Undying Embrace Read Online Free PDF Page A

him.
    Curiosity had her glancing over to check out their version of a “hottie.” Her chest constricted, forcing her next breath to fight its way into her lungs. There was no mistaking that face, even though his hair was longer, below his shoulders, and the former deceptive halo of blond hair had been slashed with thick lines of black. It looked as though he’d dipped his hands in dye and raked them through his hair in an I-don’t-give-a-shit manner. Crazy. But striking.
    And she’d have known him anywhere.
    Arran MacLain.
    He tipped his beer up to his lips for a swallow, drawing her attention to the dark shadow of hair along his jaw. He’d tied his hair back, and a large black-and-platinum cross swayed at his earlobe. She shook her head and squirmed in her seat. Damn, he looked even sexier than… Her mind raced back to the Enclave’s former headquarters and the last moment they’d shared together on the staircase. She strummed her nails against the glass bottle in her hand.
    Forgettable.
    Yeah, that was the word he’d used to describe their kiss. She had the sudden urge to march over there and bash her beer bottle over his head. Instead, she tossed back a gulp of the cold, bitter liquid.
    Above her head, chilled air blew from the vent in the ceiling, a welcome temporary relief from the overheated bodies steaming up the crowded floor space. A lock of hair from her wig blew across her face. She brushed it back, making room for another sip of her beer, her eyes never leaving Arran’s face.
    He went for his bottle again and lifted it to his mouth, but his arm stilled before the beer met his lips. She knew the moment he sensed her presence. His nostrils flared, and his beer made a slow descent back to the counter. Her heart hammered against her chest, and a shudder raced across her body. Another round of Nine Inch Nails’ haunting cry for help filled the room. Perfect timing. She had a feeling that in a few seconds, she was going to need it.
    She should run.
    Now.
    So why didn’t she reach for her purse? As if time had slowed to a crawl, his head turned in her direction. His sage green gaze met hers, setting fire to the part of her soul that had been frozen since he’d walked out of her life.
    “What the hell are you doing here?” Elle jumped at the unexpected growl in her ear. The familiar scent of warm leather and spice, one she would never forget, teased her nostrils.
    God, help me.
    When had he moved? Her eyes darted from the now-vacant location at the bar, to the spot over her shoulder. He leaned closer, bracing his body with one large palm against the edge of the bar, the other on the back of her stool. The warmth of his presence enveloped her, notching her temperature up. She tightened her grip on her beer, the chill of the glass doing little to calm the fever inside her.
    She didn’t owe him an answer. Two years and that was how he greeted her? She dropped her gaze back to her bottle and took a very deliberate swig of her beer, hoping like hell that he would get his boxers in a wad. That is, if he wore any. The mouthful of beer staggered down her throat, almost choking her, but she recovered. Oh no, brain. Do not go there.
    “Gabrielle.” Her name was another growl in her ear. “What are you doing here?”
    Elle eased the bottle back to the bar top, then swiveled her head to face him. She’d always loved the graceful lines of his face—a long, straight nose and chiseled jaw, to full lips any woman would be envious of. She risked a glance into his eyes. Pale green irises consumed her, surrounded by a thick fan of lashes so dark, he didn’t need to add the trademark goth eyeliner.
    “You need a shave.” She traced her index finger along the curve of his bearded jaw. Electric tingles, like heat lightning on a hot summer night, traveled every nerve path straight to her core. She gasped and jerked her hand away. A rush of moisture gathered between her legs. Arran’s eyes widened, and his mouth parted,