[Wanda's grin widens. She has her own yearning to go sit on his lap again and peel the robe off so that he can touch her skin-to-skin, and she shares this with him so that he knows that she is not unaffected. She wants him quite badly, in a way that is becoming a slow-burning need. But she worked too hard on this dinner and the, ahem, presentation to let her work go to waste.

Really, she just wants this to be as good as possible for them both.]

Poor Shaxx, defeated by a piece of chocolate cake and leaving the cook to freeze. Maybe I should have worn something warmer.

[Now it's a challenge, not that he needs one. She knows that. But it's part of the game.]