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

“Aren’t you, DB?” I couldn’t help laughing.


“I want to thank you for the Super Bowl tickets.” He was serious now. “That’s more than I ever expected. The Raiders are my favorite team, and those seats are awesome! It’s gonna be so amazing to actually be in San Diego and watch them beat the Bucs. You’re the best friend, Quinn.”


I’d actually gotten the idea from Mark, who’d mentioned he was getting basketball tickets to a Lakers/Kings game on January 16 for a couple of friends for Christmas. DB wasn’t a big basketball fan, but he loved football.


“I…uh…I hope you liked my gift,” he was saying. “Mrs. Mann told me that saddle was what you’d asked Santa for.”


Mark had been curious about the big box with the holly and ivy wrapping paper, and he’d scowled when I told him it was from DB. His expression had lightened when I’d added, “…and ladies,” but he pretended interest in the tree we were about to put up. I’d never had anyone green-eyed over me, and I found it…gratifying.


Chapter 107