The house was even more breathtaking in person than it had been in the photos.
We pulled up the long, tree-lined driveway, snow-covered branches creating a white canopy overhead, and my breath caught in my throat.
The Historic Family Manor.
It was a 19th-century restoration, all stone exterior with ivy climbing the walls... dormant now in winter but I could imagine how it would look in spring, lush and green and alive.
Fifteen acres of manicured gardens stretched out in every direction, currently blanketed in pristine snow that sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.
"Oh my God," I breathed.
Kael's hand found mine, squeezing gently. "Want to see inside?"
I nodded, unable to form words.
The real estate agent, a polished woman named Victoria was waiting at the front entrance, her smile warm and professional.
"Ms. Thorne, Mr. Roman," she greeted. "Welcome. Shall we?"
She led us through the massive front doors into an entrance hall that belonged in a museum.
