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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.”
