanted.”

“Yes. But I haven’t told you what I want.” Armand tugged her hand. They walked into the heart of Maison Plaisir, where the most talented courtesans—or associates, as the management preferred to call them—entertained the wealthiest folks in Seventh Realm.

Belle stalked nervously beside him, looking uncomfortable with her surroundings. Judging from her expression, she wasn’t accustomed to being in places like this. Armand became curious.
Could she possibly be a virgin?

They arrived in a spacious circular room with seven towering doors. Each of the doors was an entry to each level of Maison Plaisir. “We are now in the Eye of the Lounge,” Armand explained. “Nothing is forbidden in Maison Plaisir. All pleasures are meant to be explored and all taboos are meant to be broken.”

“What has that to do with my request?”

“You want a fake boyfriend and such engagement won’t come cheap. I’ll be your boyfriend, but in return, you have to pay me with one pleasure of your choosing.”

Belle blanched. “You mean…I have to sleep with you?”

“That’s my price.”

“I…” She stepped back. Her face turned magenta. “Why can’t you just ask for money?”

“I don’t need money.”

“Then why do you work here if you’re so loaded?” Her accusing tone sounded desperate.

“I’m not an associate, beauty. My uncle owns this place.”

“Oh God.” Belle pondered. “I…I didn’t know about that.”

“You want something from me and you’ve got something I want. I think that’s an even trade. I can be your boyfriend as long as you want.” Armand leant forward. “And I’m good at it. You won’t be disappointed.”

Belle held her gaze on him evenly. “Your price is steep. I need to ask your other associates.”

So predictable
, Armand mused
. Sad-eyed beauty, all I want is to please you and put the smile back on your face
. “You may try, but I highly doubt they will make a pact with you. They’ve seen you with me, and they know better than to dally with the owner’s nephew’s lady.”

Her lips thinned in an instant.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Belle. Pleasure and your companionship is all I want.” Armand steered her to the left side of the lounge, into door number one. “I’m not going to demand anything that you’re not comfortable with. Have a look. This is Level One, catering to our hetero guests who prefer traditional pleasures.” Armand gestured at the viewing glass on the door. Most activities in each level in Maison Plaisir could be observed through the rectangular enchanted mirror. Some patrons loved to share their pleasure with voyeurs and they had their kicks being watched while they engaged in intimate activities. Belle gasped when she saw men and women sprawled across the floor in various stages of pleasure, being serviced by two or three of Maison Plaisir’s associates.

She threw him a dirty look. “You call this traditional pleasure?”

“I believe this is what you call vanilla sex, is that what your people say?” Armand urged her to walk to door number two.

Belle cringed as soon as she saw the action on the viewing panel. Her discomfiture was so obvious.

Armand couldn’t help but cock a naughty smile. “Level Two caters for guests who prefer male to male interaction. But this is not what I had in mind with you. I just want to show it to you. Just in case you like to participate as a voyeur.”

“I’ll pass.”

“If you like women, you’re welcome to Level Three.”

“I’ll pass that too.”

“You’re so easy to predict.” Armand dragged her to door number four. “In here”—Armand tapped his finger to the mirror”—”we cater to our guests who crave discipline and pain.”

“Er…being whipped as foreplay is not my idea of pleasure.”

“So you agree to my terms?”

“I didn’t say that!”

Armand laughed. “Levels Five, Six and Seven cater to our guests who prefer unconventional pleasure. Edge play.”

“Edge play? Wait, I don’t want to know.”

“Well?”

Belle looked torn. “I…I don’t know. I need to think.”

“Why don’t you have a seat while I get you something to drink? You look as if you need more tea. Are you hungry?”

“No.” Belle trudged to a nearby chair. She sank herself in it. Her green eyes looked lost. She threw her long hair onto her back and folded her hands in her lap with caution.

She’s nervous.

“Wait here. I’ll be back with your tea.” Armand strode from the Eye of the Lounge to fetch her some tea from the kitchen. When he came back, he found Belle wasn’t alone. He ground his teeth, irritated. Not again.

Hervé.

Chapter Two

The man was blond.

So blond that he was aesthetically golden all around, shimmering in an unsettling aura.
A golden god.
Belle was awed. He wore his hair long and wavy—it fell on his back like filaments of spun gold. His eyes were as light as morning sunshine. Sharp, intelligent and mysterious. One look and Belle felt naked and vulnerable under his wickedly luminous gaze.

He had high cheekbones. A perfectly curved nose. Sensuous lips that quirked into a perpetual smile. His beauty was somewhat…inhuman. The man was tall and fit, oddly dressed all in black, like Armand. Belle found she couldn’t take her eyes off him. And he came out of nowhere. One second, Belle was studying her shoes and the next, he just loomed before her, stooping and watching her with fervent curiosity.