She glanced at him slyly, at the defined muscles in his neck and shoulders under the thin T-shirt, the finely shaped arms and hands. It dawned on her suddenly that she'd not taken anyone on the boat with her in nearly eight years-not since Griffin. She had to look away.

"We haven't talked about what happened at my house that night." Quinn waited patiently until she turned back to him.

"That's because you've avoided me since then."

Quinn pursed his lips. "Not entirely true, and I meant we haven't talked about it yet today."

"I'm trying to pretend it didn't happen," she mumbled.

Quinn drummed his fingers along his beer can. "How's that working out for you?"

"Ha!" Audie glared at him. "It's not."

"Me, either."

She studied Quinn more directly, not caring if he caught her. She was allowed to look at how the wind tickled his sun-streaked hair. She could look at his wide, straight mouth and the keen eyes-it was her boat, after all, her brother's boat at any rate.

And the longer she looked, the more pronounced the pulling inside her became, an opening up that was unfamiliar but not completely unpleasant.

"I need some time," she said suddenly. Audie hadn't really planned on saying anything at all-let alone that-and her words surprised her.

"It's your call," was all Quinn said.

He continued to look at her, all crooked grin and dancing eyes, and Audie let go with a huge smile. She hadn't realized she was holding it in, and it was a relief to smile at him the way she needed to.

"I really do like you a lot, Quinn. It's the weirdest damn thing."

"I like you, too," he said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, as if hiding his smile. He shook his head. "We make an interesting couple, that's for sure."

They sailed for several hours, down to Hyde Park, where they anchored for lunch, and back to the North Shore. She taught Quinn the basics of sailing-how to read the wind, how to set the sails and determine right-of-way-and she let him take the wheel for most of the way back north. Then she sat back and watched him for a long period of comfortable silence.

Quinn was a quick study, and he was calm and steady behind the wheel. Despite the sunblock she'd seen him slather on at least three times during the day, he was slightly sunburned across his nose and cheeks, and his eyes sparkled in contrast to the rosy skin.

He cut a fine figure at the helm of the Take a Hint, broad shoulders held straight, the clean line of his nose, his trim legs covered in light brown man-fuzz.

She was thinking that Quinn had put his hands all over her legs, but she'd yet to do the same to him. Then she reminded herself of the truth-she wasn't quite ready for Quinn.

In silence, she once again thanked Rocky Datillio for his perfect timing.

"Hey, Audie. Can I ask you a question? It might sound strange."

She laughed. "You've been asking me strange questions since we left the dock, Detective."

"Yeah? Well, this one's personal."

"They've all been personal."

"I mean about you."

"Sure, Stacey. Go for it." Audie saw an expectant look in Quinn's eye and then watched as he hesitated-something she'd never seen him do. What in the world did he want to know? Whatever it was, it must be very important to him.

"My question is what do you like to do in the winter in Chicago -say, February, typical Sunday afternoon sort of thing?"

That was the big personal question? She was thinking underwear preference or prescription medications or maybe religion again.

But the man looked downright nervous about her answer, and Audie narrowed her eyes at him for a long moment. He was obviously up to no good.

"Winters can be rough, Quinn. You want to know what I'd consider my perfect afternoon?"

He reached down for his beer and took a long draw, nodding.

Audie locked her eyes on his. "I enjoy having wild, sweaty sex on the floor and then popping out to a sports bar for a Guinness."

Quinn violently spewed his beer onto the boat deck and began coughing. Out of pity, she stood up and patted him-smacked him, really-between the shoulder blades.

"Did I pass, Quinn?"

"You could kill a man talking like that," he croaked, his eyes huge. "At least give me a warning next time, would you?"

"A warning? You mean when I'm about to mention sweaty sex? Or beer and sports bars?"

He thumped his chest. "How about 'em all, just to be safe?"

She laughed at the sight of him, standing there in shock. It was quite satisfying, really. She sat back down, crossed her legs, and smiled at him.

"And how about you, Detective? What do you like to do in the winter?"

The corner of Quinn's mouth twitched as he squinted into the sun, studying her with appreciation. "Well, if we could find time for some barbecue ribs in there somewhere, that would pretty much fill my dance card."

She laughed with him, trying her best not to imagine having wild, sweaty sex with Stacey Quinn on the floor-or anywhere, for that matter. Lord, the man bothered her, and she had to shut her eyes against the memory of him stretched out beneath her on the deck, his hands moving hot and demanding up her dress. She sighed and turned her face up to the setting sun.

"I bet I know what you were thinking right then, Audie."

Her eyes flew open at the soft sound of his voice, and she stared at him, caught red-handed.

"You know, we are grown-ups-we can talk about this. I'm actually pretty uninhibited for an Irish Catholic boy, so it wouldn't embarrass me."

Audie felt the blush spread like fire up her throat and across her cheeks. "Talk about wh-what?"

"About the attraction," Quinn said matter-of-factly. "What's happening between us. All the kissing. All the imagining."

She glared at him and crossed her arms over her breasts. Kidding around was one thing, but she didn't like the serious tone of his voice. "We'd better head back," she said, all business.

"Someday, Audie, when you're ready, I plan on making love to you. I'm real interested in finishing what we've started."

She swallowed, blinked at him, and clutched herself tighter.

"In the meantime, I'd like to know what you like best, what feels good to you, so that I can be prepared."

"What?" She stared at him, feeling a shudder move through her.

Quinn's hands were on the wheel, but his body was turned toward her, his green eyes locked on hers, and there wasn't a trace of smugness in his face.

"The moment I laid eyes on you, I started imagining what it would be like to have you in my bed. I'd like to know what it takes to make you crazy, Audie, get you wild, send you over the top. I just need a few details for the next time I find myself fantasizing about you-which would be right now, actually."

"God, Quinn. Please!" It seemed the man got downright talkative when it came to two subjects-his family and sex.

"It's just that right now I'm not quite sure about you, Homey. I get a feeling you want something you don't know how to ask for."

"What the hell are you talking about?" She twisted away from him, looking out over the water. She felt trapped on this boat, trapped in his stare.

"Iget the feeling you're sexually frustrated."

"What!?" She stomped her foot down on the oak floor timbers and glared at him.

"Maybe you just haven't had the right lover, Audie."

She was dumbfounded, and for several long moments her mouth hung open. He stood there perfectly somber, looking down at her with those piercing olive eyes, not a hint of sarcasm on his fine lips. She felt her breath come much too fast for someone not doing wind sprints.

"I can wait, Audie. You asked for time, and I'll give you as much time as you need. Then… " Quinn shrugged and the grin reappeared. "Watch out, Presbyterian girl."