10
Quentin clipped the door to his office closed, behind Charlotte, giving them the first moment of privacy since he’d left her alone the night before. Casually, he closed the blinds of his office with a swift flick of his wrist, eliminating all prying eyes.
“Why did you do that?” Charlotte asked, her voice now a whisper.
Quentin crossed his firm forearms over his chest and stood, feet wide apart. He still towered over her. “Why do you think I did it?”
“I don’t want anyone to talk about us,” Charlotte murmured. “And you’re the one who said it would never happen again.”
“That’s right. And I meant what I said,” Quentin said. His dark, brooding eyes seemed to pound into her skull. She blinked several times, unable to handle their intensity. “Why don’t you sit down?”
In the silence that
