Thea watched him from where she still lay on the rug. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was fussing. He dipped his elbow into the water and hissed at the heat, adding a pail of cold water into the mix. He also set up a small table beside the tub, where he placed a tray of bread and cheese, and a goblet of wine for each of them. Wilder Hawthorne was definitely fussing. Over her.
