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

“Are you happy with him, Quinn?” Bryan asked.


“He was happy with that French kid until he broke his heart,” Gregor sniped.


“Did you ever finish that koi pond, Bryan?” Ludo asked, deliberately changing the subject. I was grateful. I was beginning to realize more and more how foolish my assumption had been all those years ago. “Jefferson is planning on having one put in for me.”


“That was supposed to be a birthday surprise.”


We all laughed at Jeff’s affronted exclamation.


“As a matter of fact…,” Uncle Bryan began.


In a matter of minutes it would be midnight and the start of 2003.


There was little left on the buffet. The television had been tuned to Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve.


I was sitting beside my mother on the large comfortable couch while Mark lounged at her other side.


Chapter 117