She flinched and steeled herself against that movement. It could be construed as a threat. Or not. Outrageous as ever. His words formed tiny splinters that dove under her skin, nestling there to irritate and swell her temper. Temper never worked with the man. No, he was far too infuriating for that.
"Ye've a mighty high opinion o' yerself, an' not one I'm like t'be followin'. Not like th'way ye've followed me, innit? I ain't shown ye no good time, mate, an' I ain't about t'start." She took a step closer to him, crowding him, only too aware that he could easily take her out. Near him, across the room; she'd his measure and she knew him to be the more skilled. Still, she'd her reputation as a brassy bitch to consider.
"Ye ain't never shown me no good time, so if yer thinkin' t'play in me bed, yer more daft'n a sun-crazed sailor." She stared down at him, expression settling into disinterest. There was tension in her, in the way she held herself. "What d'ye want?"
"Ye've a mighty high opinion o' yerself, an' not one I'm like t'be followin'. Not like th'way ye've followed me, innit? I ain't shown ye no good time, mate, an' I ain't about t'start." She took a step closer to him, crowding him, only too aware that he could easily take her out. Near him, across the room; she'd his measure and she knew him to be the more skilled. Still, she'd her reputation as a brassy bitch to consider.
"Ye ain't never shown me no good time, so if yer thinkin' t'play in me bed, yer more daft'n a sun-crazed sailor." She stared down at him, expression settling into disinterest. There was tension in her, in the way she held herself. "What d'ye want?"
