The game isn’t over until somebody dies.
Dangerous Games, the epic conclusion
to the “thrilling” and “mind-blowing” Dangerous Beauty Series from J.T.
Geissinger, is available now!
Eva
knows what it’s like to be imprisoned by a man’s twisted obsessions. But after
running, hiding, and finding refuge in a rescuer’s arms, she’s suddenly pulled
back into the black hole of her past. Kidnapped by her sadistic ex, Dimitri,
and with the love of her life left for dead, Eva is facing down the worst of
her demons alone.
If
Dimitri wants to play sick games, Eva’s ready. She already knows how dark they
can get. But despite her fears, she hasn’t been abandoned. Naz is in hot
pursuit. And the last thing Dimitri expects is for a dead man to come calling.
For Eva and Naz, worlds apart yet bound by fierce and unbreakable passion, it’s
time to beat the devil.
To
do it they’ll have to be just as ruthless, seductive, and cunning. With every
pulse of the heart, they must risk it all to play Dimitri’s final game to its
harrowing end—and win.
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Excerpt
Eva
“Make a sound and she dies.”
His gun pressed to the woman’s
temple, Dimitri speaks in Russian, his voice as soft as silk. His smile says he
assumes I’ll obey his instruction, because experience has taught him that I
will.
This is an old game between us, one I
know well. A game called Do What I Say, or Someone Innocent Suffers.
In this case, the someone innocent is a
terrified stranger holding a bottle of wine who Dimitri used as a lure. She
really could be the woman who owns the Airbnb rental Naz and I checked into,
which she identified herself as when I asked through the closed door of the
apartment moments ago, but I’ll probably never know.
Because her brains are about to paint
the porch red.
Sorry, lady. I stopped taking orders from this asshole a
while ago.
My scream is a wild beast of a thing,
tearing out of my throat with fangs and claws. It’s long, loud, and composed of
a single word.
“Naz!”
The woman jumps, drops the bottle of
wine, and bursts into hysterical tears.
Dimitri is so stunned by my
disobedience that he simply stares at me in blank disbelief.
I take advantage of his surprise and
kick him as hard as I can in his balls.
He doubles over with a roar but
doesn’t drop the gun. The woman shrieks like an air-raid siren. Naz calls out
from somewhere behind me, a panicked shout, but my attention is caught by the
sound of heavy boots pounding up the wooden stairs to the second-story
apartment. I only have time to scream Naz’s name again before a group of armed
men dressed all in black swarm the landing at the top of the stairs and crowd
there shoulder to shoulder.
Dimitri’s soldiers point a forest of
handguns at my face.
The woman’s eyes roll back into her
head, which makes a dull thud as it hits the landing’s iron rail on her way
down to the floor. She flops sideways, unconscious, legs splayed. Her plaid
housedress rides up, exposing flabby thighs the color and texture of curdled
milk.
“Take her!” snarls Dimitri through
gritted teeth. His eyes blaze cyborg blue, but he’s still doubled over,
cradling his groin.
I spin around to run but am caught by
my T-shirt and yanked backward. My back bumps into a solid surface. A forearm
as hard as an iron bar snaps into place around my throat. I scream again,
struggling and clawing at the arm that holds me, but my scream is cut short as
the arm tightens like a vise.
As stars pop in my vision, Naz
emerges from the bedroom with his gun in his hand.
He strides toward us, arm
outstretched, fully nude and heartbreakingly gorgeous.
“Stop where you are!” shouts Dimitri
in English.
Apparently he’s recovered from my
attack on his balls, because he jerks upright and shoves the barrel of his gun
under my jaw. My teeth clack together with the force of it.
Naz freezes in place. His eyes are
black and wild. His hair is wet. He’s dripping with moisture from the shower,
his body gleaming, his chest heaving up and down with each breath.
Each labored, fury-filled breath. I
can almost taste his rage. It’s a sharp metallic tang in the air, dangerous
enough to cause spontaneous combustion. There’s a moment of electric silence
where the only sound is the harsh breathing of the man who’s holding me. His
mouth is so close to my ear that his hot breath is a wash of steam down my
neck. Then Naz takes a careful step forward, and Dimitri speaks.
“Yes, come closer. If you want her dead.”
Naz freezes again. He’s focused on
Dimitri with extraordinary intensity, his eyes unblinking and his jaw like
stone. He appears to have no self-consciousness about his nudity and no fear
that he’s staring down a dozen muzzles of loaded guns. Every muscle in his
powerful body is tensed, ready to strike.
He’s magnificent. David challenging
Goliath, the light of vengeance in his eyes.
Please, God, don’t let him be about to die!
About J.T.
Geissinger
J.T. Geissinger is a bestselling author of emotionally
charged romance and women’s fiction. Ranging from funny, feisty rom coms to
intense, edgy suspense, her books have sold more than one million copies and
been translated into several languages.
She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book,
the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and is a two-time
finalist for the RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America®. She has also
been a finalist in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne
du Maurier Awards.
Her first novel was published in 2012. Since then she’s
written eighteen more novels. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, drinking
wine, surfing the internet, and daydreaming about all the things she’s going to
be when she grows up. She lives near the beach in Los Angeles with her husband
and deaf/demented rescue kitty, Ginger.
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