For the past twenty-five years, Serena Stanton has lived cautiously, yet always with all her heart. She never believed in fate, and certainly wouldn't let anyone drive her to despair or pull her into the mud.
In front of him, she could open up without any reservations, laughing freely, talking excitedly, her bright spirit lighting up the mood of everyone around her.
Holding her as she whispered to him all night long, Adrian's heart felt full to the brim.
For all she'd endured, for every step of her growth, and for her resilient, gentle soul.
Suddenly remembering something, Serena slipped from his arms and sat up. Sometime in the night, three buttons on her nightgown had come undone, revealing a swath of snowy, delicate skin that instantly caught Adrian's attention.
The ambiguous red marks were especially vivid, like a decadent plum blossom standing out in the snow.
Adrian jerked his chin toward her chest, his tone unreadable. "What's this?"
