Read Online Undying Embrace by Jessica Lee - Free Book Online

the victim.
    And she was nobody’s victim.
    An hour later, she’d finished the last touch on her eyeliner when the doorbell rang. Tugging the zipper up on her waist-length, red leather vest, she headed downstairs to the door.
    As she came down the steps, she spotted through the front door’s narrow windowpane a red-and-black motorcycle parked next to her convertible. Unbidden, a groan released from her throat, and she froze on the last step. Why was she surprised? Even after what happened last night, she should have known he wasn’t going to allow her to search for her sister alone. He may have left the Enclave, but he was still the same alpha male warrior: arrogant and hardheaded.
    By the time she reached the door, Arran was putting fist to wood in a slow and steady pounding.
    “I know you’re home, Gabrielle,” he yelled through the door. “You might as well open the door.”
    Giving a hard twist to the brass knob, she yanked the door open. “What are you doing here?”
    Arran stood with one hand gripping each side of the door. He tilted his head and stared down at her. “I said I would be here. I promised to help you find your sister, and that’s what I’m doing.”
    The moonlight’s silhouette wrapped his body from behind, marking the wide breadth of his shoulders, the perfect angle of his jaw, and the straight slope of his nose. He’d left his hair down tonight, allowing the alternating black and blond layers to fall across his shoulders. The blond streaks reflected the moonbeam’s silvery light. He looked like a god wrapped in Satan’s clothing.
    He dropped his arms and sauntered past her. Elle closed the door and turned, her gaze following the way his body moved under his leather jacket. The way his hair swayed, brushing the top of his shoulder blades. She bit her lip. The temptation to savor the rest of the view was killing her.
    Don’t look.
    Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
    Don’t do this to yourself.
    Damn, she couldn’t resist. Elle’s gaze dropped.
    His black boots were scuffed, dusty, and worn in that I-don’t-give-a-shit-but-I’m-sexy-as-hell-anyway manner. Her eyes moved up as he turned around at the staircase and leaned against the post. On impulse, she licked her lips at the large bulge waiting behind the fly of his leather pants. She swallowed and breathed deep, trying to calm the flutters in her stomach. The scent of cinnamon and leather hung in the air, sending a jolt of electricity straight through her. She had to move.
    Rubbing her palm low across her abdomen, she headed for the living room. The desire to rip his clothes off and rub herself all over that amazing body drove her crazy. She also didn’t need bloodhound back there to get a whiff of her arousal. Distance. Yep, that was the answer.
    “I don’t need a chaperone,” she said from behind her sister’s green couch, staring at the bright glow of the moon outside the window.
    The thump of his boots against the wooden floor followed her into the room and stopped. She refused to turn around. God help her, she didn’t need another eyeful.
    “I like your hair better this way.” His words were soft, almost caressing. And not what she expected. Stunned, she turned, automatically reaching up and grasping a few of her locks. It was then she glimpsed the natural chestnut color of her hair. Ah, right . Last night, she’d worn the black wig.
    “Oh, thanks.” She dropped her hair. “I haven’t had time to put the wig back on yet.”
    “Right.” He nodded and strolled over to one of the high-back, overstuffed chairs facing the couch. After plopping down, he stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles. He looked almost ridiculous, so much man wedged into such a narrow chair. Arran laced his fingers across his chest, as if he’d settled in for the evening, and announced, “Guess you’d better finish getting ready.” She gripped the back of the couch and bit down on her molars to keep from screaming.
    “I