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

After swallowing a couple of aspirin, I felt better than I usually did after a transatlantic flight. I wrapped a towel around my hips and studied my face in the mirror dispassionately. I actually looked rested. Getting blown by Vincent was better than any sleep aid I’d ever used, on those rare occasions when I’d had to fall back on them.


The spot where he had injected me was a little red, and I ran my fingertips over it. By tomorrow morning it would be barely noticeable, if not completely gone.


Maid service would be in tomorrow afternoon, and not only did they see to the housekeeping, but they also sent out the laundry. Since I used tissues when I jerked off, which I then flushed down the toilet, the handkerchief Vincent had left behind might give rise to questions even if they were unvoiced. I rinsed it out and draped it over the heated towel bar. Once it was dry, I’d toss it in the hamper.


Chapter 57