My Immortal by Erin McCarthy Page B

kids when they felt the urge to help their fellow man. But whatever. “And for your own entertainment?”
    “Of course.” He shrugged carelessly, but his eyes told a different story. When Marley looked at him, she saw it clearly, so obvious she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before. Damien’s eyes were burning, with both anger and a raw, agonizing pain.
    The emotion took her breath away, stripped her indignation, stirred her compassion. Marley found herself reaching forward, putting her hand over his, wanting to comfort him. “Damien…”
    She stroked his hand, and he glanced down at it, looking startled. The moment hung between them—his pain, her sympathy, his reluctant help, her fear. Then Damien shifted his hand, slipping it over the top of hers, and held her still. His thumb moved, stroking across her skin, sliding under to circle over her palm. She sucked her breath in at the sudden change in his eyes. The pain was gone, replaced by desire, a raw and powerful lust, and she snatched her hand back.
    Touching him had been a mistake. It had taken her gesture of comfort and flipped it on its side, shifted control over to him, and made her feel vulnerable, needy. As though when he had caressed her hand, he had seen inside her, where she was hungry to be the center of attention for the first time, desperate to have someone love her, focus on her, be strong enough to let her lean on them just once. Whatever truth there was to that, none of it was relevant here with him, and she wasn’t about to let Damien muck around in her insecurities.
    She sipped her soft drink, then said, “So if you invite the same people, you’re hoping Lizzie will show up with whoever she was with last time? What about her picture? I thought you were going to show it to some people.”
    “Just a few close friends. My hope is more that she’ll arrive with the same people as before, which is why I wanted to hear about her. I need to know the type of man she is usually drawn to and where she was before she arrived in Louisiana. Maybe I can target the invitations based on that, since we don’t know what night she was here exactly.”
    “She made it sound like she was here for several days.”
    “That’s helpful. I had a three-day event in mid-June.”
    The word event made Marley want to snicker, but she held it in. “I think she came here straight from Cincinnati. She was definitely home for Memorial Day, because I left the following week, and I saw her before I left.”
    “What type of man does she normally go out with?”
    Any man with two legs that had at least a smattering of English language skills. But that would sound snarky if she said it out loud, which it probably was. Marley shrugged. “Lizzie doesn’t have a type—she’s gone out with construction workers and a doctor. Tall guys, short, thin, built. I’ve never seen her date a guy much older than thirty, thirty-five though. And generally speaking, they’re white.”
    “What about the child’s father? Could she be visiting him?”
    “I don’t know who Sebastian’s father is.” Another source of contention between her and Lizzie. “She wouldn’t tell me. She just said it didn’t matter because he wasn’t in the picture anymore.”
    Damien shook his head. “This isn’t much. But I’ll do what I can. I’ll invite the largest group possible without arousing suspicion. Given the short notice, we should get a nice attendance…most like the challenge of rearranging their busy work and social schedules to attend a last-minute party. It adds to the stimulation. With a little luck, your sister will show up.”
    “What time should I be there?” Marley’s mouth went dry at the thought of going to Damien’s party, but she would just station herself near the door as a coat checker or something and look for Lizzie. She had no intention of actually seeing any of these people doing whatever it was they did.
    “You’re not going to be there at any time.”
    That