Sebastian's pov
I watched her for a long moment, my expression flat despite the war going on just beneath the surface.
"My arm's getting tired," I said, tone even.
"No, it's not," she murmured, eyes half-lidded.
"The water's cold now."
"Nope," she insisted softly, her head lolling against the edge of the tub like she was royalty and I was her long-suffering servant.
Her drunken pout was softening my resolve by the second.
But the moment passed. Duty beat desire--this time.
I lifted her out of the cooling bath and wrapped her in a thick towel, drying her off with brisk, practiced movements.
She scowled, clearly not a fan of the change. Then she leaned in, wrinkled her nose, and made a face like she'd just smelled a dead fish.
"You stink."
The irony wasn't lost on me, considering
