Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 48

So, maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

"What about Ashley?" Isabelle ventured carefully.

Damian shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the sofa, his back to her. The lines of his broad shoulders were clear even through his shirt.

He let out a soft sigh that sounded tired, but his mood was hard to read.

Crap. Shouldn't have asked. Brian was right. He's annoyed.

"Isabelle." His tone was ice.

"Yeah?" Her heart jumped.

"Remember your place."

He was angry. She could feel it, simmering under that controlled calm, and it cut deeper than if he'd shouted.

Ashley was his ex. He'd made that perfectly clear from the start, and she'd never seen a flicker of anything else in his eyes when her name came up.

How am I supposed to fix this?

He was reminding her they were married now.

"You eat. I'm going to shower." He walked into the bathroom without looking back.

Isabelle bit her lip, her fork hovering. Through the frosted glass, she could make out the silhouette of his torso. Her cheeks flushed and she quickly looked away, sitting at the desk to force down her food.

It tasted the same, but tonight it felt tasteless.

Damian finished his shower around eleven. A towel was slung over his shoulders as he dropped onto the sofa, put in his earbuds, and started on the files Brian had sent.

The top three buttons of his expensive silk loungewear hung undone, hinting at the smooth skin underneath. He'd rolled the cumbersome sleeves up to his elbows, revealing distinct veins on his arms.

Isabelle wanted to say something, but he never once glanced her way. Whether he was that focused or just ignoring her, she couldn't tell. Giving up, she went to bed.

Fashion Week lasted a week. After Ashley's invitation last night, she'd more or less hinted about spending more time together. Damian hadn't refused, but he hadn't agreed either. According to Brian, Damian was probably waiting to see Isabelle's reaction.

Isabelle sent a message to her group chat with the girls, "Damian is mad. How do I fix this?"

Diana sent, "Jump him."

Classic Diana, always going for the direct approach.

Isabelle sent, "Can't. On my period. And... I don't want to move that fast yet."

Diana sent, "Then just be sweet. Kiss him. Guys can't handle it when you act vulnerable."

April sent, "Seriously? You don't want to move fast? He's a guy. Are you trying to kill him?"

Isabelle jumped. It's already three o'clock—has he not slept? Is he not scared of dropping dead?

Instinctively, she pulled her shirt down again. "You're not sleeping yet?" she asked.

"You go ahead," he said, his voice rough.

He looked away at his laptop screen. "Continue," he said into his headset.

Isabelle flinched. He was in a cross-border meeting.

Did they hear me? Thank God I'm just a junior. Those execs wouldn't know my voice.

She hurried back to the bedroom and ducked under the covers.

The next morning, she woke up early. Damian, after that late-night meeting, was still out cold.

Seizing the chance, Isabelle rushed to the closet. When she walked into the bathroom, she froze.

The panties and pajama pants she'd stained last night were already washed and hanging up. The exhaust fan had been on all night, and they were almost dry.

Isabelle cupped her face, her cheeks burning. She looked at her reflection, utterly flushed.

Damian washed my underwear?

The stain hadn't been that bad. She hadn't planned to throw them away—they were practically new, and finding the right fit here was a pain. It would've been a waste.