Billionaire Romance: Darque Initiation (A Darque Billionaire Romance Book 1) Read online

  Defeated and unable to finish his great speech about anything, Bradley decided to go out and have a drink himself to wash away the pain and humiliation that was the public relations industry. But probably not at Ultrabar. The Gibson sounded a little more inviting.

  *****

  Chapter 3

  “Oh Jesus!” yelled Bella, laughing all the way to the ‘bank,’ speaking of the converted club, and gloriously drunk with her roommate.

  “You’re finally starting to lighten up,” Alicia said. “All it takes is five shots to get that stick up your ass removed.

  “Eew!” Bella laughed.

  “And if you get any drunker, you might just have another stick shoved up there.”

  “That is gross! I am not that drunk, nor will I ever be,” Bella said with a friendly shoulder slap.

  “Hey, do you notice that guy over there is looking at you?” Alicia said, pointing to a well-dressed man entering the club and surveying the levels.

  “Oh wow. He is hot. Shit! Maybe I’m loaded but he gives me a lady boner,” she said with a hearty laugh.

  “Whoa, whoa. Look out, you really are drunk! You ought to talk to him. Have a little fun. You’re in the shadows, remember? You have no political career.” She winked.

  “Don’t look! He’s looking this way!” Bella said, stroking her hair and averting her eyes.

  “What’s the big deal? Just go introduce yourself.”

  “No way.”

  “Why not? Want me to bring him over?”

  “No! Don’t you dare. He doesn’t want girls like us. Trust me.”

  “What’s wrong with girls like us?”

  “Then you go for it. You’re probably more his type than I am.”

  Just as the two girls were inconspicuously—or not so much—checking out the local celebrity, they felt an intrusive tap on the shoulder.

  “Hey!” the man said. He fell short of Bastien’s height, complexion, and charm, and, well, most of everything. “You two girls look drunk.”

  “Yeah, it’s a bar, genius,” Alicia said in passing.

  “So I don’t even have to buy you a drink to get you wasted.”

  “What?” Alicia said with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m just trying to make conversation.”

  “Well, try somewhere else!” Alicia snapped.

  “I wasn’t talking to you, plain Jane. I was talking to your friend.”

  “Oh…uh…” Bella shook her head and blushed. “I have a boyfriend.”

  “Okay. But you’re still here. And I’m still here,” the guy said with a sneer. “So want to dance? Or make out, if that’s too slow for you.”

  “Sorry, I really don’t do that. Boyfriend and all.”

  “You do not have a boyfriend. I’m a lawyer, you know. I can tell when people are lying.”

  “Ugh!” Alicia fired back. “That makes perfect sense. I hate lawyers.”

  “You just hate Jews,” the guy said pushing buttons everywhere he could. “But I’d still date a racist.”

  “Oh my God,” Alicia laughed. “I hate rude people, mmmkay? Please get lost. Pretty please.”

  “We’re really not looking tonight,” Bella said to him with a polite smile.

  They were so distracted with the intruder they hardly noticed that Bastien found them and was already walking over to say hello. Just as they went to look for him, he was there, smiling and holding a drink.

  “Oh, God!” Bella blurted out, blushing twice as hard. “Hi! Hi there…hi!” She shook her head and laughed in embarrassment.

  “Hi, I couldn’t help but notice you were looking in my direction,” he said with a nod and smile. His look was intense. Focused, downright smoldering compared to the impish little look from the other guy, who still wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  “Shit!” Alicia laughed. “Oh my God, I know who you are.”

  Bella cracked up. “Alicia, stop! That is so a cheesy pickup line.”

  “No, really. You don’t recognize him?”

  “No. Oh wait, did you play Orlando Bloom’s butt double?” She tittered away. “Sorry. I warned you, I’m a little drunk.”

  “A little?” Alicia laughed.

  Bella covered her face, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

  “Hey buddy,” the persistent lawyer said, still fighting to stay in the game. “I think they’re calling your name on the news. This party is already spoken for.”

  “The news? What are you guys talking about?” Bella said, not quite getting the ‘joke.’ Or more specifically, the truth—that she was in fact talking to her new client / boss and was making a glorious fool of herself.

  “Says who?” Alicia said, fuming.

  “Well let’s let the women decide,” Darque said, eyeing his competitor and standing his ground. “Would you ladies prefer I go away or Mister Lawyer here?” he said drolly, having overheard the man’s conversation.

  Bella finally lifted her gaze to meet Bastien’s, tilting her head and begging for help getting rid of Mister Slick.

  “It would appear I won this duel, friend. Go buy yourself a drink. Maybe you’ll start to look attractive to someone, the more you drink, eh?”

  Alicia laughed. “Not likely!”

  “Screw you,” the man said bitterly. “Good luck on your failing campaign, by the way.”

  He almost glanced back at the man, but denied him a full turn. He smiled at Bella.

  “What? What is he talking about?” Bella said with a confused grimace. “Hey,” she said, finally working up the nerve to talk at him, if not to him. “Thanks for getting rid of that creep for us.”

  “Wasn’t a favor, Arabella,” he said looking in the eye and smiling. “Just a fair battle for your attention. I won, he lost.” He smiled.

  “Oh, my God. How did you know my name?”

  Alicia and Bastien looked at each other and smiled.

  “Am I that drunk? Did you totally just tell me your name and I forgot it?”

  “Honey,” Alicia started to explain. “This is…”

  Bastien shook it off with a rise of his hand. “All right, then. Let’s start over. What is your name, my lovely lady?”

  “Ahh…” She blushed again. “My name is Bella.”

  “Arabella. That’s your full name. Correct?”

  “Yeah…you’re smart. I feel like I know you!” Bella laughed again, thinking she was doing a pretty swell job at randomly flirting with strangers.

  Alicia, however, was mortified that Bella was blowing it with her new boss. It seemed everyone in the club, including the creepy lawyer guy, knew who Bastien Darque was—except Bella, who worked for him. She may have known his name and hated the idea of him ruining her career ambitions, but damned if she knew the man’s face.

  “Anyway, you should go now, too,” Bella said, grooming herself and downing another drink.

  “Excuse me?” Bastien said, always amused when a woman actually rejected his attention; it was such a rare event for him.

  “Yeah. I’m drunk. And I have a boyfriend. I think. And plus…you know, you’re kind of wasting your time.”

  “Wasting my time?” Bastien asked, still smiling and intrigued.

  “Oh God,” Alicia said, freaking out and raising her hands in protest. “I can’t watch this.” She stood up and walked away. “Call me when you’re ready to go, Bella. I’m going to dance…or something.”

  “Wait!” Bella said with a laugh, watching a scandalized Alicia head over to the dance floor.

  “It’s okay, I’ll take care of her. We take care of our colleagues, don’t we?” Bastien said to Alicia.

  “So we’re colleagues now?”

  Bastien smiled and nodded, tickled by her obliviousness as to fame and politics. Maybe that’s the quality he found most enduring in her. Not her naïveté, as they called it, but her innocence.

  “Anyway, I think you should go. I’ll probably call a cab. Let Alicia enjoy herself. I’m too old to need a babysitter.�
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  “Why do you keep trying to get rid of me?” he said, not losing his friendly disposition.

  “Because,” Bella said with a big smile. “You know. You’re hot. You’re like really cute.”

  “Yes. And?”

  She snorted and laughed with her head down to the table. She sat back up and met his eyes. “And you need to go out to that dance floor and find another hot girl.”

  “But not you?”

  “Me? Noooo!” She laughed. “I’m not hot. Are you blind? My boyfriend is the only guy who would even want me.”

  “I don’t believe you have a boyfriend. I think that’s an excuse. A sign you put up because you’re afraid.”

  “Oh! And so what? Why are you still here? Seriously. I’m not good looking. I’m not at all interesting in dating or flirting. Just me sitting in this bar talking to some strange random guy is so not like me.”

  “Huh,” Bastien said with a nod. “Why do you put yourself down?” he asked, losing his smile. “I wasn’t looking at your friend. I was looking at you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Because I like what I see. I admire beauty.”

  “No. No. You don’t mean that.”

  “Stop telling me what I mean.” He smiled, after a long serious pause. “I said you’re beautiful. Accept a compliment.”

  “I’m just not. I’m totally frigid and just not any of that. And I am really drunk and am making a fool of myself. Oh, God!” She laughed hard. “If you knew who I was or what I did for a living, you’d be laughing your butt off.”

  “If I knew who you were?” he said with a light chortle.

  “Yeah. I work in PR. And there are some real creeps in my business. But now, I guess I’m the creep.”

  “Hmmm,” Darque answered, looking deep into her eyes, waiting until she saw him—until her eyes met his. His strong composure and deep, soulful eyes caught her off guard and she lost her giddy smile.

  “Mmm. Sorry. I’m just really drunk. And…think I’m going to be really sick soon. Ugh. It’s just one of those terrible work days.”

  “Oh? Do tell.”

  “They put me in reputation management. Those bastards.”

  “Mmm-hmm, a place for scoundrels and lowlifes, isn’t it?”

  “Totally. Oh, God. My head is spinning. I think I need to find Alicia and go home.”

  “Let me take you home. Alicia’s having fun. No sense to rain on her parade.”

  “You? But I don’t even…know you?”

  “Well, now you do. Now we have been formally introduced.”

  “Let me just call Cindy. I mean Alicia. I need to go home, I think.”

  “No problem, I will take you home. I insist. I live right up the street.”

  “But…what if you’re a psycho or something?”

  “What if you’re a psycho?” he said with a shrug. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

  *****

  Bella did feel uneasy about trusting the kind stranger, but since she couldn’t even find Alicia—and since Alicia ditched her in the arms of the handsome stranger for some weird reason—she went ahead and accepted a ride.

  “Where do you live? This street…where on this street?”

  “Umm…I live right at 244. The Willow Apartments near Woodley Park on Connecticut Ave.”

  She leaned over, her face pressed against the passenger window, as Darque drove her home, almost appearing like a gentleman—maybe a first?

  From what she remembered about that frantic scattered conversation, she thought he had a very impressive car—a Mercedes, a luxury 2015 model S600, and looking perfectly white with not a scratch on it. How much money was this guy worth?

  She had to wonder for a moment, but it wasn’t too long before she started drifting in and out of sleep.

  “All right, then. You’re almost home, Arabella.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?” she said with a giggle. “It’s just Bella.”

  “I like Arabella. It’s more you.”

  “More me? You don’t even know me.”

  She looked into his eyes and smiled, phased by his warming smile and dark, haunting eyes.

  “I have learned much about you.”

  “I learned that you’re very sweet,” she said, fighting off the drunk talk for a moment of genuine care. “Not a lot of guys would have driven me home.”

  “A decent man would have. That’s all I am,” he said, a little less for certain this time.

  She smiled and stared, and stared, and remembered that he did, in fact, call her beautiful more than once. A gorgeous man in his own right, and one that was in awe of her. She tilted her head and moved forward to kiss him…

  “Stop,” he said, not feeling the same romantic-drunken moment. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” He turned away and looked forward, slowing the car down.

  “What? Geez, you’re such a buzzkill.”

  “You are so drunk, girl. You’re not in any position to go home. Heaven forbid you fall in the tub or choke to death in your own puke.”

  “What? Whaaat? Since when are you my dad all of a sudden?”

  “I’m taking you back to my place.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because,” he answered firmly. “Because you obviously can’t be trusted to take care of yourself at this point. I have a vested interest in you. Maybe when you sober up, you’ll understand why.”

  “Huh…that’s weird of you to say. So…you really just want to make sure I’m okay? Like…just to be nice?”

  “Just to be responsible,” he corrected. “You obviously have no boyfriend. Alicia went her separate way. So that makes me responsible.”

  “Wow. And you don’t want anything in return?”

  “No. There’s nothing you could give me anyway.”

  “Wow. That’s…amazing!” she said, thinking over the rapid memories of the night, and convinced she met the only gentleman who’d ever inhabited a seedy nightclub by pure chance.

  *****

  Bella fluttered her eyes awake, at least partly awake. She was stuck in between the dream state and the real world. She was in bed—a strange bed with a strange man putting his hands on her. What in the world did she do? She panicked for a moment.

  Then she figured the whole incident must have been a dream. An unusually vivid one with plenty of bizarre cameos, but a dream nonetheless.

  “Oh God…where am I?” she mumbled. “Am I asleep? Who are you?”

  “It’s me.”

  “But…who are you?”

  “It’s me, Arabella. It’s Bastien.”

  “Bastien? That’s a strange coincidence,” she said, groggy and confused.

  “You’re half asleep, little girl. Go to sleep now. You’ll sleep it off and be ready for a full day of work Monday.”

  “Oh God, don’t remind me. I hate that job.”

  Bastien rolled his eyes. Sure, he was being altruistic, true to the young girl’s words, but he couldn’t help but sneak a peek at her alluring body. She was curvy in all the right places with those big hips and thighs, and a generous bosom that stirred his most primitive emotions. He could smell her hair from where he stood, lifting her up and setting her on the guest bed. Her chestnut hair was perfect and her skin wasn’t just tan like all the other girls, but a beautiful shade of pallid porcelain. Her eyes were so enamoring. She was also tall, her five foot eight frame the perfect complement to his. She was young, but physically she was intimidating to most men and she didn’t seem to realize why. His attraction burned, even as the warmth of her skin soothed his own.

  For a moment, he had to fight his instincts; to grab her, to let passion take over. She would probably let him. But it simply wasn’t Bastien Darque. He lived by a code. And to take advantage of a woman seemed not only cruel and inhumane, but downright illogical. He could have any woman he wanted. Why would he have to cheat?

  As he walked away, content to leave her in his guest bedroom with a house servant dropping in occasionally
to ensure her welfare, he made sure to leave her with a parting thought.

  “You sleep well, Arabella. I’m going to let this slide. Just this once.”

  “Whaaat?” she answered in a stupor, confused and already making sweet love to the bed.

  “Just know this. If you were mine, and you came home like this, your life hanging in the balance of a Good Samaritan, I wouldn’t tolerate it. I would make sure that you were punished severely for it. I would make sure you wouldn’t even sit down for a week. Got it?”

  He ended his lecture with a half-smile, almost a tone of warmth towards the end. Not quite like a father or big brother, or even a boyfriend, but something else. Something else seemed odd about his statement. It left a bit of a splinter in her brain, focusing on those strange words.

  If I was yours? Punished severely? You would spank me? What the fuck was he talking about?

  But it was too much to think of at that moment. She basked in the warm room temperature, surrounded by Egyptian cotton blankets, and the soul-caressing color of purple all around the room. She felt protected. Whoever he was, whatever good deed he did for whatever reason, he really was a gentleman.

  She even thought he might be…

  And then like that, just that quick, she was out.

  *****

  Chapter 4

  Saturday morning was always so peaceful, so tranquil. Bella always used to wake up with the distinct feeling that it was Saturday and that nothing was due, and no plans were yet made. It was supposed to be a day of rest and no regrets.

  But all she felt as she flinched herself away was a throbbing headache and unfamiliar sights and bright lights everywhere she turned. Where am I, she thought. She found herself underdressed and under a blanket, and in God knows where—a hotel? A friend’s room? Definitely nothing this side of Woodley Park.

  As she rose to a sitting position, she was alarmed to see just how underdressed she was: she wore just her pink panties and a T-shirt…which looked several sizes too big. It was a man’s T-shirt! Who in the hell could have undressed her like this? Whose bedroom was this?

  Then she remembered…the guy from last night. The Nice Guy from the bar, who was acting kind of odd toward the end of the night. Did he do this? She looked around the room rapidly, before settling her eyes on a note. The note had been delivered in a large blue envelope; certainly one meant to be easily found and read on such a suspicious morning.