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

He reached over and squeezed my thigh. “I’m a big boy. I can handle Holmes.” He changed the subject. “Tell me about the suite you reserved for us at Taylor House.”


“Big bed, big bathroom…. Hurricane season hasn’t ended, so it shouldn’t be too crowded.”


“Nah, the seven-day forecast is for really good weather.”


I turned my head to grin at him. “Always.”


The rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers was a soft counterpoint to our conversation.


We were about five blocks from my place, sitting at a traffic light, when Quinn’s cell phone rang. He studied the screen in the light of the dashboard and smiled.


“Hello, Mother.”…“We’re almost at Mark’s.”…“How’s traffic on your end?”…“That bad? I’m sorry to hear that.”


Chapter 57