Her fingers were linked and gripped tight, her mind just beginning to blur when he eased away.

“And that was because?” she managed.

“I guess I needed it.”

His lips brushed over hers once, then again, before she found the presence of mind to lay a hand on his chest. A hand, she realized, that wanted to ball into a fist on that soft shirt and hold him in place rather than nudge him away.

But she nudged him away. It was simply a matter of handling him, she reminded herself. Of staying in control.

“I think as appetizers go, that was very appealing. But we should order.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He wanted to know, he realized. Wanted to help, wanted to smooth those shadows out of her incredibly clear eyes and make them smile.

He hadn’t expected to develop a taste for her so quickly.

“It’s nothing.”

“Of course it is. And there can’t be anything much more therapeutic than dumping on a relative stranger.”

“You’re right.” She opened her menu. “But most relative strangers aren’t particularly interested is someone else’s minor problems.”

“I’m interested in you.”

She smiled as she shifted her gaze from the entrées to his face. “You’re attracted to me. That’s not always the same thing.”

“I think I’m both.”

He took her hand, held it as the wine was brought to the table, as the label was turned for his approval. He waited while a sample was poured into his glass, watching her in that steady, all-else-aside way she’d discovered he had. He lifted it, sipped, still looking at her.

“It’s perfect. You’ll like it,” he murmured to her while their glasses were being filled.

“You’re right,” she told him after she sipped. “I like it very much.”

“Shall I tell you tonight’s specials,” their waiter began in a cheerful voice. While he recited, they sat, hands linked, eyes locked.

Sybill decided she heard about every third word and didn’t really give a damn. He had the most incredible eyes. Like old gold, like something she’d seen in a painting in Rome. “I’ll have the mixed salad, with the vinaigrette, and the fish of the day, grilled.”

He kept watching her, his lips curving slowly as he drew her hand across the table to kiss her palm. “The same. And take your time. I’m very attracted,” he said to Sybill as the waiter rolled his eyes and walked away. “And I’m very interested. Talk to me.”

“All right.” What harm could it do? she decided. Since, sooner or later, they would have to deal with each other on a different sort of level, it might be helpful if they understood one another now. “I’m the good daughter.” Amused at herself, she smiled a little. “Obedient, respectful, polite, academically skilled, professionally successful.”

“It’s a burden.”

“Yes, it can be. Of course, I know better, intellectually, than to allow myself to be ruled by parental expectations at this stage of my life.”

“But,” Phillip said, giving her fingers a squeeze, “you are. We all are.”