Page 17 of Turn Up The Heat

Just as well, she grumbled to herself. Now maybe she could get back to normal.

Finally, Bellamy located the bathroom at the very back of the bar. Navigating the narrow hallway with its handful of identical doors took a little doing, but she managed to locate the correct one easily enough. After going to the bathroom, she ran a hand through her hair in the dingy mirror. She decided to forego reapplying her lipstick, lest it encourage Marcus. What she really wanted more than anything was her nice, warm king-sized bed back at the resort, where she could snuggle up and sleep as long as she liked. No boring job, no boss. No texts or messages of any kind.

She made her way back into the narrow hallway to go find Jenna and Holly. Forgetting her troubles had been nice, but it was time to call it quits before fate found her and messed with her evening like it had messed with her day.

As if destiny had heard her thoughts like a homing beacon, the only thing standing between Bellamy and the sweet dreams she craved was Shane Griffin.

Literally.

6

The minute Bellamy’s eyes locked in on his as she sauntered from the back hallway where he’d been heading, Shane’s first impulse was to look away.

So it was really fucking weird when he found he couldn’t.

Instead, he stopped to lean against the wall in the alcove leading back to the bar, sinking his thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans. Bellamy paused by way of a tiny stutter step, then straightened her shoulders and promptly ignored him even though they were the only two people in the alcove.

Typical. Man, girls who did shots of wildly expensive tequila were so not in his best interest, no matter how sweet the curve of their hips looked.

Goddamn designer jeans.

Of course, he knew about the tequila because he’d been watching her carefully, even though it was a bad idea. Chalk it up to the fact he was pretty bored, and that, contrary to his hopes, none of Samantha Kane’s friends had been the least bit interesting. He’d managed some passable conversation, but in the end, none of it had been worth the effort he’d had to throw into it.

And the pinnacle of his so-so evening was going to be the cold shoulder routine from a girl he didn’t even like? Thanks, but no thanks. Bellamy’s emerald green eyes were focused squarely on the path back to the bar, and she looked as if she was going to breeze right past him even though he knew she’d seen him. Shane scoffed and pushed off of the wall with disgust, ready to beat her to the punch and let her watch his back for a change.

But before he could turn all the way around, she stumbled off course and walked smack into the support pole in the dimly lit alcove.

Shane swung back toward her, his legs giving up an impressive response time to cover the space between them. “Whoa! Bellamy, are you okay?”

Both of her hands flew up to her right cheek, and without thinking, he covered them with his own. “I’m fine. It’s fine,” she insisted, but her wavering voice betrayed her.

“It’s not fine. Christ, let me look at you.” Shane guided her beneath the one decent overhead light in the back of the alcove, and she didn’t fight him. “Here, lean against the wall.”

“Don’t be stupid, I told you I’m—oh, ow!” She winced and yanked her head away from his gentle touch, smacking it into the wall behind her.

Shane raked a hand through his hair and sighed. “Could you knock that off please, before you give yourself a concussion?” Maybe if he made light of it, Bellamy would ease up and at least let him take a look. God, she was tough.

“Oh, that’s nice. Go ahead. Make fun.” She scowled, but her voice wavered again.

“I’m not trying to make fun of you. I’m trying to look at your face.”

Shane took two fingers and very gently lifted her stubborn-as-hell chin so he could get a better look at the angry welt on her cheekbone. “You need to get some ice on this,” he murmured, frowning. He’d had a few shiners in his day, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the mark on her face bloomed into a nasty bruise before morning.

Bellamy closed her eyes and slumped against the wall. “I don’t want any ice,” she whispered, chin trembling beneath his fingers.

Something inside his gut went completely soft, and his lips parted in surprise. “You’re going to have a bruise, Bellamy. Plus, you hit your head kind of hard. Maybe you should go to the emergency room or something.” He turned to see if one of the bouncers was milling around near the back hallway.

“Shane.” The tone of her voice made him turn back around, mid-movement. “Please don’t get anyone, okay? I promise I’m fine. I just…” She broke off, her green eyes flashing with tears that she seemed to be fighting with every ounce of her willpower. “I’ve had a really, really bad week. The whole walking into a pole thing? Let’s just say a trip to the ER would be the miserable icing on the cake of my issues right now, okay?”

He opened his mouth to argue with her, but the sliver of nice-guy that lurked in his subconscious recognized her embarrassment and wouldn’t let him. “All right. Let me at least get a good look at it, though.” She didn’t resist,finally, so he leaned in for a closer inspection. “You don’t feel dizzy? Nauseous, anything like that?”

She let him turn her head under the light for a better look. “Of course I feel dizzy and nauseous. I just did a shot of tequila.”

Welcome back to square one. Even hurt, she was a pain in the ass.

Shane stiffened at the mark on her face as he ran his fingers along her jaw. He was no expert, but the bruise that was forming looked small and fairly straightforward. “I think you’re fine. Let’s see your eyes.” Not like he’d really be able to see her pupils in this light, but at least he knew that if they were round, it meant she was okay. Her attitude sure was intact.

“I told you, I’m really fine.” Bellamy turned her head back toward his, making a show of opening her eyes as wide as they would go.

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