If it weren’t for the black prayer beads that were revealed with a raise of his hand, Victoria Monroe would have suspected he had changed.
The current Rhys Hawthorne seed shrouded in a layer of mist, making him even more inscrutable to her.
He clearly stood in the light and shadow, yet exuded both good and evil.
Though appearing refined, Victoria felt that behind his gentle exterior lay sharp fangs, ready to tear her apart if she wasn’t careful.
She should be afraid of him, but a voice inside told her not to fear Rhys, that Rhys would never harm her.
Like now, his kisses fell densely on the back of her hand, reminding her of last night’s sensations.
Victoria’s face turned redder, and she hastily found an excuse, "I’m hungry."
Rhys was actually hungry too, in every sense.
He slowly put down his hand but didn’t let go. Instead, he interlocked fingers with Victoria, his lowered brows and eyes showing a hint of indulgence, "Alright, let’s go have breakfast."
After last night’s events, he had seen all of her embarrassing monts, making their physical contact feel much more natural.
Victoria stared at their intertwined hands, feeling a strange sensation in her heart.
Rhys treated her as if she were his girlfriend.
She always felt sothing was amiss.
But Rhys had made it clear early on; he treated her as his wife.
With flowers in her hair, Victoria was drawn into his palm by his long fingers, strolling through the palm groves on the island’s clear morning.
Life could be like this.
She didn’t have to worry about any image, whether this drama would be a hit, nor did she have to drink herbal dicine every day, thinking of bearing children for soone.
She just needed to feel the morning breeze, with a faint fragrance in the air.
It was freedom.
After breakfast, they left the island. The upcoming journey would be rather dull; they were setting off for Kenton.
Rhys checked the ti, "If there are no delays, we can reach the harbor in about five days, just in ti for two days before your grandmother’s funeral."
"Mm."
At the ntion of grandmother, Victoria’s heart felt heavy.
If Julian Fordham hadn’t forced her and her grandmother away, her grandmother might have lived another year or so.
She could accept the fall of life, but not the way the elderly, who loved her all her life, left so resolutely.
In the end, she never got to see the day when her grandmother died peacefully.
Seeing Victoria’s face full of sorrow, Rhys pulled her into his arms, "Victoria, as long as you’re well, your grandmother would be happy in the afterlife."
"Mm."
Victoria buried her head into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist, "Thank you for being with through these sad days."
Rhys gently stroked her hair, "I’ll stay with you for the rest of your life; I’ll be here every day."
The sea breeze lifted their hair, and the sea surface ruffled into ripples.
The farther north they traveled, the colder the temperature beca.
The room was very warm, knowing Victoria liked to walk barefoot, the bedroom had a thick carpet laid out.
Victoria sat cross-legged on the floor, speaking in not-so-standard Italian.
Rhys kept his promise; he would teach her everything.
Truly loving soone isn’t clipping her wings, chaining her by your side, keeping her in a cage every day to admire her beauty.
He would let her lost feathers grow back, and one day, she would spread her wings, standing beside him, sharing the wind and rain.
This is the most beautiful form of love or marriage.
Victoria was quite smart. In the words of her teacher, "This child is clever, but doesn’t put her heart into studying."
She morized lines very quickly, but when it was study ti, Victoria would put a book over her face, exclaiming, "So hard, so hard."
Rhys chuckled softly, "Don’t you want to know if Julian Fordham is badmouthing you in conversations with others? If you give up now, you still won’t understand later."
He raised a hand to gently caress her hair, "Honestly, if you don’t want to learn, it’s okay. With such advanced technology now, I can get you real-ti translation earbuds. You’ll definitely understand what he’s saying."
Victoria uncovered the book with so helplessness, "Rhys, if you spoil like this, how will you be a strict father when our child is born?"
"I just don’t want you to have too hard a ti."
As he spoke, he peeled grapes for her.
Even at sea, Victoria’s als rivaled those of an empress, with extraordinarily fresh, juicy grapes.
Rhys brought it to her lips, and Victoria opened her mouth and took a bite.
Suddenly recalling what the man had said in the dark before, Victoria mischievously took both the grape and his hand into her mouth.
Feeling a soft, wet touch on his fingertips, Rhys’s body tensed.
Victoria bit into the grape, and the juice trickled down his fingers.
She smiled brightly, "Little master, your fingers are wet. Do you want to help clean them for you?"
These days, Victoria Monroe’s true nature surfaced. She was playful, adorable, like a big child.
She knew full well she was teasing him.
Did this little fool even realize how captivating she was being?
Yet, he had to maintain his persona, afraid of letting Victoria find out he was lying.
After that night on the island, they hadn’t done it again.
At night, they simply slept together, nothing more.
Watching Victoria’s face, so pure yet alluring, Rhys Hawthorne felt a surge of warmth.
Suppressing the deep-seated desire within him, he managed a stern face, "Stop ssing around, be good and eat your grapes."
After saying this, he went to the bathroom to wash his hands. Victoria, resting her cheek on her hand, thought to herself that indeed, he was hopeless!
If he were a normal man, he would’ve pounced long ago at such teasing.
Holding a book, Victoria read tongue-twisting words, as if returning to early middle school reading sessions.
She was fueled by a determination, Julian Fordham thought she could only be a trophy wife at ho, but she refused to be as he imagined.
From now on, her life would be like an adventure, and she would try more possibilities and fields.
Maybe she wasn’t just ant to act but had confined herself to that fra from the start.
Rhys Hawthorne aid to break that fra and reshape Victoria Monroe’s life.
Seeing the snowflakes drifting outside, Victoria didn’t notice Rhys had been in the bathroom too long.
Slipping on her slippers, she walked out of the room, greeted by a rush of cold air.
Victoria had seen heavy snow and the ocean.
But she had never seen snow on the ocean.
When Rhys found her, she appeared in the swirling snowflakes, pure as a little fairy.
Her eyes finally glead with light.
She held out her hands to catch the snowflakes, strands of her hair already dusted, even her eyelashes crystallized with white.
Rhys marveled once more at her perfect face, flawless!
Strangely, though her grandmother had typically Asian features, Victoria had a sculpted face, fair complexion, and striking features resembling a mixed race.
Amidst the swirling snowflakes, she was so beautiful she made Rhys’ heart stir again.
Wrapped in a warm coat, Victoria looked at Rhys with delight, "Little master, it’s snowing."
"Yeah, I see it." Rhys lowered his eyes, his gaze filled with Victoria’s smiling face.
Victoria couldn’t help but say, "It’s my first ti seeing snow on the ocean, it’s so beautiful!"
"Yes, it’s indeed beautiful."
"You think so too, right? I... hmm..."
Rhys sealed her words with his lips, inch by inch, drawing Victoria into his embrace through the coat.
Cold snowflakes landed on their lips, lted away by their warmth.
Victoria opened her big eyes, startled and surprised as she looked at him.
Rhys would forever rember the feeling of this mont.
It turned out the scene of her kissing Julian Fordham in the snow back then was so wonderful.
A kiss under the first snow, romantic and heart-stirring.
With the cold wind blowing, Rhys wrapped her tightly, shielding her from the chilly air on all sides.
Victoria felt like she was in a world of both ice and fire, her cheeks cold, her lips burning.
The man’s lips gently caressed hers, "Victoria, in my heart, you’re the most beautiful."
As their eyes t, Victoria could hear the wild beating of her own heart.
She quickly pushed Rhys away and hurried back inside.
Victoria’s mind was in disarray. How could she develop such feelings for Rhys?
Not to ntion she had only been divorced not long ago, and Rhys wasn’t soone she should fantasize about.
The man followed her back inside, seemingly seeing the confusion and helplessness in her eyes.
He was a guiding lover and was not in a hurry.
Rhys changed the subject, "Are your hands cold?"
Victoria responded blankly, "A bit."
The man took her hand; she thought he would warm her with his own.
Unexpectedly, the next mont, Rhys guided her hand to his abdon, "Warm them here."
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