Mark Vincent has risen from senior special agent to Director of Interior Affairs in the WBIS. Lately, life has been sweet for him -- in addition to his promotion, he's found a partner in Quinton Mann, who can almost match his ability in the intelligence field, in spite of the fact Quinn's CIA. Mark has also found a condo in Alexandria with the help of Portia Mann, Quinn's mother, and it's closer to Quinn's town house than Mark's present apartment. Sweetest of all, Mark plans to take Quinn to his island in the Caribbean for the holidays.<br><br>Quinn's glad he has the holiday with Mark to look forward to -- something is going on at Langley, and he feels he's being kept out of the loop. To make matters even worse, useless missions and sleepless nights filled with nightmares are leaving him exhausted. But then his mother's life if threatened, and Quinn discovers the accident that resulted in her hospitalization was no accident. The obsessively self-absorbed Senator Wexler is involved, and while Quinn considers himself a civilized man, now he's out for blood.<br><br>Up until this point, Mark has stayed out of Quinn's CIA business. But hurting Quinn and those he loves isn't a smart move, and Mark has every intention of seeing Wexler pays. Quinn demands to come along, and while Mark isn't happy, he finally agrees, and they set out together to deal with the senator. There's just one catch: this will be the first time Quinn sees Mark at his deadly best, and Mark isn't sure how his lover will react.

Forever

I grinned at him. “How about we go today? We could drive over to Rockville this afternoon, and you could help me pick it all out.” Theo shouldn’t mind. He had Matheson to keep him busy. “And a new rug too. I hate this rug.”


He laughed softly. “I can’t imagine what Ms. Carson was thinking when she chose it.”


“It was probably someone else’s idea.”


I glanced at my watch. “We’d better get going now.”


“Thanks for showing me around, babe.”


I stole a quick kiss. “It’ll look better in a few weeks.”


I tripped the lock and shut the door behind us, and we left.


Mrs. Mann was waiting for us as we strode up to the stable. She was already mounted on the horse she’d ridden the last time I’d allowed my lover to torture me like this. Her eyes studied her son sharply, but she said nothing beyond, “I’m glad you felt rested enough to go riding today, Quinton.”


Chapter 48