Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 81

"Aside from your parents and your grandfather, is there anyone else in your immediate family?

"A sister, married. Both she and her husband are also in public service."

She pressed her lips together and drew a slow breath.

"It's not too late to learn now."

Damian patted the slender hand resting on his arm and led her further into the venue.

"You and this particular... admirer seem quite well-matched on paper, so why..."

"Isabelle, my family hasn't fallen to the point where we need to rely on a marriage for connections or capital."

"Oh."

Suddenly, she felt the weight of his world pressing in.

"Aren't you afraid I might be after your looks or your money?"

"Are you?"

He looked at her with a seriousness that held unexpected tenderness.

Isabelle pressed her lips together, unable to form a reply.

He leaned closer, his voice a low murmur near her ear. "If you were after my looks, I wouldn't have exercised such restraint all this time—to the point where certain... matters remain unconsummated. If you were after my money..." He paused, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Let's just say the price would be steep. Money isn't the issue; I'd be more concerned about your stamina."

Isabelle lowered her gaze, her cheeks flushing warm.

What kind of restraint was he talking about?

"Damian!"

"Speaking of the persistent admirer," Damian noted calmly.

"Damian?" Isabelle echoed, confused.

"Call me 'Honey'. It has a better ring to it," he teased softly.

Isabelle bit her lip, her emotions in a whirl.

A striking woman in a crimson dress and matching heels came hurrying toward them, her waves bouncing with each step. Her pretty face was alight with eager excitement.

Damian gave her a polite, minimal nod, subtly shifting his stance to create distance.

It was the perfect display of public decorum, a stark contrast to his private boldness.

"Good evening, Daisy," Isabelle offered, her tone polite.

Daisy Clark stopped short. It was rare to see Damian with a woman on his arm.

When she'd last seen him two months prior, he'd been alone, and the female company he kept was famously sparse.

She had never seen this woman before.

"And you are...?"

Her smile didn't reach her eyes, but she maintained her composure.

She felt an instinctive, intangible wariness toward Isabelle, an aura of quiet confidence that seemed to emanate from within.

"Isabelle Foster."

Isabelle glanced at Damian and then deliberately laced her fingers through his.

Daisy understood the gesture, but she wasn't ready to concede.

"You and Damian are..."

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