"But I am mad enough I am not offering you a drink. That you will get yourself."

He deserves that, in truth, and so elects not to push her buttons, tempting though the prospect is. (He must no longer be on the cusp of hypothermia, if this proclivity has returned.) Adhemar allows his arms to slip from around her and steps back. "What would you like?" he asks--referring to the drink, of course. He assumes he won't be drinking alone.