Valerie grumbled under her breath, "You think so too? I'm still pissed off at the thought. Hope the old lady made it home safely." Matthew had already cleaned her wounds and carefully wrapped them with gauze. He handled it far better than she could have managed herself. His bandaging was neat and precise, typical of his nature.

Katherine had also bought Valerie internal anti-inflammatory medication, in addition to the topical treatments. Because Valerie was pregnant, she couldn't take just any medicine. Katherine packed the medications and then turned to Matthew. "Mr. Grant, thank you for treating my wounds."

He replied, "Be careful for the next two days, and don't let your wound get wet."

"Okay."

Matthew continued, "You'll need to change the dressing tomorrow and the day after. I should be home by eight o'clock. I'll help you then."

"Okay."

Matthew stood and went to the kitchen. He hadn't had a sip of water since he started treating Valerie's wounds.

Valerie also stood and walked toward her room. Looking back at Matthew's retreating form, she impulsively called out, "Mr. Grant…"

"Yes?"

"I think you're cute and not intimidating at all. So don't worry about what other people think." She closed her door contentedly, hoping he'd found her words comforting.

She mused, "Though Matthew is a bit cold, he worked hard to buy the apartment we live in. Even if he doesn't have feelings for me, he's taking responsibility. He doesn't restrict me and gives me money. When he found out I was hurt, he helped and cared for me. I don't know why people are scared of him—even Katherine said he was intimidating—but I really think he's a very nice person, despite his cold exterior!"

Unaware of her thoughts, Matthew in the living room clenched his jaw, nearly crushing the paper cup in his hand.

'Cute? Does she even realize what she said?' He'd never imagined anyone would use that word to describe him.

His cell phone rang; it was Charles with a work report. "Mr. Grant, the meeting summary has been emailed. Please check it when you're free."

"Okay."

Charles was about to hang up, but sensing Matthew had something else to say, he probed, "Mr. Grant, anything else? Does Mrs. Grant suspect anything's wrong?"

"No." Matthew glanced toward Valerie's room, hesitating before asking, "If a woman calls a man 'cute,' what do you think it means?"

Silence, then a burst of laughter. "No way! What's wrong with Mrs. Grant? How could she think you were cute? That's hilarious! Did she lie to avoid upsetting you?"

Matthew was speechless. "I didn't say it was me Forget it. From tomorrow, you're not allowed near Slotmond Estate. Arrange someone else. Don't let Valerie see you again, or you'll face the consequences."

He hung up, exasperated with Charles' mockery. The squeaking of his hamster echoed Charles' laughter.

He walked over and saw the hamster sprawled in its cage, staring at him. Annoyed, he poked the hamster's belly.

Splat!

The hamster fell into its shavings and struggled. Matthew smirked and returned to his room, thinking, 'Valerie's smooth, but she shouldn't mock me openly. She's probably too naive to realize "cute" isn't used for men. I'll forgive her this time.'

The next morning, Valerie returned from buying breakfast to find two delivery workers leaving her apartment. The treadmill Matthew had bought for her had arrived.

He turned it on, and Valerie tested it. It was steady and quiet. The track was wide and solid, better than those she'd used at the gym. "This treadmill is great. You're quite the shopper."

This was untrue. Matthew hadn't bought it; he'd delegated the task to Charles. He maintained a calm expression and lied, "I read a lot of reviews and chose it carefully."