Billionaire Romance: Darque Initiation (A Darque Billionaire Romance Book 1) (4 page)

The business date was on and Bella fretted with Alicia, wondering what might be appropriate to where in front of the man that knew far too much about you, and way too soon. Alicia suggested that Bella dress in something sexy, since Bastien was obviously hitting on her and not in the least bit interested in ‘business.’

But Bella objected to the thought. “I think he really wants to talk business. I told you, he resisted taking me to bed when I was drunk last night.”

“Yeah, but that’s what any decent guy would do, Bella. I think it’s probably hard for him to date, with who he is and everything. So maybe you need to be a little flirty and let him know it’s okay. That you’re not going to cry sexual harassment or anything.”

“I don’t even know what sexy is. I’m a journalist first and foremost. I think sexy is a weatherwoman dress.”

“I’ll fix you up, don’t worry. I think you ought to go for charming not desperate. Wear a necklace, something thick. Curly hair. And maybe showing off your shoulders. You have wonderful clavicles, you know.”

“I had no idea.”

“Really sexy. But at the same time, it’s formal. Like something you’d wear to an Oscar party. White I think is your color.”

“Why white?”

“White or light blue. I think that’s why Darque likes you. He likes your innocence.”

“Well, I’m not that innocent. You know, Bradley.”

“Bradley? Seriously? Trust me, dear, you’re still an innocent.”

Bella was made up and did look stunning as she arrived in the so-called Oscar dress, with a top that hugged her forearms and showed shoulders, but not too much cleavage. After all, she had to show her boss that she was business first. And hopefully only business, since she already proved she was a lightweight when it came to flirting.

Bella was informed by email that a car would pick her up. A limousine, in fact, and the driver was very friendly—no doubt paid well for the night. The car drove Bella back to Bastien’s place, just as she remembered, at the Watergate Complex. The most opulent penthouses this side of the Potomac, and a lifestyle that only the rich and powerful were accustomed to.

When she arrived, she ended up waiting on him, patiently standing in the guest library while the kitchen staff prepared the dining room. She refused a seat and a glass of wine by a staff member, opting instead to take the journalist’s view of the evening.

Then she started thinking—
why does Darque even need me here? Is this a test? Maybe he’s using the guise of a flirtatious dinner to test me. Or to appeal to the reporter that he knows I am. Maybe he wants to give me his side, his story. A better view of his family’s lifestyle. Or maybe he just wants me to feel better about how awful last night went. He was nice enough not to fire me. I have to give him that.

Bastien finally arrived, suited up and looking quite elegant, as if dressed for an appearance at the White House—and perhaps he might make that trip someday, if the project went well.

However, as soon as Bastien began speaking, the friendly air seemed to vanish. It wasn’t that he was overly formal, it was simply that Bella was unsure how to act and what to focus on. Was she a journalist? Was she a woman or just an intern here to learn?

Her instincts told her, that no matter what Bastien had in mind, good or evil, she had an obligation to report the truth.

“So, let’s talk about you,” he said carefully, pulling out the chair and helping her take a seat. “You’re a journalist. You want to make the world a better place.”

“Well, yes. Wouldn’t you say that’s what all young people want?”

“Perhaps the ones that take their careers seriously. What I like about you, Arabella, is that you are intent to play by the rules.” He took his seat.

“Well…yes. Isn’t that our obligation?”

“Our?” he said with a smile.

“Journalists. Politicians. The ones who shape the world.”

“Hmmm,” he said with a pained smile and a stifled laugh. “What do you know about my mother? The senator?”

“She’s ambitious, that’s for sure.”

“She is that. And one of the most arrogant and callous human beings who ever wanted that throne. And that’s saying a lot, isn’t it?”

“Well…” She couldn’t help but laugh. His brutal honesty caught her off guard, and the reporter in her took a break to enjoy a flirty laugh. Oh God, was she really flirting? With him?

“Your job is to make her look good. To sweep everything under the carpet. My job is…well, to love her anyway. Because that’s family.”

“Good point. But actually, my job at Haschell is to make you look good. That’s our priority. The senator will fight her own battles.”

“True. And do you think you have your work cut out for you?”

“Well…do you want the truth?”

“Why would I want anything but the truth, Arabella?”

“The truth…well, there have been lots of rumors. About…you.”

“What do they say about me?”

“Well…permission to speak freely.”

“Permission to speak honestly. Always.”

“There have been stories. About your…well, certain proclivities.”

“My proclivities? What does that mean?”

“Certain stories about the choices you make. Your social life.”

“You mean my sex life?” he said with a calm but grinning face.

“Yes, that’s our main area of concern.”

“Well everyone needs a social life. But you’re specifically saying that there’s something wrong with my sex life. Is that the truth?”

“Morally speaking, no. All I’m saying…”

“Well morally speaking, what are they saying? There’s nothing wrong with being single and unspoken for, is there Arabella?”

“Morally speaking, no. I guess the main focus is the stories we’ve heard about you…well, hurting women.”

“Hurting women?”

“Yes. Are you denying that?”

“Have I hurt you?”

“No, no you haven’t.”

“I admit to being…a man that is fascinated with beautiful woman. I am not monogamous by nature. I see something that I want, I take it.”

“Or her? In this case? You reach out and take HER, as if she were a thing.”

“In this case?” he said with a sly smile.

“I mean, not in this case!” she laughed. “I mean in terms of hurting women. You objectify them. You’re not what the press would call a nice guy, Bastien Darque.”

“Hmmm. No, I guess I’m not,” he said with a smile. “I don’t chase after the one woman who doesn’t want me. I don’t write love poetry for a certain someone, a soul mate who may exist somewhere on the other side of the planet who completely understands me.”

He lowered his visage and stared into her eyes. “I love women. The one I happen to meet in a club, or while touring a museum in an exotic country. The one standing right in front of me. The one who, Fate, as the poets might call it, brought to me. That’s who I like. I fear nothing. I love much. And beauty is my only weakness. The woman standing, sitting, in front of me has my attention. Is that a moral sin?”

“Well…proverbially speaking.”

“No, not proverbially speaking. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh come on.” she said with a laugh.

“Did I not tell you the first time we met? Even in your deplorable state, you still charmed me. Your eyes, your smile. Your… naïveté. Some people see it as a flaw. I see it as a trait, one that never dies…one that characterizes a person for their entire life. I don’t think of it as just naïveté. I think it’s better referred to as, believing in the best of people. Staying optimistic even in a world drained of morals.”

She giggled, and quickly quieted. She felt intrigued, flattered, maybe even excited at the prospect of such a big name interested in her. But he couldn’t mean it, could he? He had to be playing a game, or doing another test.

“I’m not from your world, Bastien. I’m interning. I’m from a middle class family. I’m…curvy. I’m just not your type of supermodel conquest.”

“And maybe that’s why I like you.”

She laughed, an extended laugh that Darque found amusing. She hid her eyes in the silverware and hummed with just a hint of a blushing face. “So…what are we having tonight?”

“Mediterranean, of course. I believe you shared that as a personal interest on your resume.”

“You saw that, huh?”

“I make it my business to know everything. That’s why I never finish last place, Arabella. You should know that by now.”

He smiled and the two new associates got comfortable with each other.

*****

Dinner was fantastic and the after meal wine was just the right balance of sweet and full-flavored. But Darque wasn’t much for drinking, and didn’t particularly like it when Bella suggested they needed more wine to continue their deep conversations. He later admitted that drinking too much tended to, “dull the senses…make people less inhibited, but less interesting.”

A little bit of wine went a long way. The edge taken off only helped to rid Bella of her fear of liking Darque, admiring him as something more than a boss. But she didn’t have enough wine to make a fool of herself, not like the first time. This time, she actually allowed herself to feel. To listen to his words. To experience the stories he was telling about rock climbing, traveling to Egypt, and riding horseback in London—all the very exciting things that made Bastien Darque a world traveler. A man who seemingly did everything and everyone, but who never became tired of life.

As the hours passed, Bastien noticed Bella’s eyes became darker. She stared more, she listened more closely. She didn’t deflect or reject compliments the longer the night went on. She started to believe him; that he really did like her and that she really could be his type.

Bastien made no false promises, never flattering a woman beyond what was ‘the truth’ of the moment. Never lying or cheating just to win. There was no winning, and this was no war. To Bastien, everything was a romance. Love, business, even working with new colleagues. It was just about two people connecting on a deeper level.

Bastien noticed the moment when she let her guard down—literally the moment she shifted the bodice of her dress, giving just the slightest hint of cleavage to look at. She was falling for him. It was the look he had seen many times before, but not from such a youthful and exuberant face. She believed in him. And that made him feel heavy in heart, perhaps even emotional.

He suggested they walk over to the study and talk more about her, less about politics. They moved over to the couch, enjoying the carefree atmosphere and dim lighting.

“But you’re cloaked in mystery, aren’t you?” Bella asked him, looking deeper into his eyes, the same sort of flirty grin she gave Bradley right before she lost her virginity. She wanted him, maybe against all logic and reason, but once he started talking…just the talking…was an erotic experience she didn’t want to end.

“People spin it as mystery. I see it merely as telling people all that I need to tell them. Never give more than is needed.”

“That’s so arrogant.” She laughed and gave him a tap on the shoulder. “I hold nothing back. Even in high school writing for the newspaper. Or interviewing someone. Sometimes drawing people out was just about asking questions. Talking. Relating to them on a human level.”

“You talk a lot because you overcompensate.”

“Oh?” she said with a head tilt backwards. “Why do you say that?”

“Probably low self-esteem. Which is a shame. Because I think you look amazing tonight.”

“Thank Alicia. The girl you saw me with? She dolled me all up nice and pretty.”

“No. Not Alicia. You. Your face. Your skin. Your eyes. There’s nothing artificial about natural beauty. You either have it or you don’t. And you have it.”

“And what is that?”

“Natural beauty. A strong almost instinctive signal you send to men. But not just any man. Only a man strong enough. Someone worthy of your attention.”

“You’re definitely worthy of attention, Bastien,” she said with a giggle. “I guess I admit I’m not used to hearing nice things. My mother and ex-boyfriend, Bradley…in case you didn’t know that…have always gotten on me about my weight. And being naturally tall…well, I just don’t feel like the type of girl you go for.”

“Because you’re not like other girls, are you?” he said, moving in closer.

She hesitated…feeling something strong for sure, but not nearly drunk enough to make a mistake.

“You’re like a flower. You’re radiant. Stunning. But you need to be nurtured. Treated like the rare and shining jewel that you are.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Look at me.” He waited until she gave him undivided attention. “I mean it.”

She tried to shy away but he was far too entranced with her face and those diamond eyes to let her go. “Come here.”

“I don’t think so…I don’t think we should…”

But within an instant, she forgot her qualms, losing herself in a monumental kiss. He kissed her tightly, dominantly, with vigor. His lips were thick but soft, perfectly caressing her smaller ones. His breath was minty and pure, perfectly chilled. The way he angled his face, matching hers was out of this world. It was easy to see why so many women wanted Bastien. But why did he want her?