By Felix Francis
One of many youngest winners of the Grand nationwide, Nick “Foxy” Foxton suffered a near-fatal harm that reduce brief his occupation. Years later, he’s out for an afternoon on the Grand nationwide races while his colleague, Herb Kovack, is shot at point-blank diversity correct in entrance of him. just like the police, Nick is baffled: Why could somebody kill such an it appears light soul?
Then Nick unearths a threatening word within the lifeless man’s coat, and he starts off to doubt how good he fairly knew his buddy. And on studying that Herb named him beneficiary in his will, Nick wonders why he’s been entrusted with the legacy. is that this a beneficiant reward from a chum, or is it, in reality, a poisoned chalice?
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Extra info for Dick Francis's Gamble
Or the way he turned almost catatonic after Max got through with him? If a drug explained those reactions, why hadn't Max used the same drug on her? A buried memory surfaced to form a cold spot in her chest. After Deanna had started spending so many evenings with Nola's group, she had often stumbled around the house in a daze the next day. She hadn't heard half the things Linnet said to her. Linnet had quickly realized her niece wasn't ignoring her on purpose. Rather, the lapses in attention were real.
Which you've got no business doing. She skimmed down his chest, relishing the texture of the hair against her palm. Stop that right this minute. Her hand ignored her. She gazed at the landscape she couldn't resist exploring. His nipples pebbled up, even though she hadn't touched them. Her own suddenly ached. His fingers clamped around her wrist. An involuntary gasp escaped her. Her eyes flicked up to his face and clashed with his, now wide-open. He was breathing audibly now, in shallow pants that her own breathing echoed.
Sighing, she reached up to rub the place where he'd nuzzled her neck. Had he realized his effect on her? How could he have failed to notice, when she'd barely restrained herself from moaning aloud? Aftershocks of pleasure vanished with a renewed flood of embarrassment. She gratefully sank into oblivion. She floated in a warm pool, fragrant bubbles frothing on the surface of the water. A rosy mist enveloped her. Hands played over her breasts, teasing the nipples to peaks. Lips nibbled at the corners of her mouth, her ears, her throat.
Dick Francis's Gamble by Felix Francis