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

“If the person you take to bed knows what he’s doing.” Then, yeah, it was probably good. Problem was, you needed to be able to trust that person. Well, I needed to be able to trust that person, and there just hadn’t been any.


“Oh no, don’t say when I meet the right man.”


He chuckled and dropped a kiss on my shoulder. “All right. I won’t.”


Afterward, I actually slipped into a light doze, waking when the bed dipped. Pretty Boy pulled on the sweats he’d worn earlier and tiptoed out of the room.


I got out of his bed, realizing I felt, if not better, at least not as borderline as I had, and I found my clothes and quickly dressed.


“Intense, Sweets.” Pretty Boy was saying, a soft, dreamy quality to his voice.


“How could you let him mark you like that?” Sweetcheeks sounded worried. “You realize you won’t be able to work until all these marks are gone?”


There were hickeys, bruises, and scratch-marks all over him. Dammit. I was usually more careful of my partners than that.


Chapter 66