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?

that her stomach was Zidonian and rejected other food. "Here, you can have this," she said as she put an escargot on Isaac's plate. "Eat this,

the one she put on his plate before the others. Sheryl

told Irene, "Make it fast.

“I know," Irene replied.

her arm

want.” Isaac

have more

"Well,

her lips almost on his ear. "Cheat on me, and

at her sideways. "Are you

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

arm and

always had claws. Didn't you know?" Irene said, gently biting him on the ear before pulling away, leaning against the car door and staying far

and amused. "Does

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