Samson's Lovely Mortal - Page 33/110

“Would you listen?” He started to get annoyed. “Delilah recognized him as the same guy who attacked her last night. I’ll have Carl fax over a sketch of him later. He shouldn’t be too hard to find. He’s got a tattoo on his neck and a scar on his cheek. He’s probably a member of a gang. Have the boys comb the city for him as soon as you get my description.”

Absentmindedly, he led Delilah’s hand to his lips and kissed her fingers tenderly. He needed to feel her to make sure she was alright.

“Was he a vampire?” Ricky wanted to know, his voice quieter now.

“No, definitely not.”

“Demon?”

“None of that, just a regular lowlife.” Hopefully Ricky understood that this meant the guy was human. He couldn’t exactly say it while Delilah was sitting right next to him, listening to his side of the conversation.

“And you let him get away?” Ricky’s accusation rang in his ear.

“What do you think? I couldn’t risk Delilah being hurt.” Was Ricky high on something? He knew full well that he couldn’t just have killed the guy in front of her without exposing himself.

“You could have wiped her memory clean. Ever thought of that?” Ricky kept his voice low so Delilah couldn’t hear him. He was right, but somehow Samson didn’t have the heart to use his powers on her. Something stopped him. He didn’t want anything to taint his relationship with her.

Relationship?

How had that strange thought entered his mind?

“I’m not listening to any more of this. Do what I told you to do. And another thing: he dropped his gun in the alley next to the theater. Retrieve it and trace it. Carl will show you where we were.” He was pissed and ended the call.

“What’s wrong?” Delilah sounded worried.

He immediately realized that he shouldn’t have been so harsh on the phone, but instead should have reined in his temper. He didn’t want her to be concerned. Gently he pulled her closer, putting one arm around her shoulders and taking her hand in his.

“Nothing. It’s just Ricky. He’s a little stubborn sometimes. You won’t have to worry about anything anymore. That man can’t hurt you.”

Samson kissed her hand. Delilah loved feeling his lips on her skin. It soothed her. She snuggled closer to him and hoped he wouldn’t think she was too needy, but his strong body made her feel safe, and that’s what she needed right now.

“Shouldn’t we go to the police?”

“The police never do anything about these things. Let Ricky handle it: he works in security. He knows what to do.” His voice was determined as if he was certain what the right course of action was. A man who took charge.

She looked up at him. The whole incident hadn’t fazed him at all. While she had shaken like a tree in a hurricane, he was calm and collected, almost as if occurrences like these were common for him.

“You probably think I’m crazy, but until this thug has been apprehended, I want you to stay at my house.”

She gave him a startled look. “Your house?”

“I know what this suggestion must sound like, especially after … you know … but I don’t want you to be alone. Somebody is obviously after you, and until we know who and why, I’d feel much better, if you were under my protection.”

Delilah wondered whether he was suddenly embarrassed to mention the little erotic games they had played. Could this damn incident have killed his mood? She assumed as much. It seemed that now he felt obligated to protect her. She would have wanted to stay with him tonight, but not to be under his protection. No, she wanted to be pinned under his sexy body, his naked body.

“You want to protect me?”

“Of course I do.” Samson gave her a strange look.

“Is that all?” She was certain that her disappointment showed. She’d never been good at hiding her feelings. As she looked into his eyes, she could detect a flicker in them, and then he suddenly smiled.

He shook his head. “No, that’s not all. If I only wanted to protect you, you’d be staying in the guest room.”

Something in her stomach made a somersault. A smile formed on her lips. “And I’m not staying in the guest room?” She was eager for his answer and held her breath.

“You can, if you insist.” His thumb stroked along her jaw and his stare was fixated on her lips. “I certainly would not want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I was hoping I could convince you to choose my bed instead.” His voice was sultry and full of desire. No man had ever spoken to her like this. His eyes suddenly looked much darker as he lowered his head toward hers.