Hurt.
He’d hurt her feelings.
Thane experienced another sharp pang of regret. “Regan, I’m sorry. I’m being a bastard. It’s not an excuse, but I’ve had a hell of a twenty-four hours. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you by being a condescending prick.”
To his relief, she relaxed under his hold. Her eyes wandered over his face and sharpened. “What happened?”
“Just a long day.” He released her, and her attention dropped to his hand.
“Thane.” She reached for him, gently cradling his right hand in hers. His knuckles were swollen. The look she gave him demanded answers as she repeated, “What happened?”
* * *
“I told you, I’m fine,” he said, but secretly he enjoyed Regan fussing over him.
After he’d explained about hitting Paul, miraculously avoiding criminal charges but not avoiding the conversation with his boss about why he’d hit Paul, Regan had pushed him down onto the sofa and told him to wait.
Thankfully for Thane, Allan, his boss, liked him and did not like Paul. Both he and Paul received warnings for their behavior and that if anything like it happened again, they’d both face termination.
Knowing it could have gone so much worse, relief filled Thane.
Regan handed him a beer. “Take with your left hand, please.”
He grinned and sipped his beer, feeling better already. “Thanks.”
She flicked him a dark look as she sat down close beside him. “Right hand.”
Thane’s lips trembled from holding back another grin as he did as she demanded. Out of nowhere, she produced a small bag of frozen peas and crushed them over his knuckles.
“Fuck,” he bit out at the shock of the cold.
“We need to get the swelling down.” She held it over his hand.
“I can do it,” he said, though he wanted her to.
“You can’t drink a beer and hold ice over your hand.”
“Considering how angry you are, I’m surprised you don’t just leave me to it.”
She shrugged, relaxing into the sofa. Drawing her knees up, they touched his outer thigh. “I feel bad you had a nightmare day.”
“It’s better already.” He took another swig of beer, watching her over the top of it.
Regan smiled softly, her dimples just teasing an appearance. She was so beautiful, it knocked the wind out of him sometimes.
“I can’t believe you punched a guy in the face.”
Scowling, Thane looked away. “He deserved it.”
“What exactly did he say about me?”
“Nothing worth repeating.”
They sat in silence for a moment. “Well … thank you for defending my honor.”
At the teasing note in her voice, Thane replied, “I was defending both of us.”
She frowned but as just as quickly, her confusion cleared. Her lips parted on a little “oh.” “He insinuated you and I …”
Thane grunted his yes.
“He’s not the first one. Even Lachlan knows there’s gossip around the village about us.”
Anger and something a lot like guilt had him barking as he slammed his beer down on the nearby coffee table. “Who else is gossiping? I thought it was just those bloody women at the school?”
Regan tutted and moved a little closer, drawing him back against the couch. “No need to get worked up about it. They’re just spreading their jealous bile from the school gates to the entire village. Everyone thinks you’re sneaking into my annex at night.”
The imagery her words conjured caused an instant reaction in his body, and he flew from the sofa before he did something they’d both regret.
“Your hand.” Regan jumped from the couch just as he moved to walk away, and they collided.
Thane instinctively reached out to steady her as she dropped the frozen peas to grab onto his arms. They tensed against each other, her body tight to his. He could feel the sharp rise and fall of her breasts, hear her quickened breathing, smell her skin.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered hoarsely as their fiery gazes connected.
And there it was, clear as day for him to see in those glittering, chestnut eyes.
Regan wanted him.
For a moment, a lust more powerful than he’d ever experienced clouded his mind. His hands seemed to move down her waist with a mind of their own, tracing the gentle curve of her hips to her tight arse. He gripped her in his hands and pulled her deeper against him, and she gasped at the feel of him hard and throbbing, pushing at her soft belly.
Bending his head toward her, desperate to taste her—finally—Thane was a mere whisper from her mouth when she broke the silence.
“Thane,” she moaned his name with so much need, a savage possessiveness flooded him.
“Thane, you in?” Lachlan’s voice cut through the house from the front entrance.
It was like being hammered by five thousand bags of frozen peas.
“Fuck,” he cursed, unable to believe what he’d just been about to do.
Regan stared up at him in confusion and then something like disappointment.
Oh, hell.
Before he could say another word, she slipped away, hurrying down the corridor behind the stairs, toward the side exit.