The White Peaks were blanketed in heavy, blinding snow.

For a Southerner like Violette Ellis, who held a deep-seated obsession with the sight of snow, the grandeur of the landscape never failed to leave her breathless. She had come here specifically to put distance between herself and Blake Pierce. After arriving in the snowy wonderland, the lingering, fragmented thoughts of Blake that had haunted her mind simply evaporated. *Blake who? Doesn't ring a bell.*

She checked into the Park Hyatt immediately. That same evening, Violette went to experience the natural hot springs. As night fell and the lanterns were lit, the stone walls and wooden architecture amidst the silver-white snow looked like something ripped straight from a fairy tale.

Curiously, despite it being peak tourist season, the outdoor hot spring was completely empty.

While Violette was out, the Park Hyatt manager was personally delivering late-night snacks and fruit to their suite. After setting the tray down, he lingered by the table.

"I heard Mrs. Griffin wanted to use the springs, so we’ve cleared out the outdoor area for your private use," the manager said.

"Will that inconvenience other guests?" Roman Griffin asked.

"Not at all, sir. It’s just a temporary closure of one section."

"Much appreciated," Roman nodded.

"Mr. Griffin, our regional director is on his way. He was hoping to discuss the regional distribution rights with you. If you have a moment..."

The sales figures for V-Oasis VR were impossible to ignore. Given the sheer scale of the company, direct sales were becoming unmanageable. The moment they opened the doors to franchising, bids had flooded in like a snowstorm.

"I’m here to accompany my wife on vacation. I’m not interested in business," Roman said, his tone stalling for a beat. "However, since he’s already on his way, I suppose I can spare thirty minutes. Think of it as having tea."

"That would be wonderful!"

By the time Violette returned, the tea had only just been finished. On the Chinese-style tea table sat two bone china bowls, a pale celadon green that made the man sitting across from them look as calm and refined as polished jade.

"You didn't go to the springs?"

Violette was biting into an ice cream bar, her lips puffing out little clouds of frost as she spoke. She scanned the room and asked, "Did you have a guest?"

"This trip didn't go to waste," Roman said. "Thanks to you, I just closed a significant deal."

Violette turned to hang up her heavy winter coat, her teeth sinking into the ice cream as she mumbled, "Business just walked right to your door?"

"Naturally."

Roman stood up to wash his hands, then reached over to take the ice cream from her.

"Eating ice cream in this weather? What kind of hobby is that?"

Violette’s teeth were chattering from the cold, yet a surge of warmth was rising through her body. She licked her dry lips. "Everyone says you have to have a popsicle after a hot spring soak to really feel the experience. I just had to try it."

Her mood had clearly lifted, and the playful lilt in her voice made one’s heart sway. Roman’s eyes darkened, though his tone remained gentle. "Don't force it if you can't finish it. You'll end up with a stomachache later."

"It would be a shame to waste it," Violette countered. "This is a local specialty—way richer than anything you can get in Deepwater."

And certainly more substantial, too.

She ate the massive ice cream bar slowly, right under his watchful gaze. Roman held out his hand to her. She froze. "Huh? You want some?"

"Didn't you say it would be a shame to waste it?"

"But... I’ve already eaten from this." She tried to protest.

Roman just looked at her, saying nothing. Violette stood there, feeling that heat rushing to her face again. She read the unspoken message in his expression: *We’ve shared everything else, what are you afraid of?*

The remaining half of the ice cream belonged to Roman.

Violette ducked into the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water twice, but the heat blooming on her cheeks wouldn't fade. It had to be the heating in the North—it was just way too powerful. That was the excuse she was sticking to.

When she stepped out, the rest of the ice cream was gone.

"Was it any good?" she asked.

Roman didn't actually like things with a heavy dairy base, but he replied, "It was."

"I told you, it’d be a waste to throw it out."

She was carrying her pajamas, brushing past him with a trail of faint perfume. Just as she was about to duck into the bedroom, Roman caught her from behind.

"Time for bed?"

"It’s only nine..." Violette thought. A man and a woman, fresh on their honeymoon—this was the perfect time for *other* things.

"There’s a midnight snack. Want some?"

"..."

So he meant actual food, not that.

Violette turned her head, exposing the elegant, pale curve of her neck to him. He couldn't see her face, but judging by the crimson flush creeping up her ears, she knew her expression must be incredibly vivid.

His grip tightened, then released.

"The night is still young," Roman said. "We can eat first, then do the rest."

"..."

Because of that comment, a jolt went through Violette’s nerves, and she accidentally bit the inside of her cheek.

Roman Griffin was a man of his word.

While Violette ate her snack, he went into the master bath to shower. When it was her turn to freshen up, he was right there on the other side of the double vanity, grooming himself with a slow, meticulous precision that seemed unwilling to waste a single minute of the atmosphere.

Was he always like this?

Violette held a mouthful of mouthwash, thinking slowly. Or had she just been too shallow, focusing too little on him before? She caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, but he was already watching her. Their eyes met.

Roman reached out, took a tissue, and gently dabbed the corner of her mouth.

"If I didn't know you were rinsing, I’d think you were trying to imitate a little fish blowing bubbles."

The mouthful of mouthwash caught in her throat. She nearly swallowed it. Violette grabbed the edge of the vanity, coughing violently. She thought to herself: *I really didn't know him at all. Who knew he was the type to tell such childish jokes?*

The coughs came in waves. Roman patted her back softly, his tone returning to its usual composure. "My apologies. My fault."

Violette waved a hand, but when she looked up, her eyes were swimming with tears from the coughing fit.

She had just been choking, but to the man watching her, it looked like something else entirely. Roman reached out, his thumb swiping heavily across the corner of her eye. He moved closer, his deep, intense features reflected in her pupils. His other hand cupped her chin, tilting her head up until their noses brushed.

Roman’s hand slid down, his thumb pressing against the seam of her lips.

Any more pressure and his finger would sink into the soft, yielding warmth of her mouth. He knew the taste of it all too well, and he didn't expect Violette—recklessly—to wrap her tongue around his fingertip, giving it a light, lingering suck.

The string in his heart finally snapped.

Roman pulled his hand away and swept her up into his arms, carrying her toward the bedroom.

"Roman, we didn't bring any—"

"There are some in the bag," he said, leaving no room for argument.

Violette looked up at him, biting his chin. "You... you were planning this all along."

*Yes.* And what if he was?

Their entire marriage had been something he’d planned for. He ignored the weak accusation, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then her eyes, then the tip of her nose. The few steps from the bathroom to the bedroom were just enough for him to press a kiss to every inch of her.

The mattress dipped under their combined weight. He hovered over her, palms pressed into the mattress on either side of her head, leaning down slowly.

A single wall lamp seemed determined to illuminate the night, acting like a nuisance standing between them. Roman abruptly reached out and extinguished the only light source. There were no city lights outside to break the dark, only the sound of snow dusting against the windowpane. As the light died, the world was swallowed by darkness.

Roman squinted, pausing for a few seconds as if searching for something.

Finally, he leaned down and claimed the beauty mark resting at the base of her throat.