My Immortal by Erin McCarthy Read Free Book Online Page B

it.”
    Marley ripped the photo she’d brought back out of Damien’s hand. “Do you recognize my sister? She’s missing and I think she was at one of Damien’s parties.”
    Rosa looked at the snapshot, then shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve never seen her before.”
    Then she went to the door and put her hand in Damien’s. Marley watched in surprise as Rosa gave him a full kiss on the mouth, her lips lingering so long that he finally set her away from him.
    “Bye.” She gave a little wave and left.
    Damien grimaced. “Sorry. That’s…Rosa. She loves to irritate me.”
    “Is she your ex-wife?”
    He looked startled. “No. Why?”
    “You look like you have a past.” Despite Damien’s annoyance, they were clearly comfortable with each other. Rosa’s mouth had covered his with no awkwardness, no hesitation.
    “Well, that is certainly true. We’ve known each other a long time.” Damien leaned against the wall.
    Marley nodded. “I can tell.” She glanced back at the painting hung so prominently on the white wall. It was hauntingly beautiful, two women suspended in nothing, a cold, barren landscape behind them. It seemed to echo the ache she was feeling, the worry she felt over Lizzie. “I actually like the painting.”
    “Thank you.” Damien moved in next to her and studied it alongside her. “It’s called The Punishment of Lust . Do you understand punishment, Marley?”
    The question was too obscure for her to answer. But it suddenly saddened her to hear the pain in his voice, to feel the way he stood next to her, stiff and isolated. She wondered about him, about how he lived his life, why he seemed to be alone despite his notorious parties. While she couldn’t answer the question, it seemed Damien knew punishment—she suspected he was castigating himself for something.
    “I understand that punishment is necessary. And that the punishment should fit the crime. Is that what you mean?” Maybe Lizzie should be punished for running off and worrying her family. But Marley knew Lizzie punished herself enough on her own with her violent mood swings, her highs and her extreme lows. Marley would always forgive Lizzie for her flaws, and she would never abandon her.
    “It seems to me that most often the one who pays for the crime is not the criminal.” He moved his finger in a slow half circle, tracing the women. “This painting is from a series on bad mothers. They’ve abandoned their children because of their lust…they placed carnal desire, their own pleasures, above the needs of their children.”
    A chill went through Marley. That sounded too personal, directed at Lizzie. But it was just a coincidence. He wasn’t trying to make a statement to her—it was just a painting.
    He was much closer to her now, and when he turned and spoke, she could feel his breath on her cheek, hot and inexplicably arousing. A shiver rippled over her skin.
    “Do you understand lust, Marley?”
    It was meant to rattle her, clearly, but it had the opposite effect. His probing yet somehow casual flirtation irritated her and made her bolder than she normally would be. Jerking her head to the side, she met his gaze head on. “No, I don’t. I’m not a lustful person.”
    His finger came out and traced her lip, the same way he had outlined the painting. The touch was warm, erotic, invasive. Appealing. “I think you are wrong, very wrong. I can feel the lust in you, Marley Turner.”
    For a second, one small tiny blip, Marley forgot who she was. In that brief splash in time, she almost believed Damien’s words, and followed her instinctive urge to shift into his touch, spread her legs around his. Give in to the desire to live like Lizzie did, for a short shallow moment.
    But she didn’t. Moving her head away, she said, “That’s heat stroke, not lust.”
    Damien burst out laughing. “You’re very amusing.”
    “I aim to please.”
    His finger tapped the end of her nose. “I shouldn’t have asked you here, to