Read Online Turn Up the Heat by Kimberly Kincaid - Free Book Online Page B

was okay, but it seems . . . well, that she is. So we can just . . .”
    Desperate, Shane cut her off. “No, no. It’s a good thing you came along. She hit her head, over there by the pole and I was just taking a look.”
    Bellamy’s expression morphed into a glower before she averted her gaze from him completely.
    â€œOh, God, Bellamy! Are you okay?” The girl Shane hadn’t met, a petite redhead, came rushing over to Bellamy, and the awkward circumstances seemed to be quickly forgotten by her friends.
    â€œI’m fine. It was a total idiot move, really,” she muttered, a swath of blond curls falling across her injured cheek as she tried to hide her face. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
    In the low light of the alcove, Shane could see the look of despair that crossed her pretty features, and he remembered the admission of her bad week. Bellamy opened her mouth, presumably to elaborate on what had happened, but he cut her off.
    â€œIt was totally my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I plowed right into her. Knocked her right into the damned thing. She really needs some ice.”
    Bellamy’s head jerked up in surprise, causing her to yelp in pain, and her eyes narrowed on his in confusion for a split second before he looked away.
    This was his out, and he was taking it. “So, if you girls can wait with her, I’ll go get some ice from the bar.”
    Translation: I’ll send someone back here with some, and then I’ll hightail it out of here as soon as she’s taken care of. Had his brain gone on a complete walkabout? As Bellamy’s friends fussed over her, gasping at the mark on her face, he knew she was in capable hands.
    He never should have kissed her. And judging from the way she’d glared at him and was now refusing to look in his direction, Shane wouldn’t be making that mistake again even if he wanted to.
    He’d be surprised if Bellamy Blake would touch him with a ten-foot pole.
    Â 
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    â€œRoom service!”
    Bellamy squinted at the clock on her bedside table and groaned. Now she knew what Wile E. Coyote felt like when the Road Runner managed to dump that anvil on his head.
    Oh, to be a cartoon so someone could erase it all.
    â€œJenna, it’s nine in the morning.” Bellamy nestled deeper into her pillow, unable to ignore the marching band in her head.
    â€œI know, but you slept for eight hours, so I wanted to check on you.” Jenna balanced a room service tray between both hands as she entered, silhouetted by the sunlight trying to breach the drapes in Bellamy’s bedroom.
    Bellamy made a face, which she instantly regretted. God, that hurt. “I told you two not to Google ‘head injuries. ’ This so doesn’t count.” She made a mental note to kill Shane for outing her like that to her friends. It figured he’d feel the need to draw attention to her getting hurt. It had been the perfect getaway for him, after all. The whole walking-into-a-pole part had really just been the pièce de résistance of her night.
    Unless you counted the whole kiss-and-run thing. How could she have fallen for something so stupid?
    Jenna cleared her throat gently, bringing Bellamy back down to earth. “Are you sure it doesn’t count? Maybe you should bite the bullet and take a look at your shiner,” she offered, placing the tray on the dresser.
    â€œYou’ve been taking drama lessons from Holly. I don’t have a black eye.” The smell of fresh coffee perked Bellamy’s senses to life, and she left the rumpled confines of her bed to inspect the tray.
    Jenna snickered. “If you say so. You looked like an extra from Fight Club before you even went to bed.”
    Bellamy sighed. “Okay. Fine.” She glanced at the mirror over the dresser, wincing as Jenna swung the drapes open. Since when was the sun so malicious? “See, I