Chương 21: Chapter 21: Not Caring, Hence Not Being Nervous

"You have a strong psychological quality."

In the huge room, it was quiet enough to hear the rustling sound of the leather seat as Stanhope Brown sat up straight.

Grace Gordon remained silent, her face full of doubt.

"How could a girl, without extraordinary psychological quality, calmly get dressed when she's caught cheating on her fiancé?" Stanhope Brown's eyes were calm and unfathomable, making it impossible to read him.

Stanhope Brown gave Grace Gordon some leeway, without exposing everything...

Being so calm under such circumstances could either be due to inner strength or simply because the girl didn't love her fiancé, and wouldn't care about losing the engagement. One could even say that she was looking forward to it.

She didn't care...so she didn't worry.

Grace Gordon remembered...that day, she wasn't the only one who calmly dressed. At that time, Stanhope Brown's fiancée, Ava Mansfield, appeared in the room with Lewis Yale.

Disappointment filled Lewis Yale's eyes, while Ava Mansfield cried hysterically...and rushed out like a madwoman.

But this man calmly got dressed, ordered his assistant to buy morning-after pills for Grace Gordon, and sat down to discuss the matter without chasing after Ava Mansfield.

That day, neither of them had any memories of the previous night. Stanhope Brown accurately deduced that they must have been drugged, and quickly dealt with the news.

Stanhope Brown didn't know what happened between them that night, so if Grace Gordon needed him to take responsibility, he would marry her. If she didn't want to get married, he hoped she would take the medicine as a precaution to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Grace Gordon left after swallowing the contraceptive pill in front of Stanhope Brown, without any extra words... Her actions showed she didn't want any involvement with him in the future.

Grace Gordon withdrew her thoughts and looked at the man in front of her with profound features. It seemed Stanhope Brown thought she was as cold and calm as him, even cold-blooded.

But Grace Gordon and him were not the same kind of people.

Grace Gordon's tightly clenched hands were turning somewhat white at the knuckles.

"Mr. Secretary of State, my psychological strength is not as strong as you might think. Besides, I am already married, and divorcing to marry you...would truly harm your reputation unnecessarily. You are called the Nation's Male God, with countless women who like you...and there are many more outstanding women than me. I am grateful for your life-saving grace, but I'm afraid I don't have the ability to work for you."

Stanhope Brown was indifferent and composed. He lit a cigarette, holding it with his slender, white fingers, and pressed his temples again: "Help me press it"

His tone was slightly tired...full of seduction and bewitchment.

Grace Gordon felt awkward at once. Press it?

It wasn't that she didn't know how. Old Master Gordon often had headaches and she used to help him massage his head to alleviate them.

But without clearing things up, any physical contact with Stanhope Brown left her at a loss. Seeing that he seemed to be in genuine pain, she still walked over to his side.

With the sofa against the wall, Grace Gordon couldn't stand behind Stanhope Brown to massage him. She didn't want to stand in front of him either, as that would be too intimate.

Grace Gordon had no choice but to kneel on one knee beside Stanhope Brown. She reached her arm around the back of his head, her slender fingers pressing on his temples, gently rubbing them.

The cool fingertips pressed gently, making Stanhope Brown's head feel much looser.

Grace Gordon's faint scent lingered at the tip of his nose, entering his nostrils with her movements... Stanhope Brown's breathing became slightly heavier.

"Does it hurt?" Grace Gordon asked softly.

Stanhope Brown's dry, powerful hand covered Grace Gordon's, startling her and making her instinctively want to pull away. But he held her tightly, gently moving her hand to a new position, and then withdrew his own.

Grace Gordon's heart pounded violently, so much so that her fingertips pressing on Stanhope Brown's acupuncture points trembled as well.

The cigarette in Stanhope Brown's ashtray still emitted a white smoke. Grace Gordon thought...out of gratitude for saving her life, she should remind him.

"You smoke too much, and your headaches might be related to that. Quitting smoking might help a bit."

"Hmm..."

Stanhope Brown responded lightly, seeming to feel comfortable.

Grace Gordon didn't know how much time had passed. Her arm was sore, and her leg was numb from kneeling for so long.

Stanhope seemed to be asleep, so Grace slowly moved her fingers to leave quietly. As soon as her feet touched the floor, she felt a piercing numbness.

Grace nearly fell onto Stanhope's lap, but he quickly caught her with his strong arms, holding onto her waist.

"Numb?" Stanhope asked.

"Relax...sit down for a bit, and it'll be fine."

Grace felt as if she was sitting on pins and needles. She reflexively tried to stand up when she touched Stanhope's legs but was held tightly in his arms, unable to move, forced to stay in his embrace.

Stanhope looked down at the woman in his arms, his sparkling eyes full of depth, hidden beneath his lashes, as if they contained the whole night sky.

A kiss...

"Stanhope Brown!" Grace cried out his name, panic in her voice.

Stanhope's big hand withdrew from Grace's sweater but lingered on her body for a while.

"Mr. Secretary of State..." Grace's throat tightened.

After being kidnapped the last time, Grace knew she was no match against any man, so she dared not act recklessly.

Stanhope saw the fear in Grace's eyes and stretched out his hand to brush away the strands of hair covering her eyes. He then sat up and lit another cigarette.

Grace quickly sat up as well, fixing her clothes and hair, her fingers covering her bruised lips, her eyes reddening.

Grace disliked being treated this way. She felt humiliated and deeply wronged.

"Your sister isn't cut out for business. Just like you, she has a poor ability to judge people and is easily blinded by emotions," Stanhope said amidst the smoke, his voice subdued.

Initially, this matter had nothing to do with Stanhope, and he didn't want to say anything. However, perhaps as an apology for his previous indiscretion, he gave Grace a little wake-up call.

Grace hesitated, then asked, swallowing her own resentment, "Can you...be clearer about this?"

As Grace looked at the silent man, his sharp, cold features accentuated by the puffs of white smoke, he replied, "You're smart, you'll understand."

"Mr. Secretary of State..."

As Grace opened her mouth to speak, the phone rang. The incoming call only displayed the phone number, one that Grace was all too familiar with – Lewis Yale's.

The phone rang urgently, and Grace glanced at Stanhope before answering, "Hello..."

"What did you say to my mother?" Lewis's voice was low and slightly impatient, filled with a sense of accusation.

Grace glanced at Stanhope and deliberately turned away, covering her mouth and the receiver with her hand, "Nothing much, just the truth."

"Do you know that my mother had a heart attack and almost didn't make it at the hospital?"

Grace was stunned. This...she hadn't expected.

Hearing Grace's silence on the other end, Lewis spoke again, "No matter what, she's still your mother-in-law! Your elder! From the beginning of our marriage, I told you that I don't require you to be extremely filial, but at least you shouldn't contradict her. My mother can't get over the fact that you slept with another man before our marriage and that your mother ruined my aunt's marriage... Do you understand?"

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