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

“Oh, my God, there’s more of them. Nurse. Nurse. Mama.”


“Huh?” Sweetcheeks looked startled.


Matheson yanked open his suit jacket, reached for his gun, and looked to me. “Sir?”


“Paul.” Spike hurried to Pretty Boy’s side. “Are you okay?”


Terri wheeled in a wheelchair. “Let’s go for a ride, Mr. Barnes.” She helped him into the chair. “Sorry,” she mouthed at me, then she walked him out of there.


“I won’t stay in that room. Do you have any idea who I am? My senator will hear about this. I won’t be….” His voice faded as Terri got him further away.


“Okay, pay attention. I’ve got to go; tomorrow is a work day. Pretty Boy just had some choice drugs, and he’s about out of it.” I ran a hand through my hair. It had been a long day, and…. “Do you two need a lift?”


Sweetcheeks glanced at Matheson, who licked his lips and flushed but didn’t look away. “We’re good, Vince.”


“Don’t keep him up too late. Matheson, I won’t be in until after the autopsy—”


Chapter 117