Ahn Sohee fought the billowing plastic-covered gown the wind was trying to blow out of her hands as she trotted down the sidewalk. Hurricane Roy, two days off the coast of Seoul, was wreaking havoc with Seoul's normally mild climate. Leave it to a man to ruin her wedding weekend. She'd only been planning this day since the age of seven - 23 years in the making and the lousy weather couldn't cooperate?

Her friend, Bae Suzy, scrambled to keep up, getting an early start on her maid-of-honor duties by carrying the flapping train. "Sohee," she shouted. "Couldn't you have had your gown delivered?"

Sohee's dark hair whipped around her face, blinding her. "They were going to charge me an arm and a leg." The balance of her checking account was practically zero, even with Khun 's parents footing nearly all of the bill. Her dress, veil, shoes, bridesmaids' gifts, and wedding gift to Khun  had nearly bankrupted her.

She stepped off the curb, determined not to be late returning from lunch yet again. Their boss, JYP, had frowned and pointed to his calculator watch as they'd left the advertising agency.

"Slow down," Suzy said behind her. "I can't - Watch out!"

Sohee's scream registered the same instant she was catapulted into the air. Funny, but when she'd shopped for a wedding gown, she hadn't thought to check its impact absorption, but she was glad she'd chosen the train with the Fiberfil-stuffed roses when she landed on her back on top of the ensemble.

She couldn't breathe and realized that all had gone dark. She was dead - dead before she had the chance to walk down the aisle in a white dress with a seven-and-a-half-foot train. Where was the justice?

But when Suzy's muffled wailing reached her ears, she realized she wasn't dead after all. Another gust tore the plastic-wrapped bodice from her face, and she blinked the blustery sky into view. Then her friend's tearful face entered her line of vision, sideways, followed by the upside-down face of a stranger, a man.

"Are you okay?" he asked, kneeling close.

"What happened?" she mumbled stupidly. Obviously she'd been hit by a delivery van or a semi.

"Skateboarder," the upside-down man said. "Kid didn't even stop."

Great - only she could be involved in a hit-and-run accident so pathetically anticlimactic.

"Can you sit up?" he asked.

She nodded, and he pulled her upright while Suzy caterwauled in the background.

"Anything broken?"

Her mobility seemed intact, although she suspected she'd be black-and-blue tomorrow - just the look she'd been hoping for in her bridal portraits. She shook her head and lifted her gaze to the Good Samaritan, then froze.

Those Brown eyes - Kwon Jiyong? It couldn't be - but it was. Same thick brown hair, same handsome jaw with the scar he'd received while catching a pass in the homecoming football game against their high school's arch rival. In the span of a pulse beat, she flashed back to prom night 15 years ago, when she had experienced the single most mortifying night of her life in the company of Kwon Jiyong , senior and big man on campus. The memory still made her writhe in agonized embarrassment in the wee hours of the morning.

Darn it, where was a good abyss to jump into when a girl needed one?

"Ma'am, are you sure you're all right?"

Ma'am. Well, of course he wouldn't recognize her - she'd been just another girl who fell asleep with his picture under her pillow. Why he'd asked her to the senior prom was a miracle she hadn't questioned. And after the humiliating events of that night, she'd gone to great lengths to ensure their paths never crossed again. Oh, sure, she'd dreamed of an accidental reunion, but in her fantasies she'd been on the arm of a billionaire sheik, not sprawled in the street, half-addled.

"Ma'am?" Jiyong looked at her and a spark of …something …flashed in his eyes. "Do I know you?"