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?

can have this," she said as

smiled and ate the one she put on his plate before the others. Sheryl sighed, speechless that Irene was

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

“I know," Irene replied.

linked her arm around his. "I'l come back as soon as I

as you want.” Isaac pretended

have more business discussions

throat. "Well, work

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

stared at her sideways.

softly and vibrantly. "Keep your hands to yourself if you don't want

arms with one arm and tousled her hair. "When did you

Irene said, gently biting him on the ear before pulling away, leaning against the car door and

once exasperated and amused. "Does teasing me make

nodded mischievously. “I keep losing to you otherwise, don't I?" "As long as we're clear