The Scorned Heiress: No More Mercy novel Chapter 799

"You absolute psycho! What did you do to my hair?!"

Bianca is practically hyperventilating with rage. Her chic short haircut requires meticulous styling to maintain its perfect volume and texture. With one aggressive ruffle, Coen has completely destroyed it. She looks like she just rolled out of a dumpster.

She is ready to murder him.

Sitting comfortably a few feet away, Danny watches the chaotic display with the amused expression of a man who already has his life figured out. He clicks his tongue in mock sympathy.

Leaning close to Tara, his voice drops to a husky whisper. "I have no idea if your best friend's guy is capable, but I guarantee you I am very, very capable."

Tara blinks, her brain short-circuiting for a second before his meaning hits her. A furious blush takes over her face, and she brutally kicks him under the table.

"Keep talking, and I'll sew your mouth shut."

Give this man an inch, and he immediately starts strutting around like a peacock.

Danny doesn't even flinch at the dull ache radiating from his shin. Looking at her flushed, flustered face, his chest swells with undeniable satisfaction. She looks so beautiful when she's flustered.

A few minutes later, Tara begins sneezing repeatedly. The freezing ordeal in the bathroom is clearly catching up to her.

Danny immediately Abandons any idea of waiting for the rest of the staff. Leaving the retreat logistics to Bianca and Coen, he ushers Tara straight out to the car.

As soon as the automatic doors slide open, a sharp blast of cold air hits them. Tara shrinks into herself, violently suppressing another sneeze.

Danny's frown deepens. He strips off his suit jacket, wraps it securely around her shoulders, and pulls her tightly against his side as they walk to the parking lot.

Tara pulls the fabric closer. It smells vividly of cedarwood and his lingering body heat.

He stands guard over the stove, stirring continuously, anxious to get back to the bedroom.

When he finally carries the steaming mug back into the room, Tara is fast asleep.

He sets the mug on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, he gently smooths the slight crease between her brows, his thumb lightly grazing her pale cheek.

He waits until the tea cools to a drinkable temperature before gently shaking her shoulder. "Tara. Wake up for a second. Drink this before you sleep."

Tara whines softly, burying her face deeper into the pillows.

Danny's heart melts. He had no idea she could be this incredibly clingy and childlike when she was under the weather. It is intoxicating.

He adores this soft, vulnerable side of her, but he hates the fact that she has to be sick for him to see it. If he had to choose, he would rather deal with her sharp-tongued, fiercely independent self every day as long as she was healthy.