Karen leaned lightly against the edge of Drogo's desk, her fingers drumming almost lazily against the polished wood.
Drogo's fingers stilled on the page. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, his voice threaded with suspicion.
Karen simply smiled as she let her eyes wander past him, across the office, before settling again on the neat rows of documents.
"I didn't stutter, Dr. Vetter," she said smoothly, her voice soft but firm, "when I said we are going to the conference together. Aren't we?"
Drogo's blue eyes snapped up to meet hers. He straightened slightly, an edge creeping into his posture. "No."
Karen's lips curved faintly. "Why?"
He blinked, unsure whether to argue or glare.
"That wasn't a question," she added, almost indulgently, letting the words hang like a challenge. "I'm telling you, Dr Vetter."
