The neon glare of Lumina Square bled into the rain-slicked pavement, casting shimmering hues of pink and blue across the crowd. Remielle Dan ducked under the wooden awning of a hidden, traditional tea shop, her jaw clenched. She had spent the entire evening fuming, utterly convinced she was being sold off to some decrepit, creepy old corporate geezer who probably couldn't walk without a cane.Lost in her bitter thoughts, she hard with someone stepping out.The wet wood of the entryway gave way under her boot. Remielle braced for a humiliating fall, but a single, remarkably strong hand clamped around her waist, locking her in place with effortless stability. The man holding her was exactly her height, looking to be her precise age. He wore a modern, charcoal-toned male yukata beneath a heavy midnight-blue haori that draped elegantly over his shoulders. His left sleeve hung empty and pinned neatly to his side, revealing he was missing an arm. A clean, rugged scar scored vertically across his left eye, the clouded iris beneath. His hair was a messy, artfully moles. A fierce, possessive pang of regret shot through her chest as his messy black-and-grey hair vanished into the neon fog. She felt physically sick knowing she had to leave this gorgeous stranger behind to go meet a literal fossil.An hour later, Remielle arrived at the high-end, secluded Japanese-themed villa where the dreaded meeting was to take place. The scent of moss and cedar filled the air. Walking down the engawa corridor, she masked her face in a cold, resentful scowl, fully prepared to slide the door open and tell the old man exactly where he could shove his marriage proposal.She slammed the shoji screen open.Sitting cross-legged on a tatami mat, framed by the warm, golden glow of stone lanterns, was the exact same man from the street.The heavy haori was draped over his shoulders, his glasses reflecting the lantern light. But right now, his serious, handsome face was completely ruined by the fact that he was blissfully tearing into a bright blue ring pop, a small mountain of jellybean wrappers already piled on the antique wooden table next to him"Well," hilariously with his childish snack. "It seems we've already introduced ourselves."The icy wall around Remielle's heart didn't just crack; it dissolved into an electric, possessive heat.Instead of walking over to the formal cushion placed directly across from him, Remielle marched straight around the table. She purposefully bypassed the boundaries of high-society etiquette and sat down right next to him, her thigh brushing against the dark fabric of his yukata. "You know," Remielle teased, her voice dropping into a low, playful purr as she looked from his sharp glasses down to his soft lips, "you conveniently forgot to mention your name out in the street. And here I thought I was being forced to marry a creepy old geezer..." She reached out, her fingers boldly tracing the edge of his midnight-blue haori. "...not a devastatingly pretty guy with the sugar addiction of a five-year-old." Kaelen froze, a rare blush creeping up his neck, darkening the skin right beneath the two moles on his cheek as he stared at the confident woman who had just invaded his personal space.