Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 66

"I... felt bad for ruining so many of your shirts before. Figured I should at least make it up to you," she mumbled, placing one knee on the couch cushion beside his thigh, her other foot planted between his legs.

The position was dangerously intimate.

Damian's pupils darkened, his Adam's apple bobbed visibly, and his voice grew husky. "So, you sewed this shirt yourself?" He'd noticed a small, delicate tulip embroidered near the collar button. It was her favorite flower.

"Mhm."

Shyly, she flipped his collar up, the warmth of her small hands lingering against his skin. Everywhere she touched felt electric.

Damian watched her intently, observing as the initial flush of shyness on her cheeks deepened into a fiery blush.

"Mrs. Cross... you're starting to grow fond of me." His blunt statement left Isabelle with nowhere to hide.

Flustered, she gave the tie she was holding a sharp, reflexive tug, tightening it around his neck.

"Hngh—" A choked grunt escaped Damian's lips.

Isabelle's face flushed crimson as she quickly loosened it. "I... I wouldn't say that yet..."

"Alright then. I'll just have to try harder." A scorching heat seemed to radiate from his chest, warming the back of her hand where it rested.

Isabelle finished adjusting his collar, then quickly stood up and took a step back.

So, that night... was it because she wasn't fond of him yet that she'd refused?

She bit her lip. You're barely ever home anyway. How exactly do you plan on "trying harder"?

She didn't dare say it out loud.

"I'm trying to... get to like you too. Bit by bit," Isabelle said softly.

Damian paused, wondering if he'd heard her correctly. Several seconds ticked by.

"Let's go." Eager to escape the tension, Isabelle grabbed her bag from the couch and headed for the door.

He snatched up his wool overcoat and followed her, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

"Isabelle." He caught her wrist gently.

"Hmm?" Startled, she stopped and looked back at him.

"I'd like a taste of the soup."

"It looks like I'll have to work really hard to earn Mrs. Cross' favor willingly. Otherwise, I won't get to taste the meat, and I won't even get a drop of broth. I'm starving."

He'd said that back in Solvenia.

So, him asking for "a taste of the soup" now... probably meant...

Sure enough, a man who'd read more books knew how to phrase things. Even the most primal urges sounded cultured coming from him.

She froze on the spot, her face instantly burning.

Should she call him a gentleman, or a cunning strategist?

Agreeing felt presumptuous, but refusing felt needlessly cruel.

Men. So good at handing the choice over, putting you right on the spot.

Damian was finishing a phone call in the car, so Isabelle got out to give him some space.

As soon as her feet touched the concrete, she spotted Nicole getting out of a car a few spaces down.

She looked healthier, her vitality restored with some light makeup. Dressed in a loose wool coat, you couldn't easily tell she was pregnant unless you looked closely.

Isabelle offered a faint, dismissive smile and started to walk away, pretending not to see her, but Nicole called out.

"Isabelle." Nicole's lips curled into a familiar, mocking smirk.

Just great...

"Hello, Nicole," Isabelle said, dropping the familial title.

Hearing the blunt name, Nicole's smile faltered for a second, but she quickly recovered, maintaining that superior tone. "What's this? Finished playing house already? Where's your... guy?"

She didn't say "bastard" this time, just "guy". Probably a lingering effect of that slap.

Isabelle glanced back at their car. Clearly, Nicole hadn't recognized it as Damian's, or she'd be keeping her distance.

"Nicole, now that you're expecting, maybe you should focus less on other women's partners. It's not a good look."

Nicole swallowed hard, her anger rising. "You think I'm like you, climbing into Mr. Cross' bed?"

"Of course we're not alike. I don't collect other people's trash. You're different—you eagerly grab what I didn't want. I guess you don't mind if it's secondhand." Isabelle usually didn't engage much, but when she did, she didn't need crude words to hit where it hurt.

Unwilling to back down, Nicole sneered, "You can't even keep a man, and you have the nerve to act all high and mighty with that pretty face of yours!"