A "what if" tale set in the Spy vs. Spook/Mann of My Dreams universe!
Kyle Winchester is a genius when it comes to foreign languages. He has no trouble learning them and often picks up dialects simply for fun. This makes him an ideal candidate for certain agencies in the intelligence community, most notably the CIA and the WBIS. While these two agencies fight it out between them, all an unknowing Kyle wants to do is discover more about the mysterious Frenchman he met while in New York -- and possibly fall in love with him.
Alain Boucher, a championship-level card player, discovers playing cards with the wrong man could get him imprisoned and deported. As a result, he’s pressured into doing the occasional job for the CIA. One of these jobs is to convince -- by any means -- a certain young man that becoming a member of the CIA is exactly what his future should hold. The problem is Alain has come to like Kyle, and he isn’t so certain what the CIA wants is what’s best for the young man. However, events beyond his control see Kyle agreeing to work for the Company.
The reality of his new job isn’t as rosy as Kyle was promised, but when a covert operative is outed, leaving her assets to fend for themselves, Kyle has to make a decision: stay with an organization that seems to have no regard for its people, or resign. Things become even more complicated when he’s offered a position at the WBIS by the enigmatic Mark Vincent. Kyle has to wonder ... should he accept this job? And if he does, how will that affect his relationship with Alain, the man who’d set out to woo him for ulterior motives but then wound up falling in love with him?
Alain had observed the young man as he approached the front desk. The photograph he’d been given didn’t do him justice. When he removed his ski cap, his hair was revealed to be a rich mahogany. He removed aviator sunglasses, and tucked them away in a pocket, and his eyes -- oh mon Dieu. They were a violet that would rival Elizabeth Taylor’s. It was a shame they were so sad.
What in the world was Agent Cooper -- DB Cooper, not the so delectable Syd Cooper -- up to? Other than his attractive looks, what was so special about this Kyle Winchester? Alain wished he’d been given more information about the young man.
Alain had deliberately bumped into him, and the young man had apologized to him. And when Alain had muttered something not in the least polite in French, the young man had answered ... in flawless French ... without seeming to give it a single thought.
That had shed a bit of light on the situation, and at least this wasn’t going to be a waste of time.
Alain was a world class gin rummy player, although he kept that on the down low, since that was the major way he made his living -- fleecing the chumps. Unfortunately, he’d crossed paths with once such chump who happened to be Director of Counterintelligence Threat Analysis. Edward Holmes hadn’t been thrilled Alain had taken so much of his money and had threatened him with prison time, even though he was strictly legitimate and never cheated. As a result, Alain did the occasional job for the CIA, seducing people the Company wanted to have their claws in -- male or female was immaterial.
And it seemed the CIA was willing to do just about anything to have this Kyle Winchester working for them.
Why the devil couldn’t they simply make him an offer he couldn’t refuse, or throw out feelers like most other companies did?
Alain swore under his breath. He’d do the job he’d been assigned, but Winchester had gone up to his room, and what was Alain supposed to do in the meanwhile? Normally, he’d spend the rest of the afternoon playing gin rummy, but since his club was closed for Christmas Day, and since he didn’t watch television, he had no choice but to spend the hours until dinner in the reading room.
He went in, found a book on champion gin rummy players -- the hotel owners kept it just for him -- and took a seat near the bay window, where the afternoon sunlight poured in.
* * * *
Alain had the feeling someone was observing him, and he looked up into those amazing violet eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Kyle Winchester said in French. “I don’t mean to disturb you.”
“I’m not disturbed by you in the least,” Alain said in English. He wasn’t happy about this assignment -- it had been a long time since he’d made love to a member of his own sex, and he resented being coerced into it.
“Sorry.” Young Winchester blushed, and Alain abruptly found himself attracted as he hadn’t been in ages. He opened his mouth to say something ... anything ... but Winchester had already turned to the nearest bookcase and began perusing the contents of its shelves.
Very smart, Boucher. Well, he had a well-earned reputation for being an excellent lover. He’d charm the young man over dinner, and by the end of the night, Kyle Winchester would be like putty in his hands.
He tried to resume reading, but he found himself distracted by the young man in the armchair at the far corner of the room. Alain peeked up from time to time in an attempt to catch the young man watching him, but he appeared enthralled by his book and didn’t pay an ounce of attention to him.
Alain bit back a smile. No one could be that fascinated by a book when Alain Boucher was in the vicinity. No doubt young Winchester’s nose was out of joint, and he was trying to punish Alain for not falling all over himself to attract him.
Finally, a glance at his watch let him know the restaurant had opened for dinner. He closed his book, set it aside, and rose gracefully to his feet. He crossed the room to stand before Kyle Winchester.
“Yes, m’sieur? Was I reading too loud?”
Ah. The young man had a sting in his tail. “It’s after six PM, M. Winchester. The restaurant has opened. Would you care to join me for dinner?”
Winchester smiled, and Alain suddenly felt breathless. “I’d like that, thank you.”
