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.”