Fucking shit. Paddy hadn't been expecting that. He could feel her beginning to surrender under his touch, the way she whispered his name going straight to his groin, and he was beginning to thoroughly enjoy it, when he was reminded exactly who she was and what kind of a vicious bitch she could be. He was sure he could taste blood in his mouth, holding his cheek for a moment. That had fucking hurt.
He glared up at her, trying to regulate his breathing and not let her see him in pain. The sting began to dissipate, and he found himself distracted by her, her breathing heavy, lips swollen, pointing that knife at him in a way that seemed rather reminiscent of a threatened animal. Which, in a way, she had been, but she seemed more on the defensive than the offensive, which was certainly interesting. "Delia," He murmured, taking another step closer, slowly so she didn't lash out. "My clothes. We both know you're not going to use that, so easy now. I just want my clothes. Don't make me have to call in reinforcements." He reached behind him and took out his own knife, holding it up. "And don't think you're the only one here who's armed."