Maison Plaisir (6 page)

The rest was a blur.

Belle didn’t remember what she did afterwards. Her anger had turned her blind. She was able to recollect herself again when she was in Hervé’s car. Her hands were shaking when Hervé started the engine.

“It’s over, love. Don’t be upset anymore,” he cooed.

All of a sudden, she wanted to cry. But instead, the only voice that came from her throat was a string of guttural rumbles. She quickly discovered it wasn’t a rumble. She was laughing.
 
A deep, rough laugh like an evil villain from the movies. “It’s over. It’s so damn over.”

“You okay, love?”

Okay? Besides the sudden anger she actually felt so much better than before. In fact, for the first time in her life, she had stood up for herself. Usually, she would’ve cowered if somebody like Trent forced his will on her. But tonight, she had actually stood up in front of him.

Belle turned to Hervé and grinned from ear to ear. “Never better.”

* * * *

Hervé slammed on the gas, sending his black and red Bugatti Veyron lurching from the driveway and into the street in a heartbeat. He couldn’t wait to leave this place. It reeked of the most obnoxious, hypocritical human he’d ever encountered. And those twin blondes. Hervé shuddered. They were malicious and cruel and as fake as their aesthetically enhanced exteriors. Hervé wondered how it was possible they were even related to her.

He stole a sidelong glance at Belle. She seemed more relaxed now the charade was over. Belle sat with her hands folded in her lap, looking demurely calm. She was one of those rare beauties who exuded grace and serenity to people surrounding her without even realising it. Unlike her loud-mouthed sisters.

Now he thought about it, Belle didn’t even resemble Clara and Sarah, or their mother. Belle had dark, reddish hair with green eyes and pale complexion. The twins and Maggie Beaumont had blonde hair, blue eyes, and salon-enhanced tanned skin. Maybe Belle had inherited her features from her father? Maggie had mentioned his name was Arthur. When they were in the house, Hervé tried looking for his photo. He didn’t find any.

Curious.

Hervé drove his car to the highway. Even though the night was still young, not many drivers were on the road. Endless rain had showered the city since morning, making everything wet, slick and cold. Hervé decelerated the car as they headed towards downtown. He felt relaxed now too. Maggie Beaumont had got on his nerves with her stupid drawl. And the dinner time was pure torture. The urge to snatch the man who broke Belle’s heart and rearrange his every bone was unbearable. Hervé hated the way Trent looked at Belle the whole time. He hated it when Trent dared to snatch her arm when she clearly didn’t want to talk to him.

He stole another glance at Belle, wondering if she’d mind if he paid Trent a visit and taught him a lesson for breaking her heart.

Belle caught him spying on her. “Thank you. For everything you did for me in there. I’ve never had someone defend me before.”

“I’m your boyfriend, right?”

She let out a wan smile. “You were very good in there. I think they’re buying it.”

He didn’t know about that. As a pure-blooded fae, Hervé had a gift to read a person, especially a human. Not exactly like a mind-reader, but he could see one’s temperament through that person’s eyes. Maggie Beaumont was filled with hatred. The twins brimmed with jealousy. And Trent Curtis simply bore ill desires for Belle. Hervé could even see fragment of Trent’s malicious thoughts about Belle. During dinner, Trent was imagining holding a pillow over Belle’s face while he ravaged her. Hervé was close to snatching Trent’s head and breaking his neck.

Bastard.

“Is your uncle who owns a vineyard the same one who owns Maison Plaisir?” Belle suddenly asked.

“How did you guess?”

“Just thinking about what Armand said. Why Maison Plaisir?”

“You mean why does he own an ill-reputed establishment when he already has a legitimate business?”

“If you put it that way.”

“My uncle opened Maison Plaisir for his wife. It’s a wedding gift, I’ve heard.”

“Very strange wedding gift.”

Hervé smiled simply. Not that strange in fae’s society. Seventh Realm’s faes were infamous for their sexual appetites. Giving their loved one unlimited pleasure was a common token of affection. “Are you hungry? I noticed you didn’t quite enjoy the dinner.”

“I can’t stand hot peppers.”

“Then why did your mother say you love Thai food?”

“I don’t. She served it because she knows I hated it.”

“Charming woman.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Has she always been that way?”

Belle paused for a moment. “I guess so. But she got worse after my father died.”

So Arthur Beaumont had died. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be. I’m much happier now I live by myself.”

He wanted to know more about her, but he refrained from asking too many questions. She’d had enough unpleasantness for the night. “Want to have a real dinner?”

“Sure.”

“What are you in the mood for? I know an excellent restaurant, Alinea. It’s only a forty-five-minute drive from here.”

“That fancy place? Don’t you need a reservation for months before or something?”

“I know somebody I could bribe.”

Her smile widened. “I’m actually in the mood for low-brow stuff.”

“Oh?”

“Foot-long hotdog with sauerkraut at Jimmy’s.”

“Then hotdogs it is.”

“I’m a cheap date, aren’t I?”

Hervé laughed. He didn’t expect to see the humorous side of her. Or her humility. Isabelle Beaumont intrigued him more by the minute. The hell he would surrender his claim to Armand.

Not this time.

* * * *

Belle ate her hotdog with gusto. It was loaded with ketchup, mayo, relish, and tons of sauerkraut—it almost overfilled the bun. She put layers of napkins on her lap to catch any dripping from her fingers. She didn’t want to make a mess in Hervé’s expensive car.

Jimmy’s Hotdog Heaven was rather deserted from the rain. They parked a few feet from the shoddy roadside stand. The hotdog was her main diet when she left home because it was the only thing she could afford. Her mother had cut her off from her allowance as a way of controlling her. But her mother had never guessed Belle was determined to never come back. Luckily, Belle had a little savings that allowed her to rent a cheap apartment for a few months until she got everything sorted out. She dropped out from the private institute she’d attended with her sisters, and traded it with night school so she could work full-time during the day. Usually, right after class, she stopped at Jimmy’s to eat her dinner, breakfast, and sometimes lunch combined. She saved a great deal of money that way.

Hervé ate his hotdog without being finicky. Belle was surprised he would actually eat such peasant food. A guy like him must be accustomed to eating only the best of the best from gold-trimmed china and drinking a bottle of wine that cost a week’s wage for ordinary people. Belle hoped the hotdog wouldn’t give him a stomach upset afterwards.

“How was it?” she asked Hervé.

“Interesting.” Hervé chewed his food with a serious face. “I’ve never thought the saltiness of the meat complimented the sourness of the fermented cabbage nicely.”

At least he didn’t try to lie. Belle appreciated his honesty. “Have you eaten this before?”

“I can’t recall. I might have, but I can’t be sure. Is this your favourite food?”

“You can say that.”

“What else do you like?”

“What I like? Food? Oh, I’m easy. I eat everything—well, except spicy stuff that burns my mouth.”

“I see that. What do you do in your spare time?”

“Work or studying. I’m boring, aren’t I?”

Hervé set down his half-eaten dog and regarded her thoughtfully. “You just don’t find time to indulge yourself. You’ve been working very hard since you were young.”

“Starvation is a great motivator,” Belle joked, but Hervé didn’t laugh with her. Instead, he stared at her with great concern.

“You didn’t deserve such hardship,” Hervé muttered, wiping his hands with his napkins. “I feel like I didn’t treat you well tonight. How about dinner, tomorrow? Same time?”

“You mean, like another date?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“I’m taken with you, Belle. I’d be honoured if you allow me a chance to get to know you better…”

Belle pondered. “Wouldn’t it better if I paid you your price and left it at that? A night of pleasure, just like I paid Armand?”

“I didn’t volunteer as my cousin’s replacement because I wanted to sleep with you.”

“So what you did for me tonight is a freebie?”

A faint smile hovered on the corner of his lips. “I’m a man and I love sex. But I want more than just sex. I want a relationship.”

She was flattered of his intention, but at the same time, it made her wary. She didn’t need a lover. She was content on her own, living her simple, uncomplicated life. Men came and went. Especially good-looking ones like Hervé or Armand. Considering the promise he’d made, Armand still blackballed her. And she thought they had shared something special, something magical. Guess she was wrong. Belle cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I’m not ready for one.”

Hervé fell into silence. “Do you like Armand better?”

She was startled. “Your cousin’s blackballing me. I don’t think I’m his best interest at the moment.”

Something flashed in Hervé’s eyes.

“Let’s get this over with. My place or yours? Or do you want to call this even?”

“You need me. Your family know I’m your boyfriend.”

“Actually, I don’t care about it anymore.” Belle drew a long breath, suppressing her anger that her mother had hatched a devious plan to get her under her thumb again. Belle realised why her mother also invited Trent to the dinner party. Knowing she wasn’t very social, her mother and her sisters wanted to ridicule her boyfriend and pressure her to accept the engagement with Trent. Only they didn’t expect she would show up with someone like Hervé, who happened to be a significant somebody in the rich socialites’ circle.

Hervé was right. This whole thing must be a sham. After cold-heartedly dumping her years ago, why would Trent suddenly agree to be her fiancé? Her best guess was this was nothing but her sisters’ prank. Clara and Sarah must have been bored, and they couldn’t help themselves planning a nice trick for a good laugh. Trent had lost a wager to them before. She wouldn’t be surprised if it had happened again, and this time, it involved their mother, too.

But she wouldn’t fall into their game again. She wouldn’t care if her mother got mad because she disobeyed her. She was an adult now, and she had a nice life she’d achieved without her family’s help. Her mother couldn’t tell her what she could or could not do any more.

And as for Hervé, Belle thought it best if she settled her debt and returned to her quiet life. A guy like him didn’t fit into her future. Not in a million years. If his cousin could blackball her after everything he’d promised, there was no guarantee Hervé wouldn’t do the same thing. She held Hervé’s gaze evenly. “I don’t want to continue this charade anymore.”

 
“You’re going to accept your engagement with Trent?” Hervé’s voice sounded as scandalised as the expression on his face.

“Hell no! Not even when hell freezes over. I’m going to tell my mother to leave me alone from now.”

“You’re really going to do that?”

“I can’t run away forever, can I? I must stand up for myself and not let her walk all over me ever again. I’ve been a coward all these years.”

“You’re not a coward.”

Belle sniffed. She hadn’t been anything but. “So. Should we call this even, then?”

It took him a while to answer. Hervé finally tore his gaze from her and cleaned the remnants of the hotdog, putting them all in the paper bag that came with it. “My place.”

His place it is
.

Chapter Four

The air between them changed right after she agreed to give her body to Hervé for the night. There was a tension, silent and tight like an overly stretched harp string waiting to snap. Belle stole a glance at him. Hervé looked serious and determined as he slammed on the gas on his ultra-expensive car, driving home like a NASCAR racer.
What did I do? Is he mad at me because I wasn’t interested in becoming his girlfriend?

His lips thinned into a grim line as he stopped at the traffic light. His eyes caught hers. The shimmering glimmer was back. The unsettling aura. His eyes looked luminous, like the first time she saw him in Maison Plaisir.

“My cousin wants you badly, love. And so do I. I’ll take what was meant to be mine tonight, but don’t ask me to back away that easy,” he told her.

Armand wants me?
Belle found it peculiar.
If he really wants me, then
w
hy can’t he keep himself sober?
“What did you see in me, anyway?” she murmured. “I’m nobody.”

The light went green. Hervé hit the pedal. “On the contrary, I see a lot in you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be bothered in chasing you. Trust me, I don’t usually do this.”

Oh, Belle believed him. A guy like Hervé was practically a chick magnet. He could dress in rags and drive a half-wrecked car and chicks would still be all over him. What she didn’t understand was why he wanted her in the first place? Was he jealous because his cousin had had some and he hadn’t?

Hervé glanced at her. His face looked stern. “I’m not like Trent, if that’s what you were afraid of.”

“I don’t think you are.”

“But you were thinking about it.”

A sliver of guilt skated through her. “How did you know? Are you a mind reader?”

“Love, you’d be surprised what I’m capable of.”

Hah. A man of mystery.
Belle slipped into a quiet mood for the rest of the drive, thinking about what Hervé had said. It just didn’t make sense. Why Hervé and Armand were fighting over her? It almost sounded like a bad joke. At least, her sisters would think so. Two extremely hot guys. Competing over her. Yeah, right. She decided that Hervé probably wanted to humour her after the botched dinner party. He knew how rattled she was from the whole ordeal. About her mother’s scheme and Trent.