She let out a self-directed annoyed sigh as she flipped off the locks.

Phillip took one look at her tousled hair, sleepy eyes, and practical navy terry robe, and smiled. “Well, I did tell you not to dress up.”

“I’m sorry. I fell asleep.” Distracted, she pushed at her hair. She hated being mussed, particularly when he looked so fresh and alert. And gorgeous.

“If you’re tired, I’ll take a rain check.”

“No, I . . . if I sleep any more now I’ll end up wide awake at three A.M. I hate hotel rooms at three A.M.” She stepped back to let him in. “I’ll just get dressed.”

“Stay comfortable,” he suggested, and used his free hand to cup the nape of her neck and bring her forward for a casual kiss. “I’ve already seen you naked. And a very appealing sight it was.”

It appeared, she decided, that her dignity was still just out of reach. “I’m not going to claim that was a mistake.”

“Good.” He set the wine he carried on her coffee table.

“But,” she said, with what she considered admirable patience, “neither was it wise. We’re both sensible people.”

“Speak for yourself, doc. I stop feeling sensible every time I get a whiff of you. What is that you wear?”

She leaned back when he leaned in to sniff at her. “Phillip.”

“Sybill.” And he laughed. “How about if I attempt to be civilized and not cart you off to bed until you’re a little more awake?”

“I appreciate your restraint,” she said tightly.

“And so you should. Hungry?”

“What is this almost pathological need of yours to feed me?”

“You’re the analyst,” he told her with a shrug. “I’ve got the wine. You got some glasses?”

She might have sighed, but it wouldn’t have been constructive. She did want to talk to him, to put their relationship on an even footing again. To ask his advice. And, she hoped, to enlist his help in persuading Seth to accept her friendship.

She took the two short, thick glasses the hotel provided, lifting her eyebrow when Phillip sneered at them. He had a damn sexy sneer.

“They’re an insult to this very delightful wine,” he said, as he opened the bottle with the stainless-steel corkscrew he’d brought with him. “But if they’re the best you can offer we’ll just have to make do.”

“I forgot to pack my Waterford.”

“Next time.” He poured the pretty straw-colored wine into the glasses, handed her one. “To beginnings, middles, and endings. We seem to be at all three.”

“Which means?”

“The charade’s ended, the teamwork is established, and we’ve just become lovers. I’m happy with all three aspects of our very interesting relationship.”

“Teamwork?” She picked the aspect that didn’t shame her or make her nervous.

“Seth’s a Quinn. With your help we’ll make that legal and permanent, and soon.”

She stared down into her wine. “It’s important to you that he have your name.”

“His grandfather’s name,” Phillip corrected. “And it can’t be nearly as important to me as it is to Seth.”