Leroy's proud grin only widened as he stood at the edge of the steaming cave pool, a faint mist curling around his shoulders like a crown of triumph. He'd done it.
Against all odds, and after muttering every name in the book at his impossible wife, he had found her a bath.
"Enjoy, Mouseling," he said, holding out his hand. "Your bath awaits."
The cave was veiled in ribbons of steam, the air warm and humming with the soft drip of water from the rocks. Lorraine's lips parted slightly, her eyes lighting with genuine wonder as she took in the sight. It looked almost enchanted, like a secret refuge carved by fate itself.
When she turned back to him, that wonder curved into mischief. He'd seen that look before. It was the same one that preceded her troublemaking ideas, the same one that made his blood stir even before she spoke.
"Well?" she said, her tone sweet and challenging. "Aren't you going to turn around? I'm going to undress."
