Without hesitation, she kicked off the edge again, the movement sending a spray of water that drenched them both—and Magnus followed immediately, close enough that the heat of his body trailed hers, his chest brushing against her back as they raced side by side.
They clashed again and again in the pool. Shoulders colliding, hands shoving, bodies deliberately cutting across each other’s paths. Water sprayed everywhere as they tried to throw each other off balance, tangling limbs, splashing hard, each move meant to sabotage the other’s rhythm.
Harold stood far from the pool, arms crossed tightly as he watched the chaos unfold. He winced.
“Wow,” he muttered. “Sophia is ruthless. If I didn’t know they were racing, I’d think she’s trying to murder her husband.”
Gregory let out a low snicker. “Did you forget you’re next on Magnus’s list to defeat?”
Harold’s face visibly paled. His shoulders stiffened as memories of last week’s torture flashed through his mind.
Gregory immediately burst out laughing.
Harold panicked, grabbing Gregory by the sleeve. “Wait—right now his attention isn’t on us. This is our chance. Let’s go! Let’s get out of here before he drags one of us in again!”
Taking full advantage of Magnus’s distraction, the two of them turned and bolted, disappearing as quickly as possible.
After the fifth round ended, Sophia and Magnus hauled themselves out of the pool, water cascading down their bodies as they stopped at the edge, facing each other.
Their chests rose and fell with heavy breaths, muscles taut from exertion, droplets sliding slowly from hair to skin and dripping onto the tiles below.
Sophia was ahead—three wins to his two.
She lifted her chin, lips curved with triumph, eyes sharp as they met his. “Five more,” she declared, voice steady but charged. “I’m counting again.”
Then her gaze hardened, daring him. “And this time, you’re not allowed to let me jump in first. This is a race. Don’t insult me.”
Magnus let out a low, amused snort, dragging a hand through his wet hair and pushing it back. The movement made water trail down his neck, over the hard lines of his shoulders and across his chest, clinging to him like a second skin.
“You and I don’t have the same body,” he said lazily, his voice deep and unhurried. “Of course I’ll give you an advantage.” His eyes flicked over her. “I’m not interested in winning without fairness, Mrs. Graves.”
He turned back toward the pool, rolling his shoulders once, stretching his arms with an ease that only made him look more dangerous—like this was nothing more than a warm-up to him.
“Let’s go,” he added calmly, glancing back at her. “We’re not staying here all night.”
Sophia pressed her lips together, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face before she quickly masked it. After a brief pause, she looked away and let it drop—though her heartbeat stubbornly refused to calm.
“Three… two… one.”
They jumped in again.
Water exploded around them as they hit the pool. This time, he didn’t hold back.
As before, he let her surge ahead—but only for a heartbeat.
Then he moved.
The water seemed to part for him as his body cut through it with ruthless precision. His strokes were powerful, controlled, deadly smooth.
They completed four laps, him winning two of them.
The final lap began.
He reached the wall at the other end first, his hand slapping against the edge as he turned smoothly and pushed off to return. By the time Sophia touched the wall and turned back, he had already crossed half the length of the pool.
Then he slowed.
Not enough to be obvious—just enough to let her close the distance.
