Chapter 2 Dwelling on Last Night

It was just an act, right? She'd already played the part with Quentin at dinner, acting all lovey-dovey in front of Jessica. What was there to be scared of now?

"Really? Then why do you look like you want to bolt the second you see me?" Quentin asked.

"Why are you so quiet? You were quite the chatterbox this morning," Quentin added.

That morning, Lauren had struggled to get out of bed, her body aching, hoping to sneak away before Quentin woke up. But as soon as she moved, he grabbed her wrist. "What are you doing?"

Quentin's sudden voice startled Lauren, and she quickly pulled back her foot that was about to touch the floor.

Her eyes darted around awkwardly, her face full of guilt and panic. After all, she was the one who had used some tricks to drag him to a hotel room last night.

"Your performance last night didn't seem like someone so timid," Quentin raised an eyebrow, looking at Lauren with a hint of mockery.

"Mr. Robinson didn't seem like the type to play tricks last night either." Lauren flashed Quentin a sweet smile. "They say men like women who are wild in bed but innocent outside. Don't you like that?"

Quentin looked Lauren up and down, his expression changing slightly when he saw the red marks scattered across her chest.

Noticing his gaze, Lauren turned around and got out of bed. The soreness between her legs almost made her stumble. Steadying herself, she picked up her clothes from the floor and put them on piece by piece.

After tidying up, Lauren grabbed her bag and prepared to leave. "Thanks for last night, Mr. Robinson. I've already paid for the room. Feel free to rest a bit longer if you're not in a hurry."

Quentin's face darkened completely. What was this woman saying? Thanking him for his service? Did she think he was some kind of gigolo?

Quentin had seen women throw themselves at him before, even ones more forward than her. But someone who knew his identity and still treated him like a gigolo? She was the first.

"You know who I am?" Quentin got out of bed and grabbed Lauren, who was about to leave.

"Are you kidding? Who in Deerland doesn't know you?" Lauren turned to look at Quentin, the sudden closeness making her heart flutter. Quentin always had a way of stirring her emotions.

"Who are you? What's your name?" Quentin stared into Lauren's eyes, as if trying to see through her.

"Mr. Robinson, are you trying to hit on me? Still not sober from last night's drinks? We're both adults. It was just a one-night stand. You don't expect me to take responsibility, do you? You have a wife, after all." Lauren's reflection in Quentin's brown eyes almost made her fall for his seemingly affectionate gaze.

Lauren clasped her hands together, pinching herself lightly to maintain the little composure she had left, trying to appear casual and carefree.

Quentin did have a wife, the woman everyone in Deerland gossiped about, the one who was always left alone at home—Lauren herself.

In the two years since their marriage, Quentin had never taken her to any events, treating her like a mere decoration at home. He hadn't returned home even once after their wedding, and the tabloids were filled with stories of Quentin and various women.

"Or do you want to experience it again, Mr. Robinson?" Lauren brazenly eyed Quentin, her eyes lighting up at the sight of his lean chest and bronze-toned abs.

Quentin clearly hadn't expected her to say that, nor had he seen such a bold look before. He let go of her hand and took a few steps back.

At that moment, Lauren shook her wrist and swiftly turned to leave.

Thinking about the morning's events, Lauren glanced at Quentin, seeing his dark expression. She cursed inwardly. If she had known she would run into him here today, she wouldn't have been so impulsive last night. She could have delayed her plan by a few days.

She was about to say something when Quentin spoke again. "I almost forgot. You were quite vocal last night too."

Lauren's face turned beet red, like a boiled shrimp. She stared wide-eyed at Quentin in front of her. "Quentin!"

She couldn't believe Quentin dared to bring up their bedroom activities in public. They were still in the car, with a driver up front!

"What? Can't handle it now?" Quentin enjoyed watching Lauren's changing expressions.

"Mr. Robinson, you seem to be quite fixated on last night." Lauren adjusted her mood, pretending to be indifferent.

Quentin just wanted to see her look humiliated, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You're truly a shameless woman." Quentin's face darkened as he looked at Lauren.

He had thought she was a reserved woman, but it seemed she was no different from the others.

Lauren's smile became strained at his words. Being called shameless by the man she had loved for so many years, her legal husband, no less—she must be the first.

Meanwhile, at the Robinson Estate.

Jessica sat in the living room, smiling as she recalled the scenes she had witnessed.

Her grandson Quentin, who had never shown much interest in anything, had smiled at Lauren and even stared at her.

It seemed her hopes for a great-grandchild would soon be realized. Her previous worries were unnecessary.

"Don't worry, ma'am. At dinner tonight, Quentin seemed quite nice to Lauren," the butler could tell Jessica was in a good mood.

"Yes, when have you ever seen Quentin serve food to anyone?" Jessica couldn't help but nod.

At the dinner table, Quentin kept adding food to Lauren's plate, all her favorite dishes. It seemed the atmosphere between them wasn't as tense as she had thought.

While Jessica dreamed of a bright future, Quentin and Lauren hadn't spoken a word to each other on the way home.

"Mr. Robinson, why did you decide to come home today?" Lauren couldn't stand Quentin's silent and icy demeanor any longer.

"Do I need to inform you of my schedule in advance?" Quentin handed his coat to the maid.

Lauren pursed her lips and said nothing more, heading to her room. She could just pretend he didn't exist.

But as soon as she entered her room, Quentin followed her in.

"Mr. Robinson, it's late. I'm going to bed," Lauren said, holding the door handle, clearly wanting him to leave.

"I'm going to bed too." Quentin removed his tie and unbuttoned the first button of his shirt.

Lauren stared at him in surprise. What did he mean? Was he planning to sleep in the same room with her tonight?

Quentin pulled Lauren's hand, then closed the door. "Didn't you say I seemed fixated on last night? Well, my answer is yes."

With that, before Lauren could respond, he pushed her onto the bed.