"Tim Burke?" she whispered to herself, dropping her eyes from the door. It was beyond her how he thought it was OK just to show up here. It was beyond her how he got beyond lobby security. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

"What do you want, Tim?" she shouted through the heavy double doors.

"Hey, babe! I was just at a dinner party in the building. I wanted to drop by to say 'Hi.'"

"Not a good time, Tim." As if there ever was a good time for Tim Burke.

"Oh. Well, sure. Not even a cup of coffee?"

"I don't have any coffee."

"Oh. Right. How come you haven't returned my calls, Audie? I miss you. You know I care for you."

She huffed. She leaned her forehead against the cool, smooth wood and began a light banging at a slow, even tempo.

"What are you doing, Audie?"

"Bashing my head in," she muttered to herself. "Nothing! Look, I've got company, Tim, all right?" She didn't like to lie, but this was an emergency. "Good-bye."

Audie was turning away from the door when she heard him say, "Is Stacey Quinn in there with you?"

"What?"

"He came to see me today. I'll give you a little advice, Audie. The guy's a hothead and a womanizer and nothing but trouble. Watch yourself."

Audie stuck her eye back on the peephole, but Tim Burke was gone.

She shook her head. Obviously, there was no love lost between Quinn and Tim Burke, and she wondered what had happened so long ago. She could just picture them in a playground scuffle, hurling insults and punches at each other, shoving andtearing at each other's little white Catholic school dress shirts.

She was rooting for Quinn.

"Men," she mumbled, heading for her bedroom. She might as well go to bed for the night. That way, when Marjorie asked her on Monday if she was getting enough sleep, she wouldn't have to lie.

"What's your favorite thing to do in the summer, Homey?" Quinn settled back on the varnished oak bench of the sailboat and stretched his arms wide along the edge of the cockpit.

"Take in a Cubs game." Audie threw him a teasing smile from her perch behind the helm. "And this-there just isn't much better than this, Detective."

She turned her face into the wind and closed her eyes, enjoying the peaceful sound of water lapping at the side of the boat, the whisper of air over the sails.

Quinn watched her. He didn't think he'd ever seen her truly relaxed, and his heart opened at the sight of it. He was perfectly content to sit there the entire day, just appreciating her face and the way the breeze tossed around her hair.

He'd never been sailing before, but if it meant hanging out with a beer and looking at Audie, he believed this was a pastime a man could grow to like.

It wasn't a stretch to say that Autumn Adams was the prettiest woman he'd ever known. He liked the way the light hit her out here on the lake, making her skin glow like copper and gold. He stared at the long, smooth, casually outstretched leg and remembered all too well what it felt like to touch each place on that leg-the solid calf muscle, the sharp shinbone, the hard knee, the soft thigh. Holy God. That he wasn't jumping on her this very second, pulling her down onto him and devouring her, was proof of his superhuman will. Sixteen years of Catholic school probably didn't hurt, either.

And Holy God. The idea that Tim Burke may have ever put his hands on her was enough to make him lose his mind. He knew that he'd have to ask more about their relationship, but not right now. Not today. Today, he just wanted to enjoy being in her company again.

Quinn moved his eyes from Audie to the flat blue horizon line of Lake Michigan. He really had been busy last week. But the truth was, he had asked Stan to take care of Audie so he could cool his jets-pure and simple.

After that out-of-control kiss on his deck, Quinn found himself thinking with his dick instead of the perfectly fine brain God gave him, and that wasn't his style. And he was still responsible for Autumn Adams's case, which had to be his priority-at least for the time being.

But when she'd asked him to go for a sail, he'd accepted gladly. And now he wondered how the hell he'd managed to stay away for a total of ten days-ten very long days.

He took a swig of beer, put the can in the convenient beverage holder on this fancy North Shore sailboat-all gleaming wood and polished brass and bronze-and laughed at himself. He was sure this boat was worth more than Da's house in Beverly. He was sure he was a bit out of his element here.

He wondered how long it would be before he ended up at the fucking opera.

"Did you say something?" Audie opened her eyes and smiled at him politely.

"Nope." Those plump lips, wet from a recent slide of her tongue, and that rounded chin, perfect for biting. She looked delicious and juicy and he felt an ache in his groin. Watching this woman did painful things to his chest, too, like his heart was being throttled, like his blood was backing up, like the oxygen couldn't quite make it up to his head.

"I used to sail a lot with my dad when I was a kid," Audie said, running her fingers through her hair and closing her eyes in the wind again. "It was nice to come out here on the water, away from everything, just the two of us."

He actually felt her voice touch his skin. It was warm and smooth and rich and he felt it fall over him, wrap around him in the breeze. It was the weirdest damn thing.

The satiny curve of her throat… had he gotten a chance to taste her there yet? It was all a blur. He couldn't remember if he'd yet run the tip of his tongue up her throat, and it bugged the hell out of him.

"Dear God," he muttered to himself.

"What?"

Quinn shook his head and tried to pick up the threads of the conversation-there had been words exchanged, hadn't there?

"Did your mother ever come out on the boat?"

"No. She didn't care for the lake all that much."

"Did she care for your father all that much?"

Audie's head snapped around and she stared at him in disbelief. "What kind of question is that?"

Quinn winced, annoyed with himself. He didn't want to piss her off already-they'd only been out here a few minutes and he wanted to stare at her for several more hours at least.

"I just saw some of your pictures, that's all. They didn't look too thrilled to be together."

Audie shrugged. "I guess they tolerated each other, like with any marriage. My dad was not a very demanding person, so he kind of let Helen rule the roost and did his own thing. He wasn't home all that much."

"What did he do at the Mercantile Exchange?"

"He traded in the pits for many years, then became a broker. Made a ton of money."

"Did he have affairs, Audie?"

She went very still and stared at him. He appeared perfectly innocent sitting there with one leg propped up on a knee, his arms draped across the back of the bench-but his eyes were insistent, intense.

She blinked at him in astonishment. "You know, it amazes me how rude you can be."

"I don't mean to be rude. I'm just trying to figure something out, is all."

Audie snorted. "What in the world would my father's indiscretions have to do with the letters I'm getting? You think one of his old lovers is sending them? That's a bit out there, don't you think?"

He cocked his head and examined her face for a quiet moment, aware that she was uncomfortable. There was no way around it. "So he did have affairs, then?"

Audie closed her eyes briefly and sighed. "I don't know for sure, Quinn. There was just something wrong. That I know."

"Wrong? What do you mean?" He leaned forward, elbows on knees.

Audie was rapidly becoming annoyed by this line of questioning and groaned. "Look, from what you've told me about your family, I don't think you'd understand even if I tried to explain it, so forget it."