The Runaway Groom

Chapter 16

Irene dreamed that she was being constricted by two gigantic serpents. Unable to breathe and convinced that she would suffocate, a ray of light suddenly appeared, and she grabbed it as hard as she could...

She jolted awake when she thought salvation was at hand, and she opened her eyes to find a towering man standing before her, his clothes a mess but his presence menacing-as if he would consume her.

Her mind clearing instantly, she shrank into a corner of the couch, stammering, “W–What are you doing?”

Having just woken up, her voice was hoarse and quivering.

Isaac merely smiled in disdain–she was the one who tried to strip him, and now she was pretending to be frightened?

“What, you weren’t just pretending to sleepwalk and molest me? You really can‘t go a night without a man, can

you?”

Irene felt her breath leave her lungs. Still, her fingers curled into a fist as she glared at him sternly. “That‘s not it?”

Isaac gave her a look of doubt. “Really?” Suddenly, he pressed down on her.

From up close, his distinct presence was cold, suffocating, and invasive. She raised a hand in reflex to stop him, and as her soft fingers touched his chest, the sudden skin contact left him stiffening, and he looked down at her hand. Her fingers were slim and beautiful, and her skin fair.

At the same time, the warmth of her palm flowed under her skin, crawling into her blood.

Though suddenly restless, Isaac simply blamed it on Irene’s provocation. Inching closer, he growled, “Trying to molest me again? You‘re really thirsty, aren‘t you?”

Irene bit her lip. “You‘re shameless!” “Me?” Isaac chuckled lightly, but it sounded like a dull syllable grunted from his chest. “You‘re the one touching me, aren‘t you?”

It was only then that Irene realized in shock that both her hands were pushing against his chest. She never would have realized such intimacy if he did not tell her, and she flinched as she withdrew her hands, as if his hot, muscular chest burned her.

Even so, his warmth lingered in her palms, leaving her flustered and unsure where to look.

Her throat felt parched even as she explained, “That

wasn‘t on purpose.”

alluring, stirring the impulses of anyone that got too

in anything in the world. Straightening himself, he slowly tied up his sash as he

cook for him, and he sneered. “You‘re my wife, no matter how unwilling you are. You‘ll do

his

the washroom, feeling a little hungry as well since she did

up the food Mrs. Watson cooked, she quickly moved

over the dining table with an unfathomable expression. Through it all, Irene was

not try to nitpick, but she messed up anyway as she felt like throwing up after a

at the dining table,

headed to

remembered that her period was late, although it had always come at the same time

must be scaring herself. Still, she was distracted even as she returned to the dining table, picking up a

tightened–did she somehow offended him again? But she did

with a forced smile, holding back an impulse

him.

every waking moment? Was he not going to rest if he did not torture her

have poisoned the food if

cut himself a slice of chicken and chewed slowly with a mysterious look on

him this time, Irene continued to eat, when she suddenly realized that her spoon was

beside her own bowl.

in her

and finally saw that

felt like her head

was using Isaac‘s

slowly with a gleeful look,” Irene Spencer...

he could not explain what he was

to explain, but did not know where to

spoon he used, and her lips touched where his did when she drank

Argh!!!

as an indirect kiss? She would rather be

“That was an accident...”