Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 32

"What's wrong?" Damian asked, his look changing briefly.

"Can I look around upstairs?" Isabelle said, pointing toward the second floor.

Damian hesitated for a second. "It's your home now too."

"Oh," she replied, feeling awkward, and simply nodded before turning to leave.

Damian found he couldn't focus on the documents anymore. He stared blankly at the first page, then finally rubbed his temples, sighed, shut down his computer, and left the study.

Isabelle stood in front of the elevator, studying her reflection in the polished metal doors. She smoothed a strand of hair and tilted her head slightly.

She didn't expect Damian to suddenly appear beside her. Her tilted head ended up resting against his shoulder.

Damn it!

Startled, she immediately straightened up, her eyes meeting his in the elevator door's reflection.

Damian turned his head, looking down at her.

"Mr. Cross, what are you..." she blurted out, her voice trailing off.

Is this some kind of workplace reflex? It feels like we've just bumped into each other in the office elevator.

"Damian," she corrected herself quickly.

"Just showing you around," he said, his tone as steady as ever.

Isabelle pressed her lips together, finding it hard to refuse even though she'd wanted some space.

I finally managed to slip out of his sight, and he follows me? Doesn't he have work? Since when are CEOs not busy? He's seemed so tense lately, like something's bothering him. And now he has time to "show me around"?

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime.

Damian stepped in first and pressed the button for the third floor. Isabelle stood beside him. The enclosed space was filled with the subtle, clean scent of his cologne. She held her breath slightly, feeling surrounded by his presence.

"Are you afraid of me?" His low voice broke the silence of the small cabin.

"Huh? Oh, no. I'm just... not quite used to this yet," she said, her words coming out in a rush.

Saying she was not afraid would be a lie. That night was all a blur, and she didn't even know if Damian had been in his right mind. Thinking about it then, with him standing right there, was just... awkward.

Damian let out a quiet chuckle but said nothing more.

Time's not an issue for me—I'm not gonna rush her.

The elevator arrived at the third floor.

The space opened into a vast study that felt more like a private library. A massive desk, at least fifteen feet long, dominated one area, its surface covered in high-end stationery.

Beyond that was an elegant, glass-enclosed sunroom, offering a completely different, brighter ambiance.

"Wow..." she breathed out, barely audible. So this is how the other half lives.

Damian glanced at her, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "I heard your calligraphy is quite good."

A small, secret smile touched Isabelle's lips. Finally, something I might actually be better at.

Isabelle paused. Is he just making conversation now?

She couldn't stand the tension anymore. What he wanted to do right then was as plain as day. She'd have to be an idiot not to know.

"Damian, you—" she started, her voice tight.

"I still want to kiss you," he stated plainly, cutting her off.

Her mind went blank for a second. What is with him today?

Isabelle felt like she was on fire. Her ears burned, cheeks flushed, palms grew damp, and even her toes curled in her shoes. She clenched her small hands, thumbnail pressing hard into her forefinger until the tip turned white.

Just do it already and stop dragging this out.

Backlit by the sunroom light, part of Damian's face was in shadow, his silhouette sharp against the brightness. Isabelle was fully in his shadow, and he could see every tiny movement of hers.

He took a long stride toward her.

Isabelle instinctively took a step back, but he gently caught her wrist.

"We'll just try it. You can tell me to stop anytime," he said, his voice a low murmur.

Isn't this kind of "asking for permission" even more presumptuous than just going for it?

A long silence stretched between them, charged and heavy, before she finally managed to force out a single, shaky word.

"Okay..." She couldn't even say no.