“So, they don’t want the pretty one to deliver it anymore?” she couldn’t help herself. She was having fun with this arrogant man.
“Tanya.” Dirk warned her softly, but she ignored him.
“You are out of line, poplap.” Patrick remarked, his eyes fixed on the road as they sped along.
“Really? Here I thought you needed my help.”
“Don’t.” Dirk warned her again, this time with more emphasis.
“Don’t what, Dirk? Are you his damn lap dog? Do you always do as boss-man says?”
She knew it was a low blow, especially towards the one man she knew cared and protected her. She didn’t understand herself at the moment; the way she acted was out of character. She never drew attention to herself and here she was painting a red dot on her forehead.
A guilty conscious is a bitch at times.
Patrick smirked most of the way, but said nothing.