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

On the appointed date and time, I arrived in Great Falls and rang the doorbell. Novotny answered the door, checked my ID, and then led me toward the back of the house.


“Mrs. Mann is waiting in the sitting room.”


I was tempted to say, “Groovy.” but of course I didn’t.


“Mrs. Mann, Quinton’s friend, Harriman Patterson.”


It took me a second to remember that was Patterson’s name. I was tempted to ask her to call me Skip, even though that was almost as bad. I murmured something innocuous in return, all the while studying her surreptitiously.


She was a little woman, about five foot four—well, compared to my six foot three that was little—and she was wearing a tweed skirt suit of soft pinks, blues, and grays. Around her neck was a silk scarf that emphasized the color of her eyes, making them deeper and bluer than any I’d ever seen.


“I’m sorry,” she murmured when she saw my camera. “I don’t permit pictures of my home.”


Chapter 44