Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Chapter 108

Isadora's cheeks flushed, a soft pink coloring her ears as Victor's words lingered in the air.

Without hesitation, Victor reached out and slipped his hand into hers, the gesture intimate and easy, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

His palm was large and warm, enveloping her slender fingers completely.

Isadora wasn't used to this. The crisp early autumn breeze did nothing to cool the restless flutter in her chest. Her palm was already damp, and she instinctively tried to pull her hand away, not wanting him to notice.

But Victor didn't let go. At first, he'd just held her hand, but now his fingers interlaced with hers, holding her tighter.

She'd never held hands with anyone like this before. It felt so close, so unmistakably romantic-her heart thudded in her chest with nervous excitement.

Victor glanced down at her, lips curving into a teasing smile, his gaze playful. "Is it too warm for you?"

Isadora shot him a glare with her bright, expressive eyes, certain he was doing this on purpose.

She stubbornly replied, "I'm just hungry, that's all."

Victor chuckled softly, still holding her hand as he led her inside.

and a dog-stretched long and harmonious

sight of them, eyes going wide in surprise before quickly looking

master holding hands with a woman before. Isn't

who never lets anyone near him, follows her around. Anyone would think she's his

the Fitzgerald family is about to

an array of dishes: sweet and tangy glazed ribs, steamed white fish, sautéed crab with herbs, and beef with tender spring vegetables. Four courses and a hearty soup-the spread was rich

widened in delight, her mouth already watering. "Did you make all

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just threw a few things together. But don't worry-there's plenty of ribs tonight. No need to fight Pudding for

she protested, recalling how she'd simply taken a few

with amusement. "Alright, alright. My

ribs and piling them onto a plate-until it was heaping full. Then,

tail wagging, and settled beside them

as he reached for a set of crab crackers. His long, deft fingers worked skillfully, extracting tender morsels

always found it too much trouble-especially in front of someone else—so she'd

couldn't help but admire the graceful precision of

she knew it, he'd finished and carefully placed the delicate, snowy crab meat

she

aside the utensils before picking up a damp napkin to wipe his hands. Then, with gentle fingers, he brushed away a tiny bit of food from the corner of

softened with affection as