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

The back of Mark’s shirt darkened with sweat as well.


“We’ve got small palms, too.” Since he was a little ahead of me, he didn’t see my pleased smile. Did he realize he was referring to the both of us? “They’ll supply us hearts of palms.” He continued pointing out other sources of food. “There are some plantain trees also. They’re good, but they need to be baked or fried. And about a hundred yards behind the house there’s a spring. The water is warm, but I had it tested, and it’s safe to drink in a pinch. And here we are.”


In a clearing just beyond was a stone cottage. A veranda stretched across the front of it, and barrel tiles covered the roof.


He didn’t respond to that, but there was a hint of pride in his grin. “Manuel and his old man keep the area around it free of undergrowth. They know enough not to go into the house.”


“Hmm. I assume you’ve got it wired to blow?”


Chapter 101