Quinton Mann is CIA through and through. Mark Vincent is WBIS for life. There is no way they could end up as anything other than adversaries -- and yet, Quinn takes Mark out to dinner on his birthday -- the one no one is supposed to know about -- and gives him one hell of a present in the restaurant's restroom. Mark, not to be outdone, has decided to escalate this game, because it has to be a game, right? There's no way it can be anything else.<br><br>But as the game continues, as Quinn shows up to a WBIS funeral, as a friend of Mark’s penetrates the CIA computer network to get information on Quinn, as Mark breaks into Quinn's house and gives Quinn a very interesting encounter, both Quinn and Mark realize that this is becoming the most real thing in their lives.<br><br>Can they find a way to do their jobs and keep this surprising, intriguing connection?

Houseboat on the Nile

“Kane.” It wasn’t, but then Flint wasn’t my last name, either.


The woman with him cleared her throat pointedly.


“And this is my friend, Susan Burkhart.”


She frowned at Mann. “Really, Quinton, aren’t I more than a friend?” She gave me her hand. It was so limp I almost expected to smell fish.


“Mr. Mann, it’s a pleasure to see you, sir.” Granger’s date provided a welcome diversion. He was falling all over himself to get Mann to notice him. He grabbed Mann’s hand and pumped it, and I couldn’t help grinning.


Mann saw, and he raised his eyebrow. Damn, I was making him too curious.


I made the grin broader and swayed a bit. “Oops. ‘Scuse me, gen’lemen. Ladies.” I nodded to Granger and the Burkhart woman, who held onto Mann’s arm with a death grip. Mann deserved better than her. “Gonna get a drink. Hap—” I hiccupped. “Happy New Year.”


Chapter 5