It was embarrassing. But truthfully? It wasn’t so much him who frightened her. But her reaction to him. Too much, right? While the sensual side of herself might be starting to function again, it wasn’t going to be with him. Sensible people didn’t play with dangerous weapons. And he was definitely dangerous for all that charming smile and casual flirt.
Anyway, he wasn’t interested. Not now she’d let him believe she was ‘taken’. And she was, right? Tom mightn’t be here anymore, but more than that, she’d changed. She wasn’t a thing to be ‘taken’. She certainly wasn’t some mindless creature, all malleable and open to Xander’s use, there to enact his every sexual wish...
She clamped her jaw, furious with the burn searing her insides. The thought of that couldn’t be turning her on more?
She ripped her gaze away, saw a yellow car cruising towards her on the street. She raised a hand, shouted. The driver saw her, pulled over.
Chelsea crossed the path to meet it, horrifically conscious of how relentlessly Xander watched her. How much closer he was coming. Her limp was worse, her leg had totally seized. But she lifted her chin and hobbled to the cab.
She breathed out as she shut the door, wanting those hot urges to escape on the air. She had far too much else to think about. She really wasn’t ready. She was here to resurrect her studies, her career. But the coolness of his reaction in that moment bit—like it was an opportunity lost.
She was a coward.
“You’re early today.” The girl at the coffee cart said twenty minutes later. “I’m still setting up. But I won’t be a tick if you don’t mind waiting?”
“Thanks. Don’t worry, there’s no hurry.” Chelsea answered. She couldn’t even get into the building yet anyway—not for another five minutes or so. She watched the woman prepare the stand and smiled. Dressed top-to-toe in black, the barista also wore roller skates, kneepads and looked whippet fit.
Admiration and envy surged through Chelsea. What she’d give to move that fast and free again. Instead her leg was still aching slightly from the hurried hobble to the cab.
“You skate to work?” She couldn’t resist asking the obvious. Those skates were sleek with a king hit of retro style. In other words, awesome.
“Good training for derby.”
“Roller derby? That totally vicious all-chick sport scene?” Chelsea laughed. She shouldn’t be surprised, attitude oozed from the barista’s pores.
The woman grinned wickedly. “Uh huh.”
To be that strong? Yeah, Chelsea was jealous.
The barista glanced at her expression and laughed. “You should try it sometime.”
Chelsea wished.
“Black coffee, right?” The girl smiled.
“You remember everyone’s orders?” Chelsea was impressed, she’d only been coming to the cart this week.
“Well some are easier than others.” The woman shot her a dry look. “Especially one that simple.”
“Oh, right.” Chelsea palmed her forehead. Dunce.
Coffee queen skated up to her and offered her a marshmallow with a wink. “I’m Luisa.”
“Thanks Luisa,” Chelsea took the candy with a grin. “I’m Chelsea.”
“You work in this weird building?” Luisa jerked her chin towards the brightly colored building behind them as she banged the coffee machine.
“Only as an intern. Only a couple of months.”
“Cool though?”
“Yeah.” She’d only been there the week and she was trying not to panic already. “It’s a challenge.”
“Even better. Can do, will do, right?”
“I hope so.” Chelsea grinned at her attitude. “You like the coffee scene?”
Luisa shrugged. “It’s a means to movement. Far and fast.”
Yeah, it was clear she was a traveller, her accent certainly wasn’t from these parts. Chelsea couldn’t pick it—Australian maybe? “Hence the wheels?”
“You got it.” Luisa winked as she handed her a steaming cup. “Who do you intern for?”
“It’s an art and design institute, in a tiny office suite on the fourth floor.” Chelsea cautiously sipped the scalding liquid and felt the kick.
“So you’re an artist?”
“Kind of. I’m still studying.” She’d finished an undergrad in Fine Art and was now working on a post-grad Urban Planning and Design qualification—because artists like her needed a day job. She was a couple of years behind but at least now she was progressing again. She loved research. Wanted to do a bigger post-grad project if she could—and travel more with it. “What about you, where are you from?”
Before the girl could answer Chelsea’s phone chimed. She didn’t need to glance at the screen to know who it was, only one person called this early. Every day.
“Sorry.” She stepped away from Luisa’s stand with an apologetic grin. “I have to get this or there’ll be trouble.”
“No worries.” Luisa waved her away.
“Hey Mom.” Chelsea walked towards her building.
“How are you, honey?”
Her mother’s warm tones softened Chelsea’s frustration. The calls were born from love, she had no right to resent them.
“Good. Really good,” she answered. The project is going well.” Chelsea grinned at the security guy who was just unlocking the doors.
“You’re at work already?” Her mother asked.
“Uh huh.” Chelsea ruefully muttered, knowing what was coming.
“But it’s so early. Are you sure you’re getting enough rest?”
Chelsea inwardly sighed. “Mom I’m fine. Truly.” No way was she going to mention last night’s false fire alarm. Her mother would have a fit.
She loved her parents but right now she was glad they were miles away. She needed them to be for a while. After two years of close concern and being wrapped in cotton wool, she needed the space to take things on in her own time and way. “I’m fine Mom. Honestly I am. Trust me.”
“I do. I just—”
“I know.” Of course she understood her mother’s concern—her daughter had nearly died. Her daughter’s life had changed irrevocably. But her daughter, Chelsea, now needed to get on with it. “I’m okay. I’m really okay.”
“Alright.” Her mother’s sigh echoed her own. “You have a good day.”
“I will. You too.”
She would have a good day. She’d focus on her work. She was going to have to work all hours to get it all done. Not that she’d tell her mom that either.
A new city, new job, new apartment. Alone. All challenge. And perfect.
But she wasn’t adding a new man to that list. Definitely not some over-sized, over-confident, doctor with a Superman syndrome. No matter how magnetic he was. She wasn’t even going to think about him again. Not even a little.
She went up to her desk and got planning. An hour later she pinned up the new sketch for her pop-up ‘art’n’eaterie’.
“You really think you can pull it off?” Steve, the other intern, asked as he passed her desk on his way in, one of Luisa’s coffees in his hand.
“Absolutely.” At least, she thought so. Her pop-up pizza project was ‘out there’ and she had to fit it around all her other duties, some of which were definitely of the more menial variety. But as an intern she couldn’t expect to be working on the fun stuff all the time. She had to pull her weight. That was part of the attraction.
“Be awesome if you do,” Steve said.
She nodded. She really wanted to use it as an example for her post-grad research paper. “How’s your project going?” she asked.
“Not as well as I’d like.” Steve parked on the edge of her desk and started talking through his issues.
Chelsea leaned back in her seat and listened, enjoying that he was asking her advice—that he seemed to value her input.
No one here knew the full story of the last two years. She’d briefly mentioned that her limp was the result of an old accident and hid the scarring under long skirts. She’
d explained the gap in her studies as time away travelling. That was a small lie, but it meant no one looked at her with wariness or pity in their eyes.
Admittedly she wasn’t exactly wholly independent. She had scholarship funding to help see her through the summer internship, but there was no real ‘special treatment’ in that, it was normal. And she had backing from her family—her father’s friend had secured her the short-term loan of the apartment. But now here, she was alone and on her way. What success she made of this time was up to her.
There was just that one last hurdle to overcome.
She worked late and picked up a carry-out on the way home. She walked quick as she could into the apartment building. There were no ridiculously handsome men out running—to her relief, right?
She flashed the night manager a tight smile and took the elevator to her floor. She ate a little, then got changed and waited until it was after hours and the pool would be empty. Then she tried once more.
Though the water looked warm, Chelsea shivered. The last time she’d dived under it had been late at night. The last time she’d gone in water she’d nearly drowned.
Chapter Four
Xander didn’t get home ’til midnight. He refused to give into temptation and go knock on her door, so he made sure it was too late to be able to. She’d be tucked up in bed now—most likely with her fiancé.
He felt like punching something.
He tensed as his anger doubled. Violence wasn’t his thing—he’d seen enough of it when he was a kid. That he could be feeling violent because of a woman? That really wasn’t right. Why the hell this one woman bugged him so much he didn’t know—but with one look she’d gotten under his skin. Maybe Logan had been right. Maybe he needed a holiday.
This morning she’d run away from him before he’d gotten the answers he wanted. But her eyes had gotten bigger with every second she’d gazed at him. Hell, she’d been drinking him in. Yeah, it was a shot to the ego to have a woman with lips as luscious as hers looking like she wanted to suck up everything he had to give her.
His body had a hell of a lot it wanted to give her.
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.
Breathe for Me (Be for Me 1: Xander) Page 4
