Read Endgame (Last Chance Series) Online
Authors: Dee Davis
Endgame (Last Chance Series)
Critics Hail Dee Davis
as a Master of Romantic Suspense!
Advance praise for
Endgame
"Dee Davis is at the top of her game in this clever
and quick-paced ride over dangerous ground. With a
hot love story and a cold-hearted villain,
Endgame
is romantic
intrigue at its best Davis never disappoints."
—Mariah Stewart bestselling author of Dead Wrong
Dancing in the Dark
"
Top-notch suspense. This story of extreme loss, treachery,
and danger also adds up to great romance."
—
Romantic Times
(4 stars)
"
Dancing in the Dark
is a definite page-turner;
and a story you'll want to finish in one sitting."
—
Romance Reviews Today
"Fast-paced and intriguing,
Dancing in the Dark
shouldn't be missed."
—
The Romance Readers Connection
Midnight Rain
"Engaging characters and lots of plot twists
make for a spine-tingling romance."
—
Booklist
"Taut suspense, wicked humor; powerful romance—
Midnight Rain
has it all."
—Christina Skye, nationally bestselling author
of
Code Name: Nanny
"Top-notch romantic suspense."
—
Romantic Times
(4 stars)
Dark of the Night
"A highly entertaining read, both as a mystery
and a love story, which embraces
all the components that a reader could want
."
—
Rendezvous
"Full of suspense and intrigue...
blackmail, murder and a storyline that takes great
unexpected twists will keep you at the edge of your seat!"
—
Old book Barn Gazette
"Intrigue, deception and murder make Dark of the Night
a great way to spend your entertainment hours."
—
Romantic Times
(4 stars)
"A compelling, thoroughly entertaining tale of romantic
suspense. Fans of the genre should add Dee Davis to their
list of 'don't miss' authors."
—
AOL Romance Fiction Forum
Just Breathe
"A wonderful, not-to-miss, stay-up-late read."
—
Philadelphia Inquirer
"
Ally McBeal meets Mission: Impossible...."
—
Publishers Weekly
"A book that successfully merges the elements of a spy novel
and a romance comes around once in a blue moon.... I look
forward to the next Dee Davis novel with excitement."
—
Bookaholics
"Ms. Davis uses a deft hand in molding her characters..."
—
Under the Covers
After Twilight
"Dee Davis has crafted a compelling story that deftly
combines suspense and romance, offering the best of both.
I'm adding her name to my must-read list
."
—
New York Times
bestselling author Kay Hooper
"Perfect pulse-pounding reading for a cold winter's night."
—
Romantic Times
(Top Pick)
"An exciting romance thriller ...
not to be missed
"
—
Huntress Reviews
Endgame
Dee Davis
Endgame
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
Published by Pocito Press.
Copyright
2005 by Dee Davis Oberwetter
All rights reserved.
Originally published as a mass market paperback in the United States by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Cover design: Frauke Spanuth, Croco Design
http://www.deedavis.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please delete it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Romantic Suspense
Dark Of The Night
Dancing In The Dark
Midnight Rain
Just Breathe
After Twilight
Eye Of The Storm
Chain Reaction
Still of the Night (Novella)
Last Chance Series:
Endgame
Enigma
Exposure
A-Tac Series:
Dark Deceptions
Dangerous Desires
Desperate Deeds
Daring (N
ovella)
Deep Disclosure
Deadly Dance
Double Danger
Women’s Fiction
A Match Made on Madison
Setup In Soho
Time Travels
Everything In Its Time
The Promise
Wild Highland Rose
Anthologies
Hell with the Ladies (Marcus)
Hell on Heels (Jezebel)
In loving memory of my father
Victory goes to the player who makes the next-to-last mistake.
—Savielly Grigorievitch Tartakower (1887-1956)
New York City
BINGHAM SMITH WAS LATE. Which wasn't all that unusual, but given the fact that his driver hadn't shown up, and that he was due to close a deal in less than an hour, it held the potential for disaster.
Cursing softly under his breath, he closed his umbrella, eyed the surging crowd and stepped onto the staircase leading into the bowels of the city. Subways disgusted him. Humanity pressed together, pushing and shoving, all decorum lost
.
But he was pragmatic if nothing else, and given the downpour, there was no chance of catching a taxi, so the subway it was. An older, balding man stumbled against him,
the spoke of an umbrella jabbing forcefully into Bing's side, the pain oddly localized, sharper than he would have expected.
With a curt nod, the man disappeared, swallowed by the crowd, and Bing turned the corner, stepping out onto the train's platform. An empty platform. It seemed he couldn't catch a break.
Turning his wrist, he consulted the face of his Piaget, and immediately wished he hadn't.
A quarter of an hour wasted and no train. He debated making his way back to the stairs, and the relative sanctity of the street, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. Best to wait.
Nothing ever came from overreacting, and besides, his head was beginning to ache and the prospect of climbing stairs did not appeal. The people on the platform surged forward as a unit, a sure sign the train was coming.
Bing tightened his hand on his briefcase, and blinked as the lights seemed to brighten and then dim, a wave of dizziness making him stumble. Sucking in a breath, he let the crowd move him forward, fighting for composure, a dull ache radiating through his chest cavity and along his arm.
He ruthlessly pushed the thought of pain aside, twisting past a tweed-clad grandmother so that he stood poised on the yellow line just as the rumble of the oncoming train became audible. There was no time for illness. There was simply too much at stake. He'd worked long and hard to reach this point, and nothing—not his driver, not a rainstorm, and certainly not a stitch in his side—was going to interfere with his success.
The number six train roared into the station, sparks flying on the steel below. The pain in his chest had intensified, making it hard to breathe, and the single light at the head of the train mesmerized him, the rhythmic sound of the wheels seeming to mimic the frantic beat of his heart.
He closed his eyes, fighting for breath, and started to take a step backward, but before he could accomplish the movement, the crowd moved again, each person intent on claiming a spot in front of the doors of the incoming train.
One minute there was concrete beneath his feet and the next—nothing. He knew he was falling, even tried to throw out his hands to break the fall, but the pain was too strong, his heart pumping with an almost syncopated rhythm, the effort robbing him of all strength—robbing him of life. Which was probably just as well, because two seconds
later the number six train smashed through Bingham Smith's body as if it were made of straw.
Six down, three to go.