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

“Jesus, it was before my father left that last time, so I must have been—” I stopped laughing and snatched my hand back. What the fuck was I doing? This was a fucking CIA spook on my couch, not a date. I lurched to my feet, and Mann didn’t try to stop me this time. “I want you to leave now, Mann.”


He was on his feet as well, his face so close to mine I could count individual eyelashes. “You may want a lot of things, Vincent, but me leaving isn’t one of them.” His fingers feathered over my ears, tracing the sworls and curves. His eyes grazed over my face.


“No, it isn’t,” I snapped, the effects of the champagne fizzing wildly through my veins. My hands buried in his hair, I held his head still and rubbed my lips against his roughly. He opened with a groan.


Chapter 80