Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 80

"We've been closer than this before. What's there to be shy about now? Hmm?"

He reached out and drew her into his embrace, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"Hey—"

She placed her hands between them, keeping a buffer, her head lowered, not daring to meet his gaze.

At that moment, even her breathing was unsteady.

His low, rough voice was like a slow-acting intoxicant seeping into her senses.

"Do you want to..."

She shook her head quickly.

"We're running out of time. I need to get ready..."

His voice was tender, husky and tightly controlled. "No need to rush..."

"You're holding me too tight. Let me go..."

She pushed against him, but he was immovable.

"I still have to do my hair and makeup. Really, there's no time..."

Damian's smile deepened. He didn't reply, his gaze drifting pointedly toward the belt lying on the bed.

Isabelle was at a loss for words.

It seemed he hadn't put one on yet.

He lowered his head with a soft chuckle, then reached out to stroke her hair. He didn't tease her further. Otherwise, they wouldn't be leaving for the next hour or two.

"Go take your shower. I'll wait for you."

He turned and picked up the white dress shirt from the bed, putting it on.

Isabelle hastily retreated to the walk-in closet to grab her things.

By the time she emerged from the shower, he was already dressed and working in the study.

A long, high-necked, sleeveless evening gown lay across the bed.

The style was elegant and fitted, made of pale blue satin. Embroidered golden motifs adorned the waist, and a white faux-fur shawl was draped beside it.

A new black wool coat lay next to it.

He really did think of everything.

She pulled the closet door shut and changed into the gown inside.

Then she slipped on the diamond-studded white heels. They made her look tall and graceful.

She walked carefully to the study doorway and paused about five feet away from him.

"James is waiting for us downstairs."

Damian noticed the heels sinking into the carpet first. He slowly looked up.

His gaze, warm and intent, settled on her.

He crooked a finger. "Come here."

She hesitated.

Though reluctant to get closer, she found herself walking toward him.

"Damian, my makeup is done..."

She blushed, avoiding his direct gaze.

Damian reached out, took her hand, and drew her nearer.

Isabelle braced her hands against his solid chest, maintaining a sliver of space between them.

He gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"You were upset that I didn't reach out to you these past weeks."

"I wasn't."

"You're a terrible liar."

His breath, warm and close, brushed against her flushed cheek.

He leaned in and kissed her softly. The contact was brief but potent, landing squarely on her lips before retreating.

Isabelle's hidden thoughts had been laid bare. Her face turned as red as a ripe strawberry.

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