Breathe for Me by Natalie Anderson Read Free Book Online Page A

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