"Are you OK?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not hurt or anything?"

He laughed, letting his head fall back as his eyes swept over her from top to bottom. "Men aren't physically injured when we can't complete the act, you know. It's just something we tell women."

Audie put her hands on her hips. "I know. Like 'Size doesn't matter.'"

He chuckled. "Kind of like that."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Why are you being so nice about this, Quinn? If I were you, I'd be calling me names right now."

Quinn sat up and put his elbows on his knees, staring at her. "Now why in the world would I do that, Homey?" A grin appeared on his stricken face and Audie's heart melted. "See, I want to get in your pants-and stay there-in the worst possible way, so how would name-calling accomplish that?"

She could see his logic.

"I'll put up with a bit more torture if I have to. I've already decided you're worth the wait." The grin spread wider. "I'll just think of tonight as an appetizer-a nice juicy appetizer at a restaurant with real slow service."

She laughed. "I'm pretty tortured myself," she said, smiling down at him, acutely aware of the truth of that statement. She was wet, trembling, and aching inside for him to fill her, but despite all that, he'd just made her laugh! How did he do that? Did he have any idea what a lethal combination that was for her?

"Everything you need should be in the guest room, Quinn."

"Not quite everything."

"I'll see you in the morning, Detective." She wanted desperately to kiss him good night but remembered the good-night kiss on his deck and knew they'd be right back where they started. With a sigh, she headed down the hallway.

"Hey, Homey?" He saw her spin around.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question?" He peered around the end of the couch.

Audie laughed outright. "Quinn, at this point I think you can ask me anything, so stop asking if you can ask me and just ask me."

"Great." He smiled broadly. "I was wondering if you'd come see our pipe band play at CityFest next week, since you're going to be staying in town now."

Audie had to giggle at how cute he looked, peeking at her, obviously wanting her to say yes.

"Sure. I'd be delighted. Kilts and all, Stacey?"

"Kilts and all, Homey."

An hour later, Audie was still wide awake, trying to sort out why she'd just run away from what had promised to be outstanding sex.

Did she want a guarantee of some sort?

No, she wasn't stupid. There was no such thing as a guarantee.

Did she need to know him better?

No, not really. She knew he had a kind heart and respected her wishes, no matter how crazy they made him. She knew the things he'd told her that night took a lot of courage. Stacey Quinn was a good man.

Did she trust him?

Yes, she trusted him.

Did she trust herself?

Bingo-that was the issue right there. It was a foregone conclusion that they wouldn't last long. Nothing ever did.

It was just a matter of time before he'd want too much from her, before he'd expect something she couldn't give.

It was only a matter of time before she hurt him, and she really didn't want to hurt Stacey Quinn.

She liked him too much.

On the dock the other night, she told him she sucked at relationships, and it was the truth. She was giving him a chance to step away. But he didn't. He pulled her closer instead.

Why did he do that?

"I don't know the first thing about love," she whispered in the dark. "You should have listened to me, Quinn!"

She flipped over on her stomach and groaned with frustration, because that's exactly what she was dealing with here-love-whether she wanted it or not. For the first time in her life, she was thinking of possibly, maybe, trying to love a man, not just have a sexual relationship with him.

And that was what scared her about Quinn.

At the same time, Quinn was lying awake in Audie's chic gray-and-white guest room, staring out from the platform bed to the dark windows and the darker sky, wondering just how much longer she'd make him wait. His body hurt. He still tasted her. Everything from the waist down was throbbing and hard and ready.

Above his waist, in the region of his heart, there was another sensation entirely-a warm one, one that made him smile, one that made him feel like something was locking into place. It felt like that night by the boathouse, when he opened his arms to Audie and she stepped inside.

Quinn knew he had a tendency to set the bar pretty high for himself-personally and professionally. And he knew he'd always had a clear idea in his head about what love would feel like when it came into his life.

He wanted what his parents had and he decided early on that he'd settle for nothing less. He wanted the kind of love that was beautiful and resilient and funny. He wanted passionate love. He wanted love that would challenge him, complete him, make him a better man.

So why was he suddenly wondering if he'd found that in Autumn Adams, a rich, WASPy Cubs fan in the middle of a vocational crisis? A woman who decorated her apartment in the Neo-Landfill style?

It was so outrageous that he almost laughed out loud.

Just then he heard her outside the bedroom door. He closed his eyes and lay still, his heart hammering, wondering what was going to happen next. Would she dive into this bed with him, already naked? Would she drag him into her bed, ripping off his clothes on the way?

Nothing happened. And Quinn waited.

Audie leaned up against the doorjamb and stared at him in the dim light. His holstered gun rested on the nightstand by his head. His face looked lean and smooth and strong in the shadows, his mouth pulled into a straight line in sleep. He had such beautiful bones at his brow, around his eyes-and she wanted to touch him there, touch that sweetness she saw in him.

His mouth began to twitch into a smile-a dream, she thought-and she saw the little boy in him again. She shook her head in surprise. All the way back to her room she thought to herself, Stacey Quinn has taken me by surprise.

Later, when Quinn was satisfied she was asleep, he slipped into his holster and tiptoed across the football field of an apartment. He nearly broke his leg on the running shoes strewn in the middle of the hall, then stopped in front of her closed bedroom door.

He listened carefully, opened it without making a sound, and looked down at her.

She lay halfway on her stomach, the covers all twisted up and thrown off,which made complete sense to him. He remembered all the nervous energy he saw in her that first day. Of course she'd be the kind to toss and turn all night, but he'd find a way to live with that.

He smiled down at her. He'd pictured her in leopard skin, hadn't he? Well, here she was, wearing one of Griffin 's old soccer jerseys, the name "Nash" in bold white letters across the back over a big number ten.

He saw a sliver of white panties where the shirt rose up over her bottom, the same little cotton things she'd worn earlier. No leopard skin there, either.

Quinn admired the long line of leg tucked up chastely in sleep, her thick wavy hair tousled out behind her head. She was so sexy and vulnerable that he had to hold his breath to suppress a sigh of contentment.

Damn, he wanted this woman. He wanted everything she could possibly give. And he startled himself with this next thought: Could Autumn Adams ever love him?

Eventually, he closed the door and leaned against the wall just outside, sinking down into a heap in the hallway. He let his head fall back, knowing there was a silly grin plastered on his face, and fell asleep.