Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 101

The past few days had been nonstop. Isabelle was so run down that skipping dinner and going straight to the bar had finally done her in.

After chatting for a while, Diana couldn't help but tell her about Damian buying that apartment for Aurora.

Isabelle wasn't particularly shocked to hear it; she simply didn't want to dwell on it. She just replied, "Whatever," and ended the conversation.

Not long after, Nancy Morgan, the family doctor, arrived. She checked Isabelle's condition in the bedroom. "You're mostly fine now. Drink plenty of water and get some good sleep," Nancy said.

Isabelle's face flushed instantly. Ever since she stopped resisting having sex with Damian, they did it every night till one or two, sometimes even three... And sometimes first thing in the morning, he'd just want to have sex with her...

He acted like it was nothing, but she was the one who suffered, feeling more wiped out afterward than after a full workday.

"Dr. Morgan, could you stay a bit longer?" Isabelle asked. "Could you check on Damian too? His voice sounds off."

Feel bad about that... he did take care of me all night.

Nancy glanced at her with a knowing smile. "And why wouldn't he be sick? Did you ever ask what he did last night?"

Isabelle was totally lost. What did he do last night?

Under her questioning, she finally learned the truth. Damian had taken four or five ice-cold baths, each about fifteen minutes long, just so he could come back and hold her while she slept.

He really gave her a thorough cool-down from head to toe.

Nancy had already given him medication, but catching a chill in the dead of winter was almost a given.

Isabelle was stunned for a long moment, a complete mess of emotions churning inside her.

She had no idea when the meeting downstairs ended. After her check-up, she followed Nancy down.

The living room was empty except for Damian, dozing on the sofa. He had one hand propped on the armrest, fingers pressed to his temple, the other loosely holding his glasses.

Isabelle walked over. He was out cold, breathing steadily, seemingly unaware she was there. She knelt between his feet and looked up at him.

Damian, all six-foot-three of him, filled the entire armchair.

Carefully, she took the glasses from his hand and placed them on a stack of files nearby. Then she stood, grabbed a blanket from another sofa, and laid it over his legs.

That tiny movement woke him. He didn't stir, just slowly opened his eyes and looked at her.

Isabelle hated this stare. It always made her feel guilty. His gaze was so intense it was enough to throw anyone off balance.

"Do you want to go upstairs and rest?" she asked carefully.

Damian leaned back lazily against the sofa, reached out, and took her hand. "Come here."

Wait, do I hear a hint of... whining in his voice? Is he actually sulking?

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