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“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.
“I thought I smelt human and I wasn’t wrong.” His voice was deep and pleasant. He had the same accent as Armand, too. He stuck out his hand. “My name is Hervé de Silvano, and you are…?”
Belle shook his hand before her mind realised what she was doing. “Isabelle Beaumont. But everybody calls me Belle.”
“The pretty name suits you well. Are you unattended?”
“Oh. I’m with somebody. Kinda.”
“Kinda?”
“She’s with me.” Armand’s voice cut sharp from behind her.
Belle turned around. Armand didn’t look happy with the newcomer. He gave the cup of tea to her, and then he placed a hand on her shoulder with possession.
“What are you doing here?” Armand asked Hervé.
“I should ask the same thing of you, cousin.” Hervé smiled at her. “I didn’t know you had a new plaything.”
Cousin? So the two of them were related?
“Now you know. If you don’t mind, we need our privacy.”
“Unfortunately, I do mind. I didn’t smell your scent on her. You haven’t claimed her.”
“Yet,” Armand replied brusquely.
“You know the rule of the house, cousin. The lady is still free to choose others until she’s properly claimed.” Hervé turn
ed back to her. “What is your pleasure, Belle?”
“What’s your price?” Belle seized the opportunity. If Maison Plaisir’s associates would hesitate in dealing with her because they’d seen her with Armand, his cousin probably wouldn’t.
“What’s the engagement?”
“I need a fake boyfriend, for several weeks.”
“It won’t come cheap. I want you, for at least six months.”
Damn. “Why can’t you just take money? I have fifty grand in my savings account. You can buy a new car.”
“Well, I don’t need money or a new car.”
Figures.
