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

Mann hadn’t told me where Raphael’s was, and I wasn’t familiar with it, but before I left for my last meeting, I would know everything about the restaurant, down to how much the owner had left on the mortgage and if he’d had to grease someone’s palm to get his liquor license.


I shoved the unexpected invitation—and the fact that he’d called me Mark—from my mind; I had work to do, after all.


I thumbed the intercom. “Ms. Parker, get me a cup of coffee, please?” I pulled up the senator’s file.


It was a quarter past eight when I arrived at the classy Italian restaurant. I knew Mann wouldn’t want to be kept waiting, but I’d decided to make him wait anyway. That was how we played the game in the WBIS—always keep ‘em guessing.


And if it was rude, so fucking what? It led to dumb mistakes on their part.


Chapter 11