Malvor noticed her discomfort immediately.
And, of course, he preened like a peacock.
Chest out.Shoulders back.Abs on full display.
He strutted through the water like a man with not a single ounce of shame in his divine body.
Because—let's be honest—he was gorgeous.And he knew it.
Anastasia, to her credit, tried to keep her gaze neutral.
She really did.
But then she made the mistake of looking.
And Malvor grinned.
Then, in the most exaggerated, obnoxious, theatrical way possible—He adjusted himself.
Right in front of her.With eye contact.
Anastasia made the sound of a dying cat mixed with a deflating balloon.
Malvor beamed.
"Oh, Annie," he purred, "are you okay?"
Something wicked crossed his expression.
And then—
He sang the words to her.
"Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?"
Complete with a dance.A dance that featured—entirely too much—hip action.
Water splashed.His stupid, stupid speedo clung.The whole scene was an onslaught of smug male ego.
Anastasia dragged a hand down her face.
"You are so obnoxious."
Malvor spun dramatically in the water, winking.
"And yet," he purred, "you're still watching."
"Swim with me, Annie?" Malvor teased, voice smooth as silk.
"No."Deadpan. Immediate.
"Annie Amore, swiiiim-mmm."He dragged out the last syllable in a whine, eyes glinting with mischief.
Anastasia raised a brow.
"Amore? Did you finally run out of obnoxious English nicknames?"
Oh. Mouthing now, is she?
Malvor grinned.He could work with this.
"Annie hot cheeks, I am afraid that is a no.But I could speak to you in most languages."
Her brow lifted slightly.
"Oh yes, my lovely. I am fluent in more than fifteen languages.Not including the old dialects of any of them."
"Aren't you just so clever," she deadpanned, still very deliberately not looking anywhere near his hips.
He smacked his lips.
"Oh, I am a certified genius. Comes with being divine.My brain actually holds so much more information. It processes faster than yours—"
"Then why do I get you so flustered and out of words?"She interrupted smoothly.
His mouth dropped open.A perfect, stunned O.
Anastasia smirked.
Then—Without a single ounce of shame—Malvor strode out of the water.
And somehow, somehow, he looked even better than before.
She did not look.Absolutely did not.
And still—his low, knowing chuckle told her he knew she was struggling.
"I am obviously not the only flustered one, Annie-kins," he purred, eyes dark with amusement.
"Fuck you!" she snapped.
His grin turned wicked.
"Oh, please do, Annie.Whenever you want, I am available."
Her mouth snapped shut with an audible click.
She paused.
A thought, unbidden, coiled in the back of her mind.
Had she ever wanted that?
Sex had always been enjoyable enough.But it was just a job.Just an expectation.
What would wanting be like?
Wanting another person?
She was so lost in the thought, she didn't notice him moving until he was right in front of her.
Towering. Close.
She startled, tipping her chin up to meet his gaze.Rare for her. At 5'10", there weren't many people who could stand over her like this.
But he had to be at least seven inches taller.
Their eyes met—her bright, electric blue against his golden tan.
And the look he gave her—
Oh.
It wasn't just hunger.It wasn't just lust.
It was something more.Something hot and demanding.Something possessive.
Like a man who had been waiting for something longer than he cared to admit.
And that thought?
That terrified her.
Malvor stepped closer.
Too close.
Close enough that she could feel his warmth—The radiant heat of him wrapping around her like something tangible.
They were sharing breath now.The space between them so thin it may as well have vanished.
And gods—he smelled sweet.
Like sugar.Like caramel.Like something decadent and dangerous.