My Immortal Read Online Free PDF

they didn’t care about and were only using for selfish, distracting pleasure?
    But that wasn’t any of her business. All she was concerned with was finding her sister and hauling her back home where she belonged. Where Marley was determined to keep a better eye on her in the future.
    Knowing all of that didn’t prevent her from wondering what exactly Damien did at his parties, wondering if he participated or if he was just an observer, a perverted ringmaster.
    “I appreciate you trying at all,” she said, annoyed at her crude thoughts, wanting out of the small room, away from this man with the dark green, charming, sinful eyes. He could have sex with three women at once and it was totally irrelevant. People were depraved, and she couldn’t change that, not even in her own sister.
    “You know I can’t help you, don’t you?” He suddenly pushed a button on his organizer and tossed it roughly on the desk, scattering some papers resting there. “I want to help you, but I can’t. I’m sorry, I really am. But we can’t always do what we’d like, and we don’t always get what we want.”
    Didn’t she know it. If everyone got what they wanted, Marley would be sitting in a house back home in Cincinnati with a husband and children. Lizzie would be a nurse and their mother wouldn’t have tried to kill herself three times. She didn’t need this guy giving her a lecture about regret.
    “I just want to find my sister. I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll just leave now.”
    “You do that.” His nostrils were flared, jaw clenched, words low and tight. “It won’t work, you know. I won’t do it, no matter how tempting it is. So yes, you should definitely leave.”
    Marley frowned, suddenly sorry she’d given him her phone number and e-mail address. She had no idea what he was talking about, he looked annoyed, and she wasn’t getting anywhere. She backed toward the door. “Fine. I’m sorry.” Her fingers passed over the printout of Lizzie’s e-mail she had tucked into the outside pocket of her purse. She had also printed the letter Lizzie had attached and had put it in the middle compartment of her purse. Bracing herself for a brush-off, she paused in the doorway.
    It might tick him off even further to ask, but if he knew anything, anything at all…she had to hear it. Had to know. “I’m leaving, but…”
    “But what?” He leaned against his desk, pinning her with a passive stare, his arms across his olive green T-shirt.
    “Do you know who Marie du Bourg is? My sister, she gave me a letter from Marie, and I just thought it was odd…it was quite old, a confession apparently…”
    Marley stopped talking when Damien stood straight up, his fists clenching, jaw dropping, voice angry and confused. “What the hell do you know about Marie?”
    “Nothing. Just that she lived here. I don’t know why Lizzie had her letter.”
    “Give it to me,” he demanded sticking his hand out. He moved toward her, and Marley instinctively shifted her purse slightly behind her back.
    It occurred to her then that maybe he had lied. Maybe he did remember Lizzie and maybe he did know something that could help Marley find her sister, and he was just choosing not to tell her.
    And he wanted the letter from Marie du Bourg for whatever reason. This could work in her favor if she played it right. She took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and stood her ground.
    “Find my sister and I’ll give you the letter,” she told him, impressed with how cool and confident she sounded. Blackmail wasn’t exactly her forte, but she was feeling a little desperate.
    Damien stopped walking, eyes narrowing. “Well, Miss Marley Turner, I was truly not expecting that. You’re much more devious and bold than I gave you credit for. But I don’t know where your sister is.”
    “But you can help me find her.”
    “I doubt it.”
    “Do you want the letter or not?”
    “Oh, I want it.”
    “Then find Lizzie.”
    “That letter belongs to my