"So, you just want to repay my help?" Dylan smiled frostily and tightened his arms, pressing her against his chest.
"Certainly. I helped you to get your design drawing back, lest you say I'm ungrateful. I don't owe you anymore. Let me go!" Holding her breath, Savannah turned her face away as she pushed him, fearing being seen by Judy and the hourly workers.
Although she had lived in Beverly Hills for so long, she was not used to being seen by others when Dylan was too close to her. She felt really embarrassed as if she was caught adultery in the act.
Perhaps it was because she had no formal identity.
She was not his wife or his fiancée. She was not even his girlfriend.
What would people think of her when he saw her sitting on his lap in such an intimate way in the early morning?
Dylan was the master and house owner, thick-skinned, but she still needs her face.
