The Runaway Groom

"Okay," Isaac answered softly.

They arrived outside a nice restaurant, and he threw the car keys to the valet as soon as he alighted before heading inside with an arm around Irene.

It was a Franconian restaurant with local specialties: beef bourguignon, foie gras, escargot, and the like.

However, Irene preferred Zidonian food—there were not that many foreign dishes that suited her palate.

Naturally, Isaac could tell that she did not like it. "I'll take you to a Zidonian restaurant next time."

"Good," Irene replied. "Our country's food is more to my taste."

Isaac raised a brow. "Our country's food is special in its way, but you should learn to accept different flavors too. It's a bad habit to be picky." "Am I being picky?" Irene asked.

"Yes."

Irene was speechless—how was she being picky? Just because she was not used to foreign food?

stomach was Zidonian and rejected other food. "Here, you can have this," she

plate before the others. Sheryl sighed, speechless

Irene, "Make it fast.

“I know," Irene replied.

her arm around his. "I'l

as long as you want.” Isaac pretended

smiled. "What, going to have more business

throat. "Well, work depends on

at him, her lips almost on his ear. "Cheat on me, and I'll get someone better looking

her sideways. "Are

yourself if you don't want me to cheat on

her into his arms with one arm and tousled her hair.

Didn't you know?" Irene said, gently biting him on the ear before pulling

and amused. "Does