Violette Dubrinsky Read Online Free PDF Page A

as when she’d looked up last, thirty minutes ago. He stood firmly planted at her bedroom window, his eyes searching the darkness, and his hand at his left side. Under the short-sleeved, checkered flannel shirt that clung to his muscled torso, she should be able to make out a weapon. But with his jeans and cowboy boots, Azaleigh saw nothing but tall, gorgeous Southern man .
    Clearing her throat, Azaleigh addressed him. “How long have you done this?”
    Victor half-turned, and blinked. Surprise and confusion was written over his striking features.
    “How long have you been a Protector?” she clarified.
    “Thirty-nine years.”
    “Wow. And how old are you?” If he’d been her aunt’s protector for that long, he had to be in his forties, which meant he had great genes because he didn’t look at day over thirty.
    “Thirty-nine.”
    “What?” That wasn’t possible. Tired, and at her wits end, she knew that.
    “I was created thirty-nine years ago.”
    It wasn’t the first time he’d worded his birth that way, and Azaleigh grew curious.
    “How?”
    As he explained, Azaleigh’s jaw grew slack. The beautiful specimen before her was a result of dirt and a spell? Maybe more men should be created that way—and no, she wasn’t going there.
    Licking her suddenly dry lips, she pushed to her feet, stretching her arms over her head to release the building tension. Victor watched her every move, his eyes traveling down her body in the ways of a sexually charged male, before coming to rest on her crotch. Moss greens remained glued to the spot for long seconds before Azaleigh crossed her arms beneath her breasts, pushing them higher under the deep vee of the T-shirt, and cleared her throat.
    Victor gave her an almost guilty look, and she almost smiled. Eventually, she returned to her spot on the bed, still staring at the stoic man in the corner.
    “What was she like?” When he quirked a brow, she added, “Antoinette.”
    Something reminiscent of a smile touched Victor’s lips. Instantly, Azaleigh knew they’d been close.
    “She was a good woman, kind of heart and loyal to those who didn’t show her the same courtesy.” He gave a little frown, then sighed. “I think you would have liked her.”
    “Why?”
    “You two are alike in spirit.”
    With a snort-laugh, Azaleigh sighed and shook her head. “I have no idea what that means.”
    “Your auras are the same. Warm blues, and pale yellows to signify loyalty, peace, devotion, love.”
    He could read auras too? What else could the zombie do? Unconsciously, her eyes drifted down his body— no ! Guiltily, she looked back to his face. “And you were together for thirty-nine years?”
    Nodding once, seemingly unaware—thankfully—of her checkout of his goods, Victor returned his attention to the dark outdoors. He had the eyes of a hunter, a predator searching out potential quarry.
    “Were you together ?”
    “Yes. Always.”
    Azaleigh shook her head, knowing the territory she breached was one she had no business entering.
    “Not like that.” She squirmed, trying to convince herself she was asking because she was curious about Antoinette and it had nothing to do with the fact that his body had been distracting her for the last minutes. “You know, in the other way.”
    “What other ways are there?” Victor deadpanned, blinking those clear eyes at her. After a moment, his lips curved up, and his entire face seemed to relax. The zombie was teasing her. “Our relationship was never based on that type of intimacy.” He must have seen the question on her face because he continued. “Antoinette protected the town and I protected her. Sometimes, I would watch the big box—the television—with her, and listen to the radio.”
    “What did you watch?” Listening to his deep baritone was both relaxing and frustrating, but she just wanted him to keep talking.
    “Matlock, Perry Mason, Days of Our Lives, and I think she was beginning to enjoy the reality