don't
want to talk about this。〃
His voice gentled。 〃You have to talk about it sometime。 There are so
many things you've refused to face； about yourself； about your family…〃
〃Not tonight；〃 she insisted softly。 She let her eyes plead； only because
her voice kept its dignity。 〃I want to enjoy myself tonight。 Please？〃
Ross stared first at her； then at the tablecloth； then at the far wall。
When his gaze finally returned she saw a glint of humor。 〃When you look
at me like that； I'd do anything！〃
〃Anything？〃 She clutched at that。
〃Anything。〃
〃Then tell me about the Picasso exhibit。 You saw it when it was in New
York； didn't you？ Was it as spectacular as the reviews claimed？〃
〃Every bit。〃
She waited for him to say more； but he simply stared at her。
〃Go on； Ross。 Tell me about it。〃
His gaze narrowed。 〃I'm not giving up； Chloe。 We'll get back to that
other conversation sooner or later。 For now I'll humor you。〃
〃I'm waiting；〃 she sang brightly； making light of his threat。 〃The
exhibit？〃
The evening passed more quickly than she could have dreamed。 Not only
did they discuss Picasso； but they delved into politics； Wall Street；
and the National Football League as well。 For Chloe； the Chiteaubriand
Bouquetre with B6arnaise Sauce was incidental； as was the mellow red
wine that flowed with the appearance of the beef。 Her attenti