"And I like them. A'ver was a good man, once. He has let power go to his head, and a hot temper get the better of him. He cares too much for proving himself to be man now, I'm afraid... Many of the bronze riders here would make good Weyrleaders. Stop that, Imogen," R'ger warned her gently, shifting her in his arms to keep her legs from being... awkwardly placed. He had gone into the water in his skivvies, and he could always change them for dry ones later, but wet they weren't nearly enough of a barrier between them.
Standing, he leaned his back against the far wall of his bathing pool and... raised his eyebrows at her. Her breath was heavy with wine; she was still very drunk. And as much as he enjoyed the feeling of her breasts soft against him and her slim body in his arms, he couldn't take her up on such a highly amusing, drunken offer.
"Oh, my lady," he murmured, and then dipped his head to kiss her. A long, slow kiss that he knew would make her head spin. R'ger might not have kept a revolving door on his weyr, but that didn't mean he didn't know what he was doing. When he lifted his head, he grinned at her. "We're going to stay right here for a few minutes, until you stop shivering. And then we're going to dry you off... and dress you in warm, dry clothes. And tuck you right into bed, to sleep off all that wine that you and Kenzie had. That's what we're going to do, Imogen."