Chapter 14
Grace crashed heavily into a solid chest, her head smacking against Damian's chin, causing her to cry out in pain.
The impact was so strong that Damian was knocked backward, his back hitting the seat with a muffled grunt.
Instinctively, his arms tightened around her, locking her firmly in his embrace.
Grace's cheek was pressed against his chest, and she could clearly hear his rapid heartbeat, pounding like a drum.
The scent of pine mixed with a faint hint of tobacco enveloped her completely. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, his muscles tensing slightly under the thin shirt, radiating heat.
The sharp pain in the back of her head made Grace's mind buzz.
Suddenly, a loud, arrogant voice came from outside the window, "Hey! Do you even know how to drive? Are you blind?"
That voice... it was Ethan!
Grace was startled! Instinctively, she ducked down to hide!
But she ended up right between Damian's legs, clutching his shirt tightly and burying her face in his lap, holding her breath.
Her movement was so quick that Damian hadn't even reacted before he felt her slide down, her warm breath directly hitting between his legs, sending a shiver through him like a feather brushing his skin.
Damian's body instantly tensed, and it felt like all the blood in his body rushed to his head. He looked down, his gaze heavy on the person lying in his lap.
Her long hair covered most of her face, only revealing her flushed ears and tightly pressed lips. She made a "shh" gesture, her eyes full of pleading.
So she was afraid of being seen by the people outside.
An inexplicable wave of irritation surged in Damian's heart, a mix of feeling offended and an indescribable flutter.
Just as he was about to tell her to get up, the car window was knocked on with a loud "bang bang."
"How the hell do you drive? Get out here!" Ethan's voice came through the glass, full of arrogance.
The driver nervously looked back at Damian, his eyes questioning.
Damian's face was so dark it could drip water. He coldly spat out three words, "Open the window."
The driver quickly pressed the button, and the window slowly rolled down.
Ethan was about to continue his tirade when his eyes swept over the back seat and saw Damian's icy face. His voice abruptly stopped, and his arrogance turned into fear.
"Da... Damian?" he stammered, his bravado vanishing instantly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was your car. I... I didn't mean it."
Damian didn't say a word, just gave him a cold, dismissive look, his gaze as icy as a glacier, carrying an invisible pressure.
Ethan's forehead broke out in a cold sweat, and he quickly nodded and bowed, "We'll be going now. Have a good day."
He turned to leave, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a girl in the back seat, lying in Damian's lap in a suggestive position.
Ethan's eyes widened, but he didn't dare look any longer. He practically fled back to his car.
Grace, still lying in Damian's lap, could hear the muffled conversation outside.
"Hey, Ethan, why are you running so fast?" a voice full of anger came from the nearby car. "They almost hit us, and we're just letting it go?"
"Shut up! That was Damian's car!"
"Damian? Holy shit... yeah, we better let it go... let's get out of here!"
Ethan's voice, barely audible, drifted into the car, "I saw a girl in his car, lying in his lap, doing... you know..." He didn't finish, just made a suggestive noise with his mouth.
"Oh my God! Really?"
"Is he into that kind of stuff?"
The excited gossip mixed with the roar of the sports car's engine quickly faded around the corner.
Inside the Bentley.
The car was silent, neither of them speaking. Ethan and his friends' words seemed to linger in the air between them.
An awkward silence filled the car.
Grace was still lying between Damian's legs, too afraid to move.
Until something hard slowly rose... pressing against her flushed cheek.
In the next moment, Grace sprang up like a startled rabbit! Her face was burning red, her wide, watery eyes glaring at him, "You, you, you..."
Compared to Grace's panic, Damian was as calm as ever.
He leisurely adjusted his pants and said calmly, "I'm a normal man."
"I..." Grace stammered, "You..."
Damian pressed his forehead, "Shut up."
Grace glared at him, her cheeks turning even redder, her ears burning. She wished she could find a hole to crawl into.
She turned her head, nervously picking at the hem of her shirt, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of her chest.
Damian's expression wasn't much better. He straightened his wrinkled shirt, his gaze heavy as he looked out the window.
His fingertips still tingled with the sensation of her waist, soft and slender, and the warmth of her breath between his legs made him feel uncomfortable all over.
The car fell into an eerie silence, only the sound of the air conditioning quietly flowing.
The ambiguous atmosphere grew like vines, wrapping around them, making the air thick and heavy.
The car continued to drive smoothly until it finally arrived.
As soon as the black Bentley stopped outside the villa's ornate iron gates, Grace couldn't wait to push open the door and practically jumped out of the car.
She hurried along the stone path towards the villa, her ears still burning from the heat of the car.
"Miss Donovan, you're here." Mary, wearing a cream-colored apron, stood on the porch and greeted her warmly.
Grace had no time to respond, rushing into the living room.
Once inside, she realized she wasn't familiar with the villa.
She turned back, "Mary, where's the kitchen?"
"Over there." Mary had already come inside, pointing towards the kitchen, "I've prepared everything for you. Please follow me."
Mary led Grace into the kitchen.
"This is the sea bass, this is the pine nut corn, already shelled for you, these are the pine nuts for the corn, and this is the fermented dough, very soft for making desserts," Mary introduced each item, "These are some of Mr. Wolfe's favorite dishes."
After finishing, Mary paused and asked softly, "Miss Donovan, if you need any help, I can assist you."
She was worried Grace might not know how to cook, but Grace had grown up with an alcoholic and abusive father, doing all the housework herself.
Cooking was a piece of cake for her.
"I can handle it myself," Grace said.
With that, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.