My Billionaire Captor

It was such a far cry, she thought in amusement, from the first day Mr. Temps had shown her to her room.

But when Arabella entered her room and heard him speak-—

“Bonjour, ma belle.”

That was the moment Arabella had to catch her breath. It had been so for some time now, and she hated it but she also couldn’t help it. “Bonjour,” she said gruffly. Turning away from the shadows, she headed towards the bedside table and pretended to look for something inside the drawer when in truth, all she needed was time to regain her composure.

Nana’s sly teasing kept echoing in her mind, and Arabella’s teeth gnashed against each other. Nana was wrong. All of them were wrong. She was not excited to be with Aurélien, and it was certainly not true that she liked him.

Right?

When Arabella finally turned to face the shadows, she heard her mysterious billionaire ask, “Qu’est-ce qui se passé, ma belle?” His soft, accented words tickled her ears, and despite herself, she could feel a smile starting to tug at the corner of her lips. Fortunately, she caught herself in time and instead managed to ask irritably, “You know I don’t speak French, so why do you keep using it with me?”

“Because I know you have a fetish for it,” the beast answered simply.

“I do not!” Actually, she did, but the bad thing about it was that she had never known she had one – until she had heard him speak French.

“Je pense que c’est l’accent,” the beast murmured.

Inside her shoes, Arabella’s toes curled hard. Shit!

“I think,” the beast translated, “it’s the accent.” He then switched back to English, saying, “It is very sexy, oui?” This time, the beast exaggerated its accent for the last word.

Arabella’s lips slowly pursed before moving left and right.

The beast laughed. By now, it knew Arabella very well, and it certainly knew the reason behind that adorable gesture of hers. “Give it up, ma belle. What you are doing is useless.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking—-”

“No matter what you do,” the beast interrupted in a lazy drawl, “you will always find my charm irresistible.”

“T-that’s not true.” But Arabella’s rosy lips were moving faster from left to right now.

“I rest my case.”

“Oh, shut up.” But this time, Arabella could no longer fight off the smile tugging at her lips. Dammit, dammit – why did she find this man so charming?

“That’s better,” the beast said as her lovely face broke into a smile. “Come closer to the fire, Arabella.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Come closer, s’il vous plaît.”

And of course because he had used that magical accent of his, she found herself obeying his command. Even so, she muttered warningly, “Don’t think your accent will always get you what you want.”

To which she heard Aurélien answer oh so mildly, “Je comprends.”

Her teeth gnashed. It was beyond obvious he was just humoring her, the ass.

As she folded her legs under her on the settee, the billionaire invited her to tell him about her day and of course she automatically said no, just to be contrary. “How do I know if you’re not watching me all the time like a perv?”

The beast only chuckled. “It would be my pleasure to be a perv with you, ma belle, but unfortunately I, too, must work.” The beast studied her intently, noticing that her gaze was still faintly troubled. “Something still bothers you. Why will you not tell me?”

“Because I don’t know how to say it.”

“Just say the words,” the beast said gently, “and I will take care of the rest.” But still, Arabella remained quiet. After a moment, the beast hazarded a guess, asking, “Is it your father?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no. It’s not about him at all. Papa and I are okay, and I’m—-” She hesitated then admitted in a small voice, “When I asked you to let me speak to him last week, I didn’t really think you’d agree.”

“As long as it is within my power, ma belle, I will give it to you.”

“And I’m thankful, really thankful.” Her voice became just a little awkward. Arabella was only used to being affectionate with Maurice, but there was just something about Aurélien Sauvage that made her feel different. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to act sweet with him – and wasn’t that gross?

The beast was curious when Arabella suddenly started making faces. “Arabella?”

Oops. Realizing that she had lost herself in her thoughts, she said hastily, “Sorry, I was just…thinking about, umm, Maurice.”

“I see.” The beast didn’t believe a word of it, but he decided to humor her for now, knowing from experience that no amount of persuasion would get his Arabella to admit any vulnerability until she was ready – or she had no choice but to do so.

And usually, it was the latter.