Breathe for Me (6 page)

So where was the fiancé if she was that frustrated? He knew need when he saw it, and she was all but crippled with need. And part of Xander liked to offer help when and where it was needed. He smirked bitterly. Oh he was such the lifesaver? Rescue guy. Physical rescue only. She needed physical.

He stalked into the building.
Stay away Xander, stay far, far away.

He glanced at the desk. Terry sat staring at his monitor. The guy didn’t even look up as Xander strode by. So Xander stopped, pivoted and strode back.

“What’s keeping you so glued you don’t even notice when someone walks past your nose?” He walked around the desk so he could see the screen the jerk was fixated on. “Something going on?”

In one black and white square, a lone figure stood by the inky part that was the pool. He tensed. She was there again? In her swimsuit, her pearly legs looking long and too slender. Her fingers tapped some rhythm on the outside of her thigh. He could almost see her talking to herself. Talking herself into it?

She was concentrating hard on the water. He frowned as he watched her take a small step closer to the edge. But she was in no hurry. In fact, he’d say she was reluctant. Terrified?

Fury surged through him. What the hell was she doing up there alone at this hour? He’d worked as a lifeguard at beaches and pools, as summer holiday jobs for years. He’d seen fear and he saw it now. She shouldn’t be trying to teach herself to swim. She might panic and end up in trouble. There was a security camera at the pool but the deep end was deep and she wasn’t all that tall. Not barefoot.

“Always happens like this. She never actually swims.” Terry said, not looking up from the screen.

“Not ever?”

Terry shook his head. “That’s why I didn’t mind letting it slide. She’s only there five, ten minutes tops and then she goes. Never actually gets wet.”

“Not even a toe? Does she put her hand in?”

“Nothing.”

This wasn’t good. He glanced at Terry. The guard was looking a little too keen at the screen for Xander’s liking.

“And she’s always alone?” He ground out the question.

Terry nodded.

Somehow Terry having a secret with the sassy sweetheart bothered him. Did Terry know she was engaged? Did she flirt with all the guys? Was she that much of a tease?

Xander’s blood rebelled at the idea. What was with his instinct? Was it that off?

“It’s against the rules,” he snapped. “You shouldn’t let her. You don’t stop her I’ll report you.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Terry finally tore his gaze away and spun on his chair to look at Xander.

“She clearly has a problem. You want a drowned woman on your watch?”

Terry shifted on his seat. His gaze sliding away from Xander’s. “I was watching over her.”

Xander’s muscles tightened even more. “And how are you going to pull her out quick enough when you’re all the way down here?”

“I know, but…” Terry frowned.

“But what?” Xander growled.

“She’s going to be disappointed.”

And Terry didn’t want to disappoint her? Xander felt even more irritated. “She’ll get over it.”

But Xander felt bad too. Little Miss Blue Eyes was the kind who had all the guys gunning to do things for her.
To
her.

He glared at Terry. “Go fix it. Tell her she should swim half an hour before closing. Hardly anyone’s there then either. I’ll mind the desk for you.”

Terry stared back at him. “You want me to tell her
now
?”

“Go.”

Terry did.

Xander stayed in position, eyes fixed to the screen. She was still by the water, rubbing her hands on her upper arms like she was cold. Other than that she was immobile. Frozen.

He saw her spin as Terry came in. She hurriedly reached for her towel. A stupid amount of pleasure surged into his veins when he saw she didn’t look at Terry anything like the way she’d looked at him. But satisfaction turned to discomfort when he saw the impact of Terry’s words on her. Her narrow shoulders slumped, she clutched the towel closer. Even in the grainy images from the security cam he could see the distress cross her face—and the way she then proudly tried to hide it.

Xander walked away from the screen. It wasn’t his business. She had someone in her life who ought to be supporting her. It wasn’t his problem if her fiancé was falling short.

But it did piss him off.

Chapter Five

After being busted by the night manager Chelsea wasn’t stupid enough to try the pool on the weekend. With summer starting to sizzle, people were taking advantage of it and she didn’t want anyone around when she tried. So she spent Saturday and Sunday focused on her project, determinedly forgetting about how it had felt when ‘superman’ had held her tight. Except forgetting wasn’t quite as easy as she’d hoped. She found a spot in Central Park near a temporary art installation, armed with her camera to record people’s reactions to the piece. Every so often she zoomed in on faces. Plenty of good-looking guys wandered through Central Park. None of them made her have any insane ‘come-get-me’ sex thoughts though.

Monday didn’t come fast enough. Work occupied her, offering a tighter brain leash than her solo weekend attempt. Plus, she figured there’d be fewer interested in the pool later in the evening. The guy had said about half an hour before lock-up would be her best chance of catching it quiet. If he watched the security cameras, he’d know she’d never actually swam. He’d know she didn’t need half an hour, only needed five or ten minutes. But she’d keep trying.

This time.
She’d get back in this time.

If there was someone already at the pool, she’d leave. If someone arrived while she was there, she’d make an excuse and exit. No problem.

When she peeked through the window she saw no splashing in the water—no clothing or towels nearby. Her nerves grew but she pushed herself through the door, crossed the decking area and put her towel on the recliner nearest the shallow end. She felt icy already.

I can do it.

As she turned back something massive reared out of the water with a splash. She jumped. Her lungs locked. What the hell?

She blinked, saw, finally understood. She released her breath in a harsh sigh. He’d surfaced at the shallowest end. She’d not noticed him before because he’d been underwater, apparently swimming length to length with the lungs of a blue whale. Now the water sheeted from his torso. The fairy-lights sent shimmering sparkles over his skin. All his muscles were on show. And he was a trunks man. Not long boardshorts, but not Speedos either. They were black, but there was no slimming effect on that bulge.

She really shouldn’t be looking there. She really, really shouldn’t. But oh man, sometimes she was all too human.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I didn’t realize you were in the water.”

“No problem.” He briefly went under again then emerged to float on his back. He watched her from the center of the pool. A wicked gleam shone in his eyes—
not
a fairylight reflection, this wasn’t as innocent as that. “Don’t let me put you off.”

“No, it’s fine.” She turned away, her startled heart still pounding too quick. “I forgot something.”

She scooped up her towel, not bothering to wrap it round her. She just needed to get out of there. She wasn’t sure what unnerved her more now—the water, or the man. She heard no noise from the pool as she walked as quickly as she could. She got to the edge of the deck. Thought she’d made it. But an arm reached above her, firmly shutting the door she’d begun to open.

She glanced over her shoulder.

He was right behind her. Too close. His hand covered hers and too easily he pried her fingers from the door handle. He tugged gently but firmly, turning her to face him.

Definitely
too close. His other arm was still braced on the door, blocking her exit. His body blocked any escape towards the pool. They were both too naked. He was too hot, too wet.

Actually, so was she.

She looked up, aware of how ragged her breathing had become, like she’d been the one doing the underwater marathon. How could this happen? One look and she was liquefying. It was his body, right? The perfection, size, oh-so visible strength. It was just some weird basic instinct reaction.

Not real.

He still held her hand. She tried to tug it free but he wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t that he held it too tight. But firm. He was so much stronger than her. Her heart thudded faster.

Not turned on. I’m not turned on.

She shifted her weight to her strong leg, but right now it felt as weak as her damaged one. So she leaned back against the door. It was like déjà vu —the two of them in a doorway with so much skin.

And so much desire.

He lifted her hand and glanced down at the backs of her fingers, swiftly lifting his lashes to look back at her eyes. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

For a moment she didn’t understand what he meant. Then she realized—her ring.

“Is everyone saving the date?” His voice sounded low and raspy. Angry.

She shook her head, unable to answer without betraying the wobble in her own voice.

“That isn’t an engagement ring?” He pressed.

She drew in a breath but it wasn’t enough. “It is,” she answered in a low voice.

“But you’re not engaged?”

“No.”

“So it’s not your ring?”

“It is.”

His eyes narrowed.
 

“It’s quite simple really,” she said, her voice going huskier by the second.

“Explain it to me.”

She didn’t want to go there. Didn’t want the moment of sympathy. She’d rather see annoyance in his eyes than pity. She’d had so much pity.

“I was engaged, but now I’m not. I kept the ring.”

“He didn’t want it back?”

“No.”

“And you still want to wear it?”

She couldn’t bring herself to take it off. But that truth didn’t work well with the tale she was telling. “It’s useful.”

He took a moment, then leaned closer. “Stops guys trying it on?”

She swallowed, looking down—away from his piercing gaze. She couldn’t maintain the fiction when he looked at her like that.

“You want them to think you’re taken?” He pushed it.

She shrugged, pretending she didn’t care what guys thought.

“You got hurt?” His voice had dropped to a lethal whisper.

Startled, she glanced back up at him. It wasn’t pity in his eyes. It was hotter than that—protective. Like he was about to go beat the crap out of who ever it was who’d thrown her over.

She didn’t want that either. Definitely not.

“No,” she lied. Even though she sensed he knew it was a lie. “Actually, I keep it as a trophy. In fact, I have a drawer full. I like to change the ring depending on what I’m wearing.”

Something sparked in his face, a glimmer of amusement. “But you still want to keep men at bay.”

“Fine.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t want to get involved with a man at this time in my life.” And that
was
the truth.

He stepped closer and she instinctively pressed her back against the cool door. It didn’t cool her any.

He smiled at that. “Are you sure?”

“Sure about what?”

“Not wanting to get involved. Seems to me you might want to be a little involved.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The way you look at me.” He let go of her and only to trace the tip of his finger along the strap of her swimsuit—down her shoulder towards her chest.

“I—”

His finger was warm, gentle. The lightest of touches. Yet she felt it branding through her flesh to her bones. Melting them.

“Don’t deny it or I’ll have to prove it.” He angled his head and lowered his gaze, watching the path of his finger and its effect on her body.
 

Oh my, the man exuded sensuality, confidence, and warmth. And she’d come over all moth to his flame.

“How would you try to do that?” She could barely ask she was so breathless.

His brows did a little flash-dance. “Look at you, your mind whirring overtime, isn’t it?” He chuckled. “You got a good imagination?”

It seemed she did—because right now her mind was coming up with all kinds of options.

His finger traced lower, still gently marking the edge of her swimsuit above her breasts. She shivered as a moment of fantasy was realized. Her nipples were so tight. Needy. She wanted him to go lower—to touch them. She wanted him to bend and put his hot mouth on them. To take that one step closer and press his body against hers. It was insane—to want this stranger so badly.

He noted the heat flooding her cheeks. “You do,” he nodded. “That’s good to know.”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Couldn’t say no. Or yes. Lust like this hadn’t happened to her before. Sure, she’d had friends tell about meeting a random guy they just had to bang and didn’t really give a damn about otherwise. Where instant chemistry was all it was. And it wasn’t that she was a prude or afraid of sex. It had just never happened to her. Not ‘til now.