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Breathe for Me(12)

By:Natalie Anderson


But he didn’t. He strolled into the center of her small lounge and stared. She glanced around—imagined seeing it for the first time with no clue of the reason. Yeah, it probably did look weird. She glanced at his expression, and her laughter bubbled out.

Xander looked slowly round the room. Had he misread her personality completely? She really was a total rule breaker? She’d set up some weed growing operation in her apartment in the middle of the city? He stared at the trays and trays of seedlings and the lamps on to promote their growth.

“You think I’m crazy, right?” She rested against the arm of her sofa and laughed some more—pretty much bent double at his expression.

His mood soared at hearing her laugh like that and frankly, he’d been surfing a happy wave as it was. Damn it felt good. He’d have to make her laugh more. But he couldn’t look away from her walls for long. “What are you growing?”

There were hundreds—if not thousands—of small plants lining the shelves.

“Basil. Oregano. Stuff like that.”

“In bulk?” She was turning her Manhattan shoebox into a market garden? “Most people put books on their bookcases.”

“I know, I’ve had to put them in boxes.”

“Why?”

“Well, I need the herbs.”

“For what?”

She turned to him, her eyes alight with amusement and what—excitement? “You really want to know?”

“Absolutely.” How could anyone not want to know? And he definitely wanted to know what it was that had her so enthused.

“I’m an intern at an urban art institute—a non-profit organization that tries to raise art and design awareness in the city.”

He didn’t get what the plants had to do with art. “I’m guessing you’re an unpaid intern.”

“Aren’t we all?” She smiled, another small chuckle escaping.

He smiled right back at her. “And isn’t New York already full of incredible art and design?”

“Sure, but sometimes we need reminding. Challenging. We need to shake things up a bit.”

“With herbs?” How was that going to work?

“Legal ones.” She laughed. “Sure, why not?”

He still didn’t get it. He walked over to her, unable to resist crouching so he could see into her face better. “What is it you’re planning?”

Her smile as she looked down at him was the cutest thing. “I’m working on a series of pop-ups. Temporary shops, eateries, gourmet soup places, coffee carts. Ultimately I’d love to do a whole precinct.”

“So its retail?” She was going to sell the herbs?

“More than that. It’s about urban growth and regeneration. Finding something where you’d least expect it—in a construction site or something there’s suddenly something fun and whimsical but practical at the same time. Enhancing the communities we already have. Providing a focal point for a while.”

“A focal point of herbs.” He couldn’t help the scepticism.

But she just laughed again which made him warm to her more. She wasn’t bothered that he didn’t get it? It was nice to meet someone who wasn’t bothered about getting approval.

“I’m putting up a temporary pizza oven. A shack really. A literally ‘living’ room. The walls are going to be made with the herbs.”

“Uh huh.” He still couldn’t quite see it but he was trying. “Hence the need for so many.”

“That’s right.”

“You got people helping you?” It sounded to him like she was going to need it.

“Team Greene.” She nodded.

“Cute.” He chuckled. “Who’s in the team?”

“Um.” She colored. “Just me so far. But I’m working on it.”

“Other interns don’t want to get in on the action?” Was she gearing up for a total fail? He hoped not, it struck him she had a few burdens she was shouldering already.

“I think I’ve won one over. But some of them think it’s not what you know but who you know.”

The networking game. He understood it well. And though he knew shouldn’t want to help—shouldn’t complicate this—he couldn’t resist the urge riding inside. “I might be able to introduce you—”

“No that’s okay.” She cut off his offer before he could make it. “I’m going to do it anyway. I’m not worried.” Her smile quirked. “Much.”

He nodded, briefly disappointed at her rejection, but impressed with her determination. She wanted to succeed independently. He respected that. “So all the plants—”

“Are going to be part of the display, yes. As well as being ingredients. Both form and function.”

No wonder she always smelt so edible—she was living in a greenhouse. He looked up at the impish grin on her face and had to fight the sudden urge to lean forward and inhale her delicious scent.

“You’d better go get changed,” he warned.

He paced the length of the small lounge, and back again after she’d slipped to her room. She really was Snow freaking White, with her good heart and her altruism.

But how was it she stayed in this apartment building? Upper East it wasn’t, but it was one of the most exclusive on this side of the park. Hell, most of Manhattan was out of an unpaid intern’s league. And with the security, the all too rare rooftop pool, the very selective screening process... he’d bet his lunch she had contacts in the building. But she didn’t want to take advantage of other contacts or that kind of networking?

He thought back on what he knew. Her accident was the first thing he thought of. Red flags fluttered again. He really should stay away. Except he saw how she looked at him and damned if he could resist the invitation in those eyes.

She wanted, but she was shy. That was okay. He’d draw her out—hell, he’d already pushed way further than he’d intended by the pool just then. As for the spark that flashed when he got close, the way she blushed when he said something so innocuous—what was she imagining?

She liked it when he led.

Xander was more of a turn-about kinda guy—but maybe he could work on that with her. But he was going to have to be careful not to break his own rules. Already he’d succumbed to the urge to offer her help. Fortunately she’d refused. He was going to have to keep his usual boundaries firm.

Just fun. Always fast, fun and free. And in this case? Definitely just the once.

It was clear she didn’t want to talk about her problem at the pool. Probably not her past or her accident either. She wanted to keep her secrets and her wounds closed? He was the same. He shared his past with no one—certainly not a woman he wanted to bed. Who wanted to revisit the horrors in their lives? So those shadows in her eyes weren’t his concern. His only concern was their chemistry.

She reappeared dressed in a long skirt that floated when she walked and a not quite-sheer-enough white blouse. Pretty and feminine, like her. His mouth watered. Any lingering doubts about messing with her vanished. He was all wolf now.





Chapter Seven





Chelsea walked as quickly as she could to her door. The look on his face had her heating. Her body was thawing. She still couldn’t believe he’d nearly gone down on her in public, in broad daylight. That she’d let him.

And now, would he block her exit with a heavy hand like he had at the pool the other night? She half hoped so. It was crazy, but she couldn’t resist going with this. With him. She wanted to know what he’d try next—yet she couldn’t admit to herself what she really hoped it would be. But instead of stopping her, he followed her out to the corridor.

“You have a favorite restaurant, or is this your first time in New York?” he asked.

Chelsea shook her head, feeling wired in the face of his focus, his acute attention. “I’ve been here lots, but you choose.”

“Lots like ten trips, or lots like a hundred?”

She was from upstate New York but had stayed in Manhattan many times. She knew it pretty well. “Lots like fifty?” She hazarded a guess. “But this is my first time living here. Who doesn’t want to live in the city, at least for a little while?”

“So you’re not here to stay?”

She shook her head and led the way out of the building but then paused, waiting to follow his direction. “It’s transitional. Like my work. Temporary installations.”

“Why temporary?” He slowly drew her along the pavement.

“Why not?” She smiled. “Everything’s temporary, right?”

“So you’re an artist.”

“I’m interested in urban design, yes. Challenging the environment we’re in. Shaking it up a bit. And providing a talking point, preferably one that’s a bit fun.”

“But not fun enough to stick around?”

She shrugged. “The novelty wears off. Better to exit on a high.”

“So what are you going to do once it’s done?”

“Go to another city. Maybe a smaller town. Do some work there. Try a different project. See how it goes.”

“It’s all part of your study?”

She nodded. “Ultimately.”

“Professor Greene sounds good.”

She smiled. “Well Dr Lawson sounds good.”