Fated Marriage Spoiled by My Ice Billionaire novel Chapter 95

"Fifty-two proof? No way, it tastes just like juice."

Isabelle took another small sip, licking her lips.

"Let me tell you, I'm off the clock. If you get drunk, I'm not taking you home. And if Mr. Cross finds out I took you out for drinks with male escorts, he'll make me pay for it," Brian said.

"Brainwashed by Damian already? You're taking this role a bit too seriously. We're buddies now," Isabelle retorted.

Before Brian could reply, five male escorts approached their booth.

Diana, who was already having a blast nearby, perked up immediately. "Gotta say, they're better looking than the ones abroad!" she said, sliding over. Brian made room for her to sit next to Isabelle.

The male escorts started dancing provocatively for the group of women.

A couple of the other girls, who had already had a few drinks, couldn't resist reaching out to touch them.

Isabelle chuckled softly. She knew Diana liked to have fun, but she didn't realize she played this hard.

"Isabelle, go on, touch him!" Nova grabbed Isabelle's hand and guided it toward the well-defined abs of the escort in front of her.

The moment her slender fingers made contact with those six-pack abs, an image of Damian's tanned, eight-pack stomach flashed in her mind.

Sitting at another table, Damian, who thought he'd heard a familiar name, looked over. The glass in his hand tightened instantly. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened.

*****

Just after leaving the restroom, Isabelle was pulled into a nearby single-occupancy bathroom by a figure in white.

She was pinned against the cold tile wall, but a large, warm hand cradled the back of her head, preventing it from hitting the surface.

"Ah—"

Her hands pressed against his burning chest, trying to create some distance between them.

They were so close she could smell the faint scent of tobacco and cologne on him. She recognized that scent, and from her periphery, she could make out his handsome profile.

"Damian, what are you doing..." Her voice was soft, a mix of a whine and a complaint.

Damian asked, "You like male escorts?"

"What are you talking about? Are you jealous?" She tilted her head, the sweet scent of Jungle Juice from her breath wafting up.

She suddenly found it funny that he was this angry over an accidental touch. And wasn't he just as bad, sitting with Ashley and that girl?

"I'm concerned about my reputation," Damian said, his face stern.

"It wasn't what it looked like. It was an accident."

Hearing her earnest explanation, he didn't press further, but the air in the cramped space grew thick and tense.

"Kiss me," Damian said.

Isabelle didn't reply.

"Kiss me, and I'll believe you." His tone was angry, yet it carried a strange note of pleading.

Is it my imagination, or does it seem like he... loves me?

"Huh?" Isabelle was startled. She turned her back to the room so Diana could help her fix her makeup.

Diana asked, "I saw Damian just now. Was it him?"

"Yeah."

"Damn, he's all man," Diana said with a low chuckle.

"What? You're praising him for that?"

"Shouldn't I? Did he see you touching the male escort?"

"How do you know all this?" Isabelle had to admire her friend's perceptiveness.

"If a man is into you, his possessiveness is next-level. You just have to accept it."

Isabelle was speechless.

What kind of logic is that?

But... it's true. It's pretty intense.

"All right, let me fix you up." Diana took out her lipstick and reapplied it for Isabelle. "I should warn you, that girl sitting next to him—she's trouble. She's already pretending to be drunk."

"Your eyes are sharp," Isabelle murmured.