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

“Dilaudid,” she explained as she wiped a patch of skin with an alcohol swab and injected him with the pain medication.


“Ow. Vince.” Pretty Boy shifted uncomfortably.


“Don’t be such a baby. That didn’t hurt.”


“Easy for you to say. It wasn’t your ass she jabbed with that knitting needle.”


The nurse chuckled and smoothed the johnny gown back in place, then went to drop the syringe into a red container that was mounted on the wall.


“There are a couple of friends who’ll want to see him,” I told her as she raised the bed rails, “but I promise we’ll all be gone before you know it.”


“Not too long, remember. Now, here’s the call bell. Just press it if you need anything.” She left.


Pretty Boy tried to find a position that wasn’t uncomfortable. “Fuck. Now everything hurts. My ass, my ribs, my head. Oh, yeah, laugh it up, fuzzy.”


“Sorry, baby. I’m just glad you’re alive to piss and moan.”


“Where’s Spike? He was here before. Did he have to go on a job?”


Chapter 116