Over my dead body. Bitch. "You're lying."
She snickered. "Ask Chet."
What. A. Bitch.
She struck first. Her pool noodle cut through the air with a sharp whistle aimed directly at my shoulder. I raised my own instinctively, blocking the blow. The foam rods clacked together with a hollow sound that echoed across the water.
"You're going down," Jessica hissed.
"Not today."
We circled each other on our ridiculous inflatable mounts, water sloshing around the horses as we paddled for position. From the outside it probably looked hilarious. Two women in fake chainmail bikinis battling with pool toys while cameras zoomed in for dramatic angles. But Jessica wasn't playing for laughs. Neither was I.
She swung again. Fast. Aggressive. I blocked it, the impact vibrating down my arms. Jessica leaned forward, trying to shove me sideways off my horse. I shifted my weight instead, letting the horse tilt just enough to absorb the force. Years of working with animals had taught me something important. Balance wasn't about fighting motion. It was about flowing with it.
Jessica attacked again. And again. Her strikes came faster now, more reckless. She was strong, I'd give her that. But she was predictable. Every attack started the same way. A tightening of her shoulders. A flicker in her eyes. A shift in her hips.
I watched. Waited. Learned. She swung high. I ducked. She swung low. I lifted my knees, redirected the force of the blow with a kick. Jessica growled under her breath. Frustration was creeping in now. Her attacks lost their rhythm.
Her breathing quickened. "Why won't you just?—"
I moved. Not with the pool noodle. With the horse. I paddled hard with my legs, pushing the inflatable steed forward. Water churned around us as the pink horse surged toward hers. The impact was just enough to knock her balance sideways.
Jessica wobbled. Her arms windmilled wildly as she tried to stay upright. For a split second, she was completely exposed. I lifted my pool noodle. Gave her a gentle tap right in the center of her chest.
Jessica toppled backward with a furious scream, splashing into the bright blue water in a wave big enough to soak half the contestants standing at the pool's edge.
Silence fell. For one strange moment the entire set froze. I sat alone on my ridiculous pink horse in the middle of the pool, water dripping down my arms and legs, my heart pounding from the sudden burst of adrenaline. During our spat, every other contestant had been eliminated.
"And the winner is—" Chet's voice cracked through the speakers, breathless with excitement. "Victoria!"
The crowd exploded. Cheers. Applause. Camera flashes popping like fireworks. Confetti exploded from launchers placed around the edges of the pool. I barely noticed. Because I was looking at Egon.
He had risen from the throne. The movement had been immediate, instinctive, like something inside him had pulled him to his feet before he could think about it. His golden eyes were locked on me. And even from across the pool, I could see everything written there. Pride. Hunger. Possession. And something deeper that made my breath catch in my throat. Something that looked dangerously close to love.
An hour later, I was showered and changed. The ridiculous bikini was gone, replaced with a flowing floral skirt that brushed my calves and a snug little tank top with thin spaghetti straps. Simple sandals completed the look. It wasn't fancy. But judging by the way Egon's gaze slowly moved over me, I was pretty sure he wasn't evaluating my footwear.
The after-party blurred together in a swirl of noise, music, and forced smiles. Contestants drifted past me offering congratulations that sounded suspiciously like insults wrapped in glitter. A few of them smiled too brightly. Others didn't bother hiding the irritation in their eyes. Jessica had disappeared almost immediately after the competition ended. Stormed off, actually. Her mascara had been smeared halfway down her cheeks, her hair dripping pool water, the last shred of her dignity floating somewhere in the blue-dyed water behind her. I didn't feel bad. Not even a little.
I'd won. Which meant the private dinner with Egon belonged to me. Hours alone with him. Hours where we didn't have to sneak glances across crowded rooms or pretend we barely knew each other.
"Ready to go?"
Egon appeared beside me like he'd materialized out of the warm tropical dusk. He had changed out of the barbarian king costume, and the transformation should not have been as devastating as it was. Jeans. A simple dark t-shirt stretched across his chest, clinging to the powerful lines of muscle beneath it. The man somehow looked even more dangerous without the theatrical armor. More real. More mine.
"More than ready," I said.
We slipped quietly away from the party before anyone could stop us. The path leading away from the main resort wound between tall palms and flowering tropical shrubs. The sky above the ocean burned in streaks of orange and pink as the sun dipped toward the horizon. The air cooled slightly as evening settled in.
"You were magnificent," Egon said after a few moments, his voice low and rough beside me. "I did not expect…"
"Didn't expect me to take it seriously?" I finished, my tone turning slightly defensive before I could stop myself. "I know it looked ridiculous. I know the whole thing was stupid." I kicked a loose pebble off the path. "But I couldn't let Jessica win. I couldn't let any of them think they had a chance with you."
Egon stopped walking. The sudden halt made me turn toward him. His hands rose slowly, cupping my face with a gentleness that still surprised me every time. His thumbs brushed across my cheekbones.
"They never had a chance," he said quietly. The intensity in his voice stole the breath from my lungs. "Not from the moment I smelled you. Not from the moment I knew." His golden eyes locked onto mine. "I am yours. My beast is yours. We desire no other."
Something soft melted in my chest. I leaned into him without thinking, my hands closing around his wrists as if anchoring myself there. "I know," I whispered. "I just… I needed to kick her ass."
