Billionaire Romance: Darque Control (A Darque Billionaire Romance Book 2) by Diana Steele Page B
Authors: Diana Steele
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other.
“Hey,” he said loudly, always loving the feeling of dominating the room. “I take it that means yes.”
Damn, he caught me. She nodded timidly.
“Look for a limo,” he said, losing that pointless smile in his face. After all, they were still in a professional setting.
*****
Chapter 2
A limousine picked Bella up, as always, since no one that worked or played with Bastien Darque could afford to look destitute. He was a man of expensive tastes and the very idea that Bella, or Arabella, as he insisted on calling her as that was the more exotic way to say her name, was something pricey, something special, tickled her ego.
Bradley, her ex-boyfriend, certainly never described her as beautiful.
“You’re cute,” she recalled Bradley saying one time at a restaurant. “Don’t get me wrong. You do have qualities. You just need to lose some weight and you’d be fine.”
That was the usual routine. Maybe that’s why she stayed so long with Bradley, because he wasn’t easily impressed. He never cherished her. She was always trying to win more approval from him, more commendation or appreciation—something. He tolerated her.
Whatever Bastien was, it was different. He cherished her beauty. He made her feel like a woman, like a diamond. But at the same time, he wasn’t exactly impressed with her. He treated her like what she was; a student, a toy, a “disciple”, that is the follower of a teacher who accepts discipline.
She shook the naughty idea away. It was an intriguing offer for sure. But she couldn’t rationalize why she would ever submit to a man, especially one as shady as Darque. She had such a difficult time calling him Bastien. In fact, he never seemed to encourage it. He liked for his workers to show him respect. To obey orders. To do what was asked, and not learn to like him.
And yet, sitting across from Darque at a five-star restaurant in D.C. felt comfortable. Certainly no “serial killer” vibes coming from the man. He was naturally, calm, vibrant and even found a few reasons to smile throughout the dinner. He spoke well of the entrée. Most “entitled” people harassed the waiters for the food, thinking that made them look like big shots. But Bastien Darque felt no inclination to put on a show. When he was happy, he expressed it. When he was angry, he made sure everyone knew. When he hungry he ate, and he always thanked the waiters and the kitchen staff personally.
And when he was horny…
Bella eyed Bastien suspiciously, having finished the meal, with Bastien hardly noticing her in between morsels of his favorite dish: caviar. But he did say at the outset that she looked beautiful—even though he thought her black dress was “good…but not naturally accentuating.”
“You should avoid slimming colors,” he said matter-of-factly. You have curves. They should be highlighted. They contribute to your beauty. Our clothes don’t hide who we are. They showcase us.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“Nothing about me is nice, Arabella,” he said, this time sporting a wicked little smile.
“Well, no, you’re not classically nice,” she said with a laugh. “But I think you have the capacity to be a good person. Everyone does.”
“Not everyone,” he said, slightly bitter. “But I have never lied about anything. I have no need to. On the contrary, lies have been told about me.”
“So none of it’s true?”
“It depends on which parts you’re talking about. Now that you are away from the office you can say what’s on your mind.”
“Do you tie women up?”
“Yes.”
“And they enjoy it?”
“Have you never been experimental, young lady? Am I, as your senior, more experimental than you? What a shame. You only live once, you know.”
“Did you just totally YOLO me?”
“Excuse me?”
“You said YOLO.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” he said
“Hey,” he said loudly, always loving the feeling of dominating the room. “I take it that means yes.”
Damn, he caught me. She nodded timidly.
“Look for a limo,” he said, losing that pointless smile in his face. After all, they were still in a professional setting.
*****
Chapter 2
A limousine picked Bella up, as always, since no one that worked or played with Bastien Darque could afford to look destitute. He was a man of expensive tastes and the very idea that Bella, or Arabella, as he insisted on calling her as that was the more exotic way to say her name, was something pricey, something special, tickled her ego.
Bradley, her ex-boyfriend, certainly never described her as beautiful.
“You’re cute,” she recalled Bradley saying one time at a restaurant. “Don’t get me wrong. You do have qualities. You just need to lose some weight and you’d be fine.”
That was the usual routine. Maybe that’s why she stayed so long with Bradley, because he wasn’t easily impressed. He never cherished her. She was always trying to win more approval from him, more commendation or appreciation—something. He tolerated her.
Whatever Bastien was, it was different. He cherished her beauty. He made her feel like a woman, like a diamond. But at the same time, he wasn’t exactly impressed with her. He treated her like what she was; a student, a toy, a “disciple”, that is the follower of a teacher who accepts discipline.
She shook the naughty idea away. It was an intriguing offer for sure. But she couldn’t rationalize why she would ever submit to a man, especially one as shady as Darque. She had such a difficult time calling him Bastien. In fact, he never seemed to encourage it. He liked for his workers to show him respect. To obey orders. To do what was asked, and not learn to like him.
And yet, sitting across from Darque at a five-star restaurant in D.C. felt comfortable. Certainly no “serial killer” vibes coming from the man. He was naturally, calm, vibrant and even found a few reasons to smile throughout the dinner. He spoke well of the entrée. Most “entitled” people harassed the waiters for the food, thinking that made them look like big shots. But Bastien Darque felt no inclination to put on a show. When he was happy, he expressed it. When he was angry, he made sure everyone knew. When he hungry he ate, and he always thanked the waiters and the kitchen staff personally.
And when he was horny…
Bella eyed Bastien suspiciously, having finished the meal, with Bastien hardly noticing her in between morsels of his favorite dish: caviar. But he did say at the outset that she looked beautiful—even though he thought her black dress was “good…but not naturally accentuating.”
“You should avoid slimming colors,” he said matter-of-factly. You have curves. They should be highlighted. They contribute to your beauty. Our clothes don’t hide who we are. They showcase us.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
“Nothing about me is nice, Arabella,” he said, this time sporting a wicked little smile.
“Well, no, you’re not classically nice,” she said with a laugh. “But I think you have the capacity to be a good person. Everyone does.”
“Not everyone,” he said, slightly bitter. “But I have never lied about anything. I have no need to. On the contrary, lies have been told about me.”
“So none of it’s true?”
“It depends on which parts you’re talking about. Now that you are away from the office you can say what’s on your mind.”
“Do you tie women up?”
“Yes.”
“And they enjoy it?”
“Have you never been experimental, young lady? Am I, as your senior, more experimental than you? What a shame. You only live once, you know.”
“Did you just totally YOLO me?”
“Excuse me?”
“You said YOLO.”
“I don’t remember saying that,” he said