Page 31 of Turn Up The Heat

“I should get you back to the resort.”

Bellamy had snatched her gloves off the blanket and whipped them over her hands before he could fully register her movements, springing up from the blanket in one nimble motion to find her feet beneath her.

“That would be great,” she said, her tone hollow, and she started walking without pretense toward the truck. The fine line between sweet and sexy that she’d been straddling all night was gone, with nothing there but the memory of it to make Shane feel like a complete jackass.

It was better this way, he reasoned. For both of them. He wasn’t interested in opening up to anybody, least of all a top-shelf city girl, no matter how good the sex might be. And, like it or not, something about the heat in their kisses told him that sex with Bellamy would’ve been even better than he’d bargained for.

And he’d learned the hard way that being a betting man was a bad idea all around.

* * *

Ruined pride still ran deep,and Bellamy got all the way through the terrible, silent ride back to the resort before hers crumbled. She mumbled a goodnight to Shane the second his truck rolled to a stop in front of the now-quiet resort, and he refused to answer her or even meet her eyes, the coward. At least Derek had been able to deliver the stupid “it’s not you” line with a little bit of feeling.

Shane had delivered it like a lie.

Bellamy made fast work of the trip to her room, flashing her key card over the door to the suite and tiptoeing into the darkened main room. Jenna and Holly were passed out cold on the couch, with the remnants of the guacamole she’d made in a big bowl next to a near-empty bag of tortilla chips and an old romcom on the TV, volume down low. Normally, this would crack a smile over Bellamy’s face, even after a crappy date, but tonight, she just couldn’t muster it.

She bit down on the tears that threatened to fall, refusing to give them the time of day—or night, as it were—as she went into her bathroom and started running hot water into the luxurious, claw-footed tub. Peeling off her clothes, she pinned her hair into a loose knot on top of her head and sank into the blanket of bubbles that rose up to meet her.

Yes, it had been impulsive to head off to Carrington Ridge with Shane in the first place, and no, she didn’t know if she’d have actually had sex with him right under the stars after knowing him for all of two days. But still. Getting the “it’s not you” speech before she even got to make that decision had caught her completely off guard. And it stung. Hard.

Bellamy sank into the water up to her chin and cried.

11

“If you don’t spill the details about last night, I’m going to explode!”

Holly held out a steaming mug of coffee, which Bellamy took with a grateful grunt as she padded from the common area to the kitchenette, wearing her bathrobe and a face full of determination to forget all about her night with Shane.

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Fine, yes. Good morning. I need details.” Holly followed, hot on her heels, as Bellamy rooted through the fridge to unearth a tiny carton of half and half.

“Sorry to disappoint, but there aren’t any.” She shrugged, much to Holly’s exasperation. No way was Bellamy going to admit being within nanoseconds of reaching the summit of Mount Oh-My-God while getting her fully-clothed grind on. Especially since the guy in question had put the brakes on the whole shebang by uttering the three worst words in the English language.

Nope. Bellamy was in no mood to re-live the craptastic events of her night. How many times could a girl hear “it’s not you” before the she got the message loud and clear that it was, in fact, very much her?

Jenna trudged in from her room, bleary-eyed, just in time to watch Bellamy’s dodge-and-deflect. “Oh, hey B.” Jenna yawned and stretched. “Could you please tell her about your wilderness hike with Mr. Fix-It before she erupts? Spontaneous human combustion is so messy.”

Was it too late to go back to bed? “I hate him. How about that?” Bellamy asked sweetly, downing half her cup of coffee in one swallow. “Ugh, this stuff isawful,” she grimaced at the horrible mix of bitter and burnt invading her tastebuds. Damn. Room service couldn’t even get coffee right.

“Wait, you can’t hate him. How can you hate him? I thought he was a good kisser,” Holly pouted.

“I can, and I do.”And yes. He’s a fan-freaking-tastic kisser. Not that I’ll be making that mistake again.“Is that my phone?” Bellamy furrowed her brow, searching for the source of the all-too-familiar annoying beep.

“It sounds like it.” Jenna scooped the iPhone up from where Bellamy had tossed it on the counter the night before and flipped it to her.

Holly planted her hands on her hips and stood in the doorway of the kitchenette like a bulldog in fuzzy slippers. “You’re seriously going to shut me down on the dirt?”

Bellamy pressed her lips into a tight line. “There’s no dirt. I’m dirtless, dirt-free, utterly devoid of dirt of any kind. Clean as a whistle.” She tried to keep her face neutral as she flicked her phone to life.

Wait. How could there possibly be eleven unread texts and four voicemails on her phone leftover from a Saturday while she was on vacation? Nobody liked herthatmuch.

“Hey, was there some kind of weird crisis last night that I don’t know about? I have a ton of…” Realization hit Bellamy when she saw the caller history screen, making her heart take a swan dive toward her freshly pedicured toes. How was every single oneof these messages from her boss? She dropped her head into her hands and wondered if nine o’clock was too early to drink.

“What?” Jenna asked with a furrowed brow.

“Bosszilla is on the warpath.”

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