Dark Chocolate Murder by Anisa Claire West Read Free Book Online Page B

trying to remain composed under the man’s intense perusal.
    “No, no. Word gets around.  The shopkeepers in the area are pleased that you’re opening this store.  They think it will complement their businesses, and I agree.  You do make a lovely addition to this community,” he drawled the last part in a low tone.
    “You said you’re in the culinary industry?” Belinda asked, evading his flirtation.
    “Yes, I recently opened a French restaurant in Monte Carlo.  We have a highly skilled pastry chef, but we could use some gourmet chocolates.  Perhaps you and I could form a partnership,” Pierre alluded.  “I could commission you to create some chocolate after-dinner mints exclusively for my restaurant.”
    Eager for any business opportunity that would gain exposure and prestige for her shop, Belinda instantly brightened, forgetting about the jam that still coated her skin.  “I would love to discuss that possibility further.  You speak English very well, by the way.  Have you ever lived abroad?”
    Pierre laughed loudly as though she had just told a hilarious joke.  “I lived in New York City for ten years.  That’s where I studied to be a chef.”
    “Oh! Well, that explains it,” Belinda said, feeling self-conscious as the man regarded her with an odd combination of humor and desire.
    “Are you in Monaco all alone?” Pierre ventured.
    “My sister and her husband live here.  But I don’t have any other family in Monaco,” Belinda replied, immediately perceiving a rising interest in the handsome man.
    “A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be alone in a foreign country,” Pierre said intimately.
    Belinda resisted the impulse to roll her eyes at the practiced line he had tossed her.  How many women had this man tried to seduce with a cliché like that?
    Stubbornly, she replied, “Actually, I’ve been very busy focusing on opening this shop.”
    “Well I can certainly understand that.  My restaurant was a nightmare to open, and it’s still having some growing pains.  But, what’s that American expression, ‘all work and no play?’  I don’t recommend it.  I recommend lots of play.”
    I’m sure you do, playboy , Belinda thought, shooting him an expression that told him she had no tolerance for playing games.
    “Would you be my guest at dinner?” Pierre invited, sobering as the smirk faded from his lips.
    Suspicious of Pierre’s suddenly gallant approach, Belinda pursed her lips thoughtfully.  In Boston, she had been accustomed to a casual first date of drinks or coffee---and an even more casual invitation through text.  Pierre’s suave yet direct way of requesting that she be his dinner guest was unnerving, and she wasn’t sure how to respond.  Ruefully, she thought, this is romance right in front of my eyes, and I don’t even believe it .
    Staring her down impudently, Pierre twisted his lips into an expectant smile. “Well? What do you say, Belinda?”
    “Yes!” She burst out, not wanting the moment to slip away.  “Yes, thank you,” she said more softly.
    “Good,” Pierre’s smile broadened.  “Would tomorrow evening work for you? I will come to your residence.”
    “No!” Belinda shrieked as emphatically as she had said ‘yes’ a moment ago.  “I mean, shouldn’t we meet somewhere?”
    “Yes, we should meet at your residence,” Pierre asserted.  “Do you live nearby?”
    “I live---um, yes, not too far, but…”
    Pierre’s smile evaporated and frown lines formed on his tanned forehead.  “Are you sure you’re in Monaco alone?  Because I have no interest in courting a woman who’s involved with someone.”
    Courting .  Yes, that was the word for it.  Courting .  No man had ever courted her before, certainly not Daniel with his insulting bowling and fast food dates.  Flustered, Belinda wondered how she could explain to Pierre that she was not involved with anyone…but couldn’t have him come to her place.  There was no way to hedge his