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“Why would your mother want you to marry him?”
“That, I really don’t know. I haven’t spoken to my mother in years and suddenly, she showed up and demanded I got married.”
“Don’t you think it’s kind of suspicious?”
“You think so?”
Goddess, this woman was also gullible. “Yes. It is suspicious.”
“I thought, knowing my mother, she just wanted to see me miserable.”
Hervé caressed her cheek. “Let’s put on a nice show for your family tonight.”
“Thank you.” Belle paused. “This means I’ll be troubling you in the future too. I hope not, but I have a feeling everything won’t come as simple as this.”
“I don’t mind, love. You can count on me. I love a little payback myself.”
A smile lit up her face.
Hervé resisted an urge to kiss her. Not yet. He didn’t want to scare her. “Ready to go?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Her mother looked shocked when she saw Hervé introducing himself as her boyfriend. Her sisters as well. Belle had a feeling they didn’t believe the charade she was trying to pull off. Hervé was too handsome. Too elegant. Too cultured and exotic right down to his seductive foreign accent. Meanwhile, she was nobody, skinny, plain and awkward. The two didn’t belong together. Not in a million years.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch your last name. De Silvano?” her mother asked.
“That’s correct, Mrs Beaumont. Hervé de Silvano.”
“Any chance you are related to the de Silvano who owns that famous vineyard in Napa?”
“How did you know?” Hervé replied good-naturedly. “Isaac de Silvano is my uncle. In fact, I’ve brought you some vintage wine from our special cellar. These have won quite a few awards, our family’s pride.”
Her mother accepted the gifts as if they were a king’s ransom. “Thank you.”
One of her twin sisters seized Hervé’s hand and shook it vigorously. The twins had been ogling him like a pack of hungry coyotes since they arrived. “I’m Clara, Belle’s sister. She’d never told us about you before.”
No, because you’d never asked. Belle schooled a blank expression. Ever since she’d lived on her own, her sisters only called her when they wanted to rub something in. The twins had never been interested in anything but themselves. They loved the sound of their own voices. And it’d always been that way ever since they were little. Clara and Sarah had been the apples of her mother’s eye, while Belle was an ugly duckling she couldn’t stand to look at.
“How did you two meet?” Sarah asked. “I know my little sister doesn’t have many friends.”
“That’s rude, Sarah,” her mother reprimanded.
Hervé wrapped an arm around Belle and gave her a kiss on top of her head. “We met at a company gala. She was the prettiest girl at the party, yet she was sitting alone like a lost little lamb. I just had to say hello. And after we talked, we just clicked.”
Sarah cringed. Clara gave Hervé a look Belle knew all too well. Her sister must think Hervé had lost his mind to consider Belle pretty.
“Let’s all go in. We don’t want the dinner to get cold, do we?” Her mother played the good hostess. She beamed at Belle. “Marceu has prepared your favourite Thai food for dinner tonight.”
Belle thinned her lips. Mother knew she hated spicy food.
They strolled past the parlour and into the dining room. Belle glanced at her surroundings. She hadn’t stepped into this mansion for years, ever since that fateful night. A shiver crept at the base of her skull. This place offered her nothing but misery.
As they entered the dining room, her heart froze in her chest when she saw a ghost from the past. Belle couldn’t believe what her mother was doing.
Trent Curtis.
In the dining room. Sitting by the end of a long table, sipping brandy without a care in the world.
