Armand patted her shoulder. “And all I asked for was a night of pleasure.”
“Wait, that’s not fair. Let’s talk about it,” Hervé said.
“Your Highness.” Madame Chabert’s voice interrupted him. She stood at the entrance of the lounge. “You have visitors.”
Belle blinked. Your Highness? Hervé’s royalty?
Hervé waved his hand, dismissing the hostess. “They can wait. I’m busy.”
“It’s important,” Chabert insisted.
Hervé cursed. “I’ll be back, Belle. Stay put.” He gave Armand a cross look and stalked off towards the hostess.
Belle watched Hervé leaving with awe. She wasn’t surprised he was a blue-blood. Everything about him was so refined. She wondered which country he came from. Somewhere in Europe? She couldn’t identify his accent.
“Well?” Armand tugged her face up. “Would you rather make a pact with my cousin, or with me?”
“I…”
“I won’t disappoint you. I’ll be there for you every time you need me. Night and day. Hail or sunshine.”
Whoa. Even a real boyfriend didn’t come with a weather-proof guarantee. “You sure you don’t want cash?”
“What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not good in bed.”
“I’ll teach you a few tricks.”
She bit her lower lip. The nervousness returned. Why couldn’t he be like a regular escort who’d be happy to take cash for the service he rendered? After Trent had dumped her she’d promised herself to never give her body to any man ever again. It took her a long time to get over the humiliation. Every now and then, when she thought about that jerk, she still couldn’t shed off the regret for being so stupid. Armand was an extremely good-looking man. She was afraid she might fall for him if she allowed him a night of intimacy. Heartache was something she didn’t want to go through ever again.
Being dumped sucked.
Armand furrowed his lush eyebrows. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Biting your lip. You’re bleeding.”
“Really?” Belle wanted to wipe it.
Armand halted her. “Allow me.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers.
Belle stiffened. What is he doing? She tried to push him away but suddenly she felt his large hands firmly planted on the back of her head, anchoring her to stay still as he kissed her deeply. The salty, coppery taste of her own blood flooded her palate when Armand pried open her mouth with his tongue. She wanted to protest, but her attempt evaporated in her throat. Armand kissed like he meant it. Demanding. Passionate. “Armand…”
He muffled her with his kiss.
Heat surged through her veins. Heart pounded. Nipples hardened. Before long, she burned with arousal. It shocked her. She’d been frigid since the night Trent dumped her. But this man, a stranger she barely knew, swept her into a brimstone of lust with just a simple kiss. She felt lightheaded when he finally gave her the chance to catch a breath.
“There,” he murmured. His eyes fixed on her lips. “Don’t bite your lip.”
“O-okay,” she slurred like a drunk.
Armand held her face steadily. His thumbs brushed over her lips. “Will you make a pact with me?”
Her common sense urged her to think this over carefully, but her body demanded otherwise. Belle wanted to ask for more time to think, but the word that came from her mouth was, “Yes.”
“Good.” He beamed. “You won’t be disappointed, Belle.”