“It should be,” Magnus replied. “Otherwise no one would use it this time of year.”
He pushed away from the wall and swam past her, forcing himself to focus on the rhythm ofhis strokes instead of the awareness that had tightened deep in his body the moment she stepped into the water.
She turned as he moved around her, treading water with an easy grace that suggested the pool wasn’t unfamiliar territory to her. For a moment she simply watched him cut through the water again, her gaze following the clean efficiency of his strokes as though she were studying something she hadn’t expected to admire.
“Do you swim every morning?” she asked.
Magnus reached the wall and braced one arm along the edge before answering. “Most mornings.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “Even when you’re negotiating with rival families?”
The question carried a hint of disbelief, and Magnus found himself unexpectedly amused by it. He pushed back from the wall and glided beneath the surface again, letting the water close over his head before rising a few feet away from her.For a brief moment he studied her without speaking.
Elia floated easily in the water, dark hair drifting around her shoulders, the thin shirt she wore clinging in shifting lines that made it difficult to remember the conversation was supposed to remain civilized.
Swimming had always been a discipline for him. Away to burn off anger, to sharpen thought, to impose order when negotiations or family politics threatened to grind patience into dust.Yet now the calm rhythm he relied on had been disrupted by the presence of the womanwatchinghim.
Magnus allowed himself the smallest hint of a smile as he brushed the water from his face. “Especially then,” hesaid.
Elia tilted her head slightly, studying him as though she were trying to determine whether that answer was meant as humor or warning. Then she driftedinto the deeper section of the pool. Her movements were cautious at first, but after a few strokes her confidence returned.
She swam well.
Magnus watched without appearing to watch. Elia moved with clean, efficient lines that spoke of years of practice. She crossed the length of the pool and turned smoothly, dark hair spreading briefly across the surface before sliding behind her again.
“You didn’t tell me you were a swimmer,” he said when she reached the wall nearhim.
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Everything matters,” Magnus replied.
She rested her hands on the edge and lifted her face toward him, her shoulders rising from the water. The movement pressed the damp fabric of the shirt more closely against her skin, outlining the curves Magnus had been trying not to study since she stepped into thepool.
Her gaze held his with steadiness.“Worrying about everything sounds exhausting.”
“It can be.”
Magnus didn’t move away from the wall. He watched the small changes in her expressioninstead. The lift of her chin. The faint tightening in her throat when she realized how close he stood.A thin line of water slipped from the ends of her hair and ran down her neck. His attention followed it before he forced himself to drag his gaze back to her eyes, brilliant in the early morning light, struggling to decide between blue andgray.
Silence settled between them, heavy and charged.
He saw the small droplets of water clinging to her lashes and the slight parting of her lips as her breathing shifted. The temptation to erase the remaining distance between them rose with dangerous clarity. Magnus knew exactly how easily he could pull her into his arms and take that mouth, how quickly restraint would vanish once he did. Not yet. Not here, and not before he understood every threat circlingher.
He forced the impulsedown.
For a brief second Elia’s gaze dropped to his mouth, as though she had expected him to close that distance. The realization flickered across her expression when he didn’t move. Confusion first. Then something far more dangerous. Awareness.
Her shoulders lifted above the water, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the pool as if she had to anchor herself against the moment.
Magnus saw the shift and knew she understood exactly what he had done.He had chosen not to touch her.That knowledge moved between them like heat. He straightened and climbed out of thepool.“Come here.”
Elia hesitated again before following him to the shallow steps.
He handed her one of the thick towels waiting on the chair beside the water.“You were studying law,” he said as he wrapped another towel around his shoulders. “Contract law.”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s see what you remember.”
