Find me in your labyrinth (Stella and Jonathan) novel Chapter 3465

The desk was covered in Buddhist scriptures. It was completely inappropriate to act like this in such a pure, serene space!

Carson hauled her to her feet, an infuriatingly charming smirk on his face. "Go copy your scriptures, baby."

Marina glared at him. "And what about you?"

Carson scoffed lightly. "You're the one who volunteered for this!"

Annoyed, Marina demanded, "Then you can grind the ink for me."

This time, Carson didn't argue. His voice dropped into a sickeningly sweet, indulgent register. "Alright, I'll grind the ink for my sweet Marina."

A violent shudder ran down Marina's spine at his tone.

As the man stood up and moved away, Marina's heart continued to hammer wildly against her ribs. She forced herself to stare out the window, only acting completely unfazed when she felt his searching gaze linger on her.

While he prepped the ink, Marina browsed the study once more. She noticed the bookshelves held an incredibly diverse collection. A single classic novel would have editions from multiple different countries, and every single one looked well-read, filled with sticky notes and annotations.

The handwriting was elegant and refined, identical to the script in the copied sutras. It was unmistakably Mrs. Foster's penmanship.

Judging by a quick glance, Marina deduced that Mrs. Foster was fluent in at least five foreign languages.

A heavy sigh welled in her chest. Mrs. Foster was a truly remarkable woman. It seemed like a tragic waste for someone so brilliant to confine herself to this quiet little corner of the world.

A profound sense of shared melancholy washed over her, instantly sobering her up and completely extinguishing the lingering arousal from their kiss.

Putting the book back, Marina turned around. Carson was perched casually on the edge of the desk, grinding the ink. His long, muscular arm moved with fluid grace, his long fingers wrapped around the ink block. He looked devastatingly handsome, effortlessly bridging the gap between refined elegance and dangerous playboy.

In profile, he looked exactly like his mother.

Marina walked behind the desk, rolling out the traditional paper and securing it with a heavy paperweight. She opened the scripture, found the exact spot where Mrs. Foster had left off, and selected a brush.

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