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

His hands were busy doing up his trousers, but he glanced at me over his shoulder. “This?”


Was I out of my fucking mind? “Forget about it; it was just the champagne talking.”


For a second I thought he looked disappointed, but that damned spook smile distracted me.


“I never kid about something like this, Mark. Next time I’d like to do it when we haven’t polished off a bottle of champagne. And don’t tell me that’s the only way you can get it up for me, because we both know otherwise. Now, where are my shoes?”


I flushed, remembering just how easily I had gotten it up for him. No, I wasn’t going to think about that now. “Your shoes? Uh…you took them off in the living room.”


“That’s right, and then you told me why you have the statue of a dog standing in the corner.”


I had? I thought I’d just told him a dumb tall tale. I followed him down the hallway. “You want a glass of water before you go? Might help with your hangover tomorrow morning.”


Chapter 82