He grinned because he saw the yielding. “I have beluga.”

She tapped her fingers on the wrist rest of her keyboard. “Flowers, champagne, caviar. Do you usually come so well equipped when you break and enter?”

“Only when I want to apologize and throw myself on the mercy of a beautiful woman. Got any mercy to spare, Sybill?”

“I suppose I might. I wasn’t keeping Gloria’s phone call from you, Phillip.”

“I know you weren’t. Believe me, if I hadn’t figured that out myself, Cam would have beaten it into my head this morning.”

“Cam.” She blinked in shock. “He doesn’t like me.”

“You’re wrong. He was worried about you. Can I persuade you to take a break from work?”

“All right.” She saved her file, shut down the machine. “I’m glad we’re not angry with each other. It only complicates things. I saw Seth this afternoon.”

“So I hear.”

She accepted the wine, sipped. “Did you and your brothers clean up the house?”

He gave her a pained and pitiful look. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going to have nightmares as it is.” He took her hand, drew her over to the sofa. “Let’s talk about something less frightening. Seth showed me the charcoal sketch of his boat that you helped him with.”

“He’s really good. He catches on so quickly. Really listens, pays attention. He’s got a fine eye for detail and perspective.”

“I saw the one you did of the house, too.” Casually, Phillip leaned forward for the bottle and topped off her wine. “You’re really good, too. I’m surprised you didn’t pursue art as a profession.”

“I had lessons as a girl. Art, music, dance. I took a few courses in college.” Desperately relieved that they were no longer at odds, she settled back and enjoyed her wine. “It wasn’t anything serious. I’d always known I’d go into psychology.”

“Always?”

“More or less. The arts aren’t for people like me.”

“Why?”

The question confused her, put her on guard. “It wasn’t practical. Did you say you had beluga in there?”

There, he thought, the first step back. He’d simply have to go around her. “Mmm-hmm.” He took out the container and the toast points, refilled her glass. “What instrument do you play?”

“Piano.”

“Yeah? Me, too.” He shot her an easy smile. “We’ll have to work up a duet. My parents loved music. All of us play something.”

“It’s important that a child learn to appreciate music.”

“Sure, it’s fun.” He spread a toast point, offered it. “Sometimes the five of us would kill a Saturday night playing together.”

“You all played together? That was nice. I always hated playing in front of anyone. It’s so easy to make a mistake.”

“So what if you did? Nobody’s going to cut off your fingers for hitting a sour note.”

“My mother would be mortified, and that would be worse than—” She caught herself, frowned into her wine, started to set it aside. He moved smoothly, adding more to her glass.