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

Quinn hung up his overcoat in a closet by his front door and extended his hand for mine.


I stared at him for a minute, then handed it to him and turned quickly away so I wouldn’t reveal how that simple action had gotten to me. Had he felt the same way when I’d held his coat for him to put on the other night? The night he’d brought me champagne to celebrate my promotion, and we had wound up ma—fucking on my bed?


“I…I think I’ll make an early night of it, Quinn.”


“Tomorrow is Saturday, Mark. I assume even WBIS agents get the weekend off on occasion.”


I gave him a look. Maybe that’s how they did it in the CIA, but we were always on call.


“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Well, I grabbed something at the reception.” He looked disappointed. “The food sucked.”


“It’s a shame you weren’t at the affair the Company threw for New Year’s Eve. The food was amazing.” For a second he looked wistful. Was he thinking of Kane Flint? Dammit.


Chapter 132