“Let me go,” she hissed.
“Not until you hear what I have to say.” Craig held her in place along the wall. Lacie tried to wrench free of his grasp without drawing too much attention to herself; there were already a few uncomfortable glances being thrown their way. The last thing she needed was for someone to call campus security, or for Shane to show up before she had a chance to handle this –
“I suggest you let her go now.” Shane’s voice was cold, lethal. They both turned to see him behind them, his eyes like blue ice.
“Or what?” Craig sneered.
In answer, Shane’s lips curled upward in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, promising both pain and humiliation. Craig saw it too, his own presence intensifying at the silent challenge, unconsciously squeezing Lacie’s arm until she yelped. Lacie saw Shane’s entire body tense, saw the ice in his eyes morph into flames, and knew she had to do something to diffuse the situation before someone really got hurt.
She lifted her foot and stomped on Craig’s. Hard.
“Ow! What the fuck was that for?” he grouched, but the move had done the trick. Craig released her.
“For being an idiot,” she said. As much as she appreciated Shane’s willingness to stand up for her, he had to know that she was capable of fighting her own battles. And so did Craig.
Lacie stood tall and faced her self-appointed guardian. “You and I are going to talk about this, Craig, but not here and not now.”
The two men glared at each other. Craig’s expression was one of unmitigated loathing. Shane’s promised retribution for daring to touch Lacie. So much for her standing up for herself; she didn’t think either one of them even noticed.
She touched her hand lightly to Shane’s arm. “I think I’d like that coffee now, if you’re still up for it.”
Without taking his eyes from the other man, Shane put his arm at Lacie’s back and gently nudged her toward the exit. “You and I are going to have a little talk, too, Davidson,” he promised quietly.
“I look forward to it,” Craig growled. Lacie felt the heat of his glare all the way to the exit.
They walked in silence along the quiet, secluded pathway until they were out of sight of the building. Shane guided her to a bench beneath a standing carriage light to examine her more closely. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” she exhaled, relieved that the confrontation was over, at least for now. It was only a temporary respite, she knew. She was dreading having “the talk” with Craig, but it had to be done sooner than later. For now, however, she just wanted to forget about him and concentrate on the beautiful man looking at her with genuine concern. Even with his brow creased in worry and that serious expression on his face, he took her breath away.
“The tears in your eyes say differently,” he chastised gently. “Is it your hand?”
She nodded, sniffling a little, hating that once again she was appearing the helpless female. “Yeah, but it’s okay. My head hurts more right now.”
Shane pushed away a few tendrils of hair, spotting the emerging bump on her forehead. In a tender gesture, he pressed his lips to it. “We can get some ice for that when we get your hand x-rayed again.”
“Not again,” she murmured.
“Yes, again,” he said, his voice kind but firm. His hand massaged her upper arm where Craig had such a bruising grip on her. She was glad she was wearing three-quarter length sleeves, knowing that her flesh was probably already starting to darken. As it was, she could sense Shane’s rage simmering just below the surface, despite how gentle he was being with her.
“Does anything else hurt?” he asked.
Lacie’s face flamed at his question. With her injured hand all but useless in stopping her fall, she’d landed hard on her rear end. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Shane that, though.
As if reading her mind, his eyes glistened and the corners of his mouth quirked. “I’d prefer to take care of that particular injury privately,” he said in a husky whisper, and Lacie forgot all about the pain in her hand, her arm, and her head as a new ache began to overwhelm her, one that had nothing to do with her latest fall from grace.
“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand to her. “Let’s get that hand checked out. I’ll drive.”
Shane guided Lacie into the passenger seat. When he leaned over her to fasten her seat belt for her, it placed the base of his neck right by her lips. Unable to help herself, she leaned forward and kissed him there, connecting with the hollow of his throat where his shoulders met his neck.