The Runaway Groom

"Okay," Isaac answered softly.

They arrived outside a nice restaurant, and he threw the car keys to the valet as soon as he alighted before heading inside with an arm around Irene.

It was a Franconian restaurant with local specialties: beef bourguignon, foie gras, escargot, and the like.

However, Irene preferred Zidonian food—there were not that many foreign dishes that suited her palate.

Naturally, Isaac could tell that she did not like it. "I'll take you to a Zidonian restaurant next time."

"Good," Irene replied. "Our country's food is more to my taste."

Isaac raised a brow. "Our country's food is special in its way, but you should learn to accept different flavors too. It's a bad habit to be picky." "Am I being picky?" Irene asked.

"Yes."

Irene was speechless—how was she being picky? Just because she was not used to foreign food?

was just that her stomach was Zidonian and rejected other food. "Here, you can have this," she said as she

the one she put on his plate before the others. Sheryl sighed, speechless

did not nag and told Irene, "Make it fast. Don't stay out

“I know," Irene replied.

she linked her

you want.” Isaac pretended to

"What, going to have more business

"Well, work depends on

him, her lips almost on his ear. "Cheat on me, and I'll get

sideways.

vibrantly. "Keep your hands to yourself if you don't want me to cheat on

arms with one arm and

him on the ear before pulling away, leaning against the car door and staying

exasperated and amused. "Does teasing me make you feel

don't I?" "As long as we're clear on that,"