Ha.
That strong scent of jealousy.
Ann Vaughn suppressed the smile at her lips and explained, "When I found out the nourishnt for thorny roses is bones and blood, I couldn’t like them at all anymore. The card said I liked them, but that was just soone’s will imposed on ."
The one who loved thorny roses was Warren Vance, not her.
She preferred delicate, hard-to-tend roses, and she didn’t feel embarrassed to admit it.
Unless left with no choice, no one wants to struggle in a harsh and demanding environnt.
Upon hearing her explanation, Cyrus Hawthorne’s expression remained unchanged, with a hint of coldness hidden in his narrow gaze.
"Oh? Has your relationship with that person beco so profound that he can impose his will on you?"
GW could be initials or a code; finding it wouldn’t be easy.
Thorny roses are unique to the coastal regions beyond the domain, and the surrounding nations and islands are nurous, making it not difficult to pick such flowers.
Only White Mandala is the national flower of the Kingdom of Gothasen.
Soone able to use the national flower of Gothasen as a symbol obviously has a high status...
Ann Vaughn didn’t notice the fleeting deep aning on Cyrus Hawthorne’s face and was montarily stunned by his words.
Uh?
No, is this question capable of being understood this way?
She pouted slightly, "Such beautiful scenery ahead, can’t you ntion people who spoil the mood?"
Just hearing that na had caused her nightmares for two days.
Upon hearing this, the gloom in Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes gradually faded, and the cold sharpness in his brows softened considerably, with a faint smile in his voice: "As you say."
Thud, thud.
Ann Vaughn’s little heart couldn’t help but flutter a few beats, her porcelain-white face turning red.
What is he teasing now?
"I-I’ll go out and get close to these little darlings!" In a panic, Ann Vaughn wanted to escape outside.
"Five minutes." A deep voice rang behind her a second later, leaving her no room for refusal, "One second over, and bear the consequences."
Ann Vaughn: "..."
Is this man a parent of an elentary school child or what?!
As the facts proved, he really was.
As soon as five minutes were up, Ann Vaughn was grabbed by the scruff of her neck like a little rabbit and taken back into the villa by Cyrus Hawthorne.
Outside the cold wind howled, and occasionally snowflakes drifted down, forming a thin layer of white frost on the ground.
Her hands, which had finally ward up, quickly cooled down after being outside for a while.
Skipping past the teasing glance from Uncle Dexter who was cleaning a vase, Cyrus Hawthorne led Ann Vaughn all the way upstairs and then directly took her into the bathroom.
The hot water was just right; the stripped naked little rabbit was thrown into the bathtub, and her skin blood into a rosy pink, not knowing whether it was from the steam or from embarrassnt.
"Cyrus Hawthorne, am I actually your wife or your daughter?!" Ann Vaughn subrged her entire body into the water in embarrassnt, only her small head poking out.
She’s not Kenny!
If he acts as he does with Kenny, she might as well deal with it, but she didn’t need him to help her undress!
Cyrus Hawthorne, carrying her pajamas, returned to the bathroom, his brow slightly raised upon hearing her, "Only children see snow and can’t move."
"...What are you doing in here? I can wash myself!" Ann Vaughn initially wanted to retort, but seeing no sign of him leaving, her face grew even more flushed in embarrassnt and anger.
Cyrus Hawthorne gave her a faint sideways glance, his undisguised gaze slowly swept over the water surface, "If you want, you can."
Splash!
Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but splash him with a handful of water, sowhat exasperated: "I don’t want to at all! You better hurry up and get out!"
This man doesn’t miss a chance to tease her.
He wasn’t like this before!
It was naturally different.
There’s a difference between prey testing beside the trap and prey already caught in the trap, unable to escape.
Realizing her intention to splash him, Cyrus Hawthorne didn’t evade, letting her splash him; his white shirt wetted instantly.
Faintly revealing the well-defined abdominal muscles beneath the shirt...
He slightly lifted the corners of his lips, his gaze holding deep aning as he looked at Ann Vaughn: "Seems you haven’t learned your lesson yet."
Ann Vaughn watched him suddenly beco dangerous, as he walked towards her, sohow overlapping with the cold nace he’d once displayed in the bathroom...
Her knees reflexively started to ache.
"Wait! You have a dicinal bath and acupuncture later, all the herbs are ready!" Ann Vaughn feigned composure, retreating to the edge of the bathtub, but her voice betrayed her panic.
The man had already co to her, long fingers cupping her cheeks, as he lowered his head, planting a gentle kiss on her trembling lashes.
"You are my redy."
Ann Vaughn’s mind buzzed with an explosion, her eyes dazedly wide, the gaze fixed unwavering on the suprely handso face before her.
Did she just mishear?
Does he know what he is saying?
In rely a dozen seconds, Ann Vaughn’s brain and body were no longer under her control.
She reached out her slender arms to hug his neck, head slightly tilted upwards, her eyes subtly reddish from the uncontrollable tension in her heart, carrying a hint of allure: "Bitter dicine."
Cyrus Hawthorne laughed softly, his thin lips lightly brushing her rosy mouth, gently kissing.
"You are sweet."
An old nursery rhy says that girls are made of sugar, spice, and everything nice.
Ann Vaughn, to him, was just that.
...
Upon waking the next day, Ann Vaughn sat in a daze for nearly half an hour before gathering her senses.
It seed she had dread last night.
Dreamt that Cyrus Hawthorne said she was his redy, nearly confessing his heart.
She couldn’t help but pinch her thigh... strange, not hurting at all, it truly seed like a dream!
"Mommy, do the baby’s hands feel comfortable when pinched?" A small, soft voice suddenly rang out from under the quilt, startling Ann Vaughn, who pulled back the quilt to find Kenny sleeping next to her.
"Baby, why are you sleeping here?" Ann Vaughn reluctantly pinched his little hand, then picked him up.
Kenny rubbed his eyes, yawning, "The Archfiend carried over and asked to tell Mommy a few things."
"What things?" Ann Vaughn rubbed her slightly aching waist, muttering to herself, he wouldn’t hold a grudge, would he?
Last night the bathtub water turned cold three tis before he let her go.
She was exhausted, almost falling asleep when he carried her to bed, and finally rembered the dicinal bath and acupuncture, struggling to get up.
Her heart annoyed, she didn’t go easy when applying the needles.
Yet he seed unaware, his brows not even furrowing, leaving Ann Vaughn deeply unsatisfied.
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