Fated Marriage Spoiled by My Ice Billionaire novel Chapter 137

They had left her feeling frustrated and unsatisfied all night.

She stole a little kiss.

Isabelle couldn't help but marvel at the fact that she was sleeping next to such a hot man.

Her heart raced inexplicably.

Why do I still feel shy even after we've done everything?

She touched her own face. It was burning.

I feel kind of... naughty.

Damian let out a soft sigh and tightened his arm around her. "Sweetheart, that's not fair."

Isabelle froze.

When did he wake up?

She tried to duck under the covers, but it was too late.

Damian took her other hand—the one different from last night—and guided it under the blanket.

*****

It was past ten in the morning by the time they finally got out of bed.

Now both her arms were sore.

Isabelle sat on the sofa, rubbing her wrists, watching Damian pack their luggage.

She cursed under her breath. "Jerk..."

Noticing her pout, Damian couldn't help but chuckle, "If you're going to curse me, do it openly. I can take it."

Isabelle quickly retorted, "I wasn't cursing you."

"The word 'jerk' might as well be written on my forehead."

She muttered, "You knew it?"

*****

The car pulled into Cross Manor.

This was Isabelle's second time here.

It was a huge castle surrounded by vast grasslands.

Damian had told her his ancestors were in the wine business. This castle was built by his great-grandfather for his wife. Though the exterior showed some wear, the interior was well-preserved, though much of it had been modernized.

Damian's uncle and aunt had returned from abroad, along with his cousin, his cousin's wife, and their twin sons.

They were all gathered on the outdoor lawn, setting up a grill for a barbecue and singing later.

This whole setup was probably Theodore's idea—a lingering effect from getting carried away at karaoke last time.

The car stopped, and Isabelle got out of the passenger seat.

Damian was still on a call in the driver's seat. He opened his door and placed one foot on the ground.

He glanced at the people playing on the lawn in the distance, then looked away.

Isabelle walked around the front of the car to the driver's side, also looking at Theodore in the distance.

Just then, she heard a strange, panting sound rushing toward her from behind.

As she started to turn, she saw a huge, shaggy dog charging straight at her.

"God!" she screamed in fright.

In an instant, she scrambled back into the car and slammed the door shut, leaving the dog—which stood taller than her on its hind legs—outside.

Such an improper question at a moment like this!

She smells so good.

A smile played on his lips. He wasn't listening to a word.

Isabelle wished she could bury her face somewhere.

Hearing the commotion, the group from the lawn started walking over. Damian gave her bottom a light squeeze.

Reluctantly, he wrapped both arms around her waist and easily lifted her off him and back into the passenger seat.

"Don't worry. He doesn't bite," Damian said with a laugh.

Isabelle quickly let go of the hand that was still clutching his shirt.

Wow, that was some display of his strength.

He moved me over so effortlessly.

Damian leaned over and rolled down the window.

"Muddlehead, you scared my wife," he scolded sternly.

Isabelle was startled by his tone.

Wait. The dog's name is also Muddlehead?

That's actually kind of funny.

The dog's paws retreated from the window, and it took a few steps back.

Damian ordered, "Sit."

It was the first time Isabelle had heard such a severe tone from him. It sent a shiver down her spine.

Muddlehead obediently sat on the ground, panting and wagging its tail, awaiting further commands.

Damian withdrew his head and looked at Isabelle. "He's an Afghan Hound. Very well-trained and gentle. You don't need to be afraid of him."