Samson's Lovely Mortal

by Tina Folsom

  As if he felt her gaze on him, he suddenly raised his eyes and looked at her. Caught! He gave her the faintest of smiles, and she felt heat stream into her cheeks. This man could confuse the hell out of her. She quickly turned back to the computer screen. She had to keep a cool head. In a few days her work would be done, especially if she worked through the weekend, and then she was free to leave. All this would just be a distant memory.

  The hours ticked by, and to her surprise the two men did not get tired. Knowing that Samson had barely slept the night before when they had—nevermind. And then he’d been in business meetings all day. Well, it was none of her concern anyway. He was a grown up. If he didn’t think he needed any sleep, she wasn’t going to care. At least tomorrow was the weekend, and nobody would have to get up too early.

  She suddenly suppressed a yawn and glanced at the clock.

  “Wow, it’s almost six o’clock.”

  Samson and Amaury looked at each other.

  “Damn,” Amaury exclaimed.

  Samson said something to him Delilah couldn’t hear, and Amaury nodded.

  “I’d better get some sleep. Good night,” she said and got up, switching off the computer.

  Samson stood and followed her out of the room. “ ‘Night, Amaury.”

  “ ‘Night.”

  In the hallway, her suitcase was still at the same place she had dropped it earlier. Before she could pick it up, Samson took it and started walking upstairs with it. Tired, she followed him.

  “You and Amaury didn’t have to stay up with me this long. I could have done this by myself.”

  “Don’t worry about us. We’re used to being up late. And besides, it’s my company. I have a vested interest in finding out who’s trying to pull a fast one on us.”

  As they reached the top of the stairs, he headed for his bedroom, while she made a move toward the guest room. She stopped when she saw where he was going, still holding onto her suitcase.

  “I need my suitcase.” Delilah reached out her hand, expecting him to hand it to her.

  “That’s why I’ve brought it up with me. Come.” He opened the door and turned to wait for her to join him.

  “I don’t think you understand: when I told you that I don’t date clients, it wasn’t a joke.”

  “Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to fire you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not. I’m practical.” He hovered at the open door.

  Delilah crossed her arms in front of her chest, assuming a defensive position. She needed all the strength she could muster. “Even if you fire me, I won’t sleep in your room. I’ll be in the guestroom.” She spun on her heels and walked away.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” There was no malice in his voice, just a firm determination.

  “Watch me.” She made her challenge clear. If he really thought he could get her back this easily, he had to be completely loony.

  “I would hate to have to beat up Amaury.”

  “What?” She turned. What did Amaury have to do with this? It made not a lick of sense to her. If his plan was to confuse her, he’d succeeded. She was all ears.

  “I would hate to find the two of you together in the guest bedroom. He’s staying. So unless you want to start a big fight between two good friends, I suggest you stay with me.”

  So that was what the two of them had been whispering about in the office. He’d tricked her. “You were planning this, weren’t you? You know what? I can sleep on the couch in the living room.”

  Samson shook his head, and his eyes gazed at her, full of softness and warmth. It wasn’t fair.

  “I’m still mad at you.” She hadn’t wanted to say this, but it just came out.

  “I know that. You have my word: I won’t touch you. I know when I’ve made a mistake, and I know when to apologize. But would you please give me a chance to explain things to you, so that maybe you can forgive me?” His tone was pleading. “I don’t want this to end.”

  Delilah met his gaze. “What?”

  “Us.” He stretched out his free hand. “Please talk to me.”

  Hesitantly she moved toward him, her feet not following her brain, which told her not to fall for his charm again. Seconds later, she was in his bedroom and heard him shut the door behind her. She was alone with him. She needed to be whipped, severely. Had she not just five minutes ago promised herself to stay away from him?

  Samson switched on the fireplace and sat down in front of it, looking into the flames. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “Well, you did.” She wouldn’t make this easy for him. If he wanted her forgiveness, he’d have to work for it. Hard. Just looking so darn irresistible wasn’t going to get him out of this quagmire.

  Sure, tell your body that! Oh, shut up!

  “And I’m very sorry about it. I know I can’t take it back, but I would like you to see my side of it, too. You showed up at my house, completely unexpected and so enticing. And then you instantly wrapped me around your little finger—”

  “Did not,” Delilah protested, but inwardly had to smile. He really thought she’d wrapped him around her finger? No man had ever said that of her. She wasn’t a temptress. Never had been, never would be. She wouldn’t even know where to start.

  He smiled at her. “Did too. And you so willingly shared my bed. Believe me, no man is that lucky.”

  Delilah looked at him. Did he actually mean that? Had he looked in the mirror lately? Guys like him did get this lucky. All the time.

  “That’s not a good enough reason for going behind my back.”

  “No, but fear of another betrayal is. What’s that saying? ‘Once burned, twice shy’?”

  “Betrayal?” Now she was curious.

  “There was a woman.” Samson looked at her to check for her reaction. Should he tell her the whole story, all of it? It would help her understand why he’d been so afraid. Why thinking she would betray him had sent him into such a tailspin.

  “The redhead.”

  He was stunned. How had she guessed?

  “You looked so tense, so full of rage when you spoke to her.”

  He stretched out his hand to motion her to sit with him. Delilah obliged him and took a seat on the floor pillows next to him. He wanted to feel her close when he told her what had happened. Not even his friends knew the details he was willing to share with her. All they knew was that he’d discovered that she’d been after his money. He’d never told anybody about the horrible things he’d overheard her say on the phone.

  “I was introduced to her by a mutual acquaintance. Ilona was new in town. We started dating, and she made me believe that she cared for me. I was at a point in my life where I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

  “Did you love her?” Delilah’s voice was low, almost as if she hadn’t wanted to ask that question. No woman wanted to hear a man confess that he loved somebody else. Even he knew that much.

  “I believed so at the time. Everybody told me what a great couple we were, so I figured if everybody saw it, it had to be true. The night I was planning to propose to her, I surprised her. She hadn’t expected me. I overheard her on the phone, talking to one of her friends. The things she said …”

  Samson felt her soft hand on his forearm, stroking him gently. It felt so good to have Delilah’s warm hand caress him. He didn’t dare touch her for fear she’d stop. Her fingers were comforting and soothing.

  “She said, she hated being touched by me, that she couldn’t stand making love to me, and that once she’d be bl … married to me, she didn’t care who saw to my sexual needs, but it wasn’t going to be her. That she’d throw up if she had to kiss me again.” Even now he couldn’t repeat her exact words.

  Delilah looked at him, her eyes wide in shock.

  “All she wanted was my money.” And once she had it, she would have had somebody get rid of him. He couldn’t prove it, but he suspected it.

  “But weren’t you going to have a prenup? E
verybody in California has one.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not how it works with me. No prenup. The woman I marry one day will have equal rights to everything I own. She will be my partner, in life and in business. Once I commit myself to somebody, it’ll be without reservations.” A blood-bond was more than a marriage. A blood-bond was marriage without prenup, without divorce. It truly was till death do us part. He would have to explain it to her, one day, one day soon.

  “Oh.”

  “But that’s not all. After I broke it off with her, I couldn’t trust another woman. I didn’t want to see anybody, nobody interested me.”

  “That’s normal after a breakup like that,” she said softly, compassion clearly written in her lovely face.

  Samson shook his head. “It’s not normal for a man to suddenly have no sexual appetite anymore. And it’s definitely not normal to have no erection for nine months.”

  Her mouth fell open at his frank admission.

  “It’s true.” He nodded, watching her.

  “Your friends know all this?”

  “Only the basics, I never told them what actually happened and what she said. You’re the only person who knows.”

  He’d confided in her and her alone. He felt her move closer to him.

  “So your friends tried to help you and got you a stripper …” Delilah let the sentence hang in the air.

  “And instead, you showed up, and suddenly everything sprung back to life. I couldn’t believe what was happening at first, but when I kissed you for the first time, and you were struggling to fight me off, I got so turned on … Suddenly everything that had been dormant for so long woke up.”

  Her cheeks colored a gorgeous shade of pink.

  “Can you imagine how scared I was when Carl found those files in your luggage, and I thought our meeting wasn’t a coincidence? That you’d been playing me? That you didn’t want me, but my money? I’d just started feeling something again, and just then, I thought you’d been …” It was painful to talk about it even now. “Please forgive me. I should have talked to you immediately and asked you about the files. I could have spared us this.”

  Delilah put her finger onto his lips. “Shh.” How could she continue to be mad at him when he’d opened up to her like that? What man would admit that he’d had erection problems, especially to a woman he wanted to get into bed? This couldn’t be some cheap trick. She looked into his eyes, searching for a sign that she was mistaken, that he couldn’t be trusted, but there was none. Nobody would stoop this low to get what he wanted, would he? No. His voice, his face, everything felt and sounded honest, open. He’d told her everything.

  But there was still another question. She didn’t want to ask it, but she had to. She owed it to herself. At least then she’d know where she stood.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. Does this mean that you just want sex? I mean, it’s ok,” she added hastily. She didn’t want to sound like a prude or too needy. “If that’s all you want. I can understand, given the circumstances. I mean, what man wouldn’t want to catch up, right? Nine months is a long time for a man. And we’re both consenting adults. I mean, this is just a fling. Anyway, I don’t even live here, I have to go back to New York …” She was babbling. She knew there was no future in this. At least she knew now that the reason he wanted her was because he was starved for sex. Fair enough. They were adults. She could deal with it, couldn’t she? Couldn’t she?

  Samson’s hand went to her face, his thumb stroking her jaw. His gaze moved from her trembling lips to her eyes. She shivered, but she wasn’t cold.

  “I want more.”

  “More sex?” Her voice shaky, she avoided his gaze.

  “More of everything. More of you, not just sex. This isn’t about sex anymore. And I’ll prove it to you. Tonight—”

  “It’s already day.”

  “Today, all I want is having you sleep in my arms. No sex: I just want to be close to you. You don’t even have to be naked. In fact, it’s probably better if you’re not. I don’t expect you to forgive me immediately; I know you’re still mad at me, but I need to have you close. I need to feel you breathe beside me, I need your warmth. Please.”

  As much as Samson hungered for her body and to be inside of her, he owed her this much. He needed to prove to her that he didn’t just want her for sexual gratification, that he respected her decisions. If he could hold off his sexual urges for the day to prove to her that he needed her for something other than sex, he had a chance at making her his for good. It was worth the sacrifice. She was worth the sacrifice.

  “You want me just here with you? You won’t kiss me?”

  He looked at her lips, slightly parted and moist. Of course he wanted to kiss her, but how could he stop after that? He pulled Delilah into his arms and pressed her head against his chest, smoothing his palm over her hair. “I promised you when you came in here tonight that I wouldn’t touch you. I’m gonna stick to it.”

  “You’re touching me now.”

  “You know what I meant, so don’t split hairs with me.” He chuckled softly, knowing that if she teased him, she couldn’t be quite as mad anymore.

  Samson let her change in the bathroom while he stripped down to his boxers in the bedroom. He used the spare bathroom down the hall to get ready for bed, figuring as a woman she’d be in his on-suite bathroom for longer than he cared to stay up. The sun had come up already, and he needed to get some sleep. He felt his body tiring fast and his energy draining quickly.

  He lay down in bed, pulling the covers over him. It only took a couple of minutes until he heard the bathroom door open and saw her. If he had been tired before, suddenly all of that was wiped away. Was she planning to seduce him?

  Delilah wore the sexiest baby-doll nightdress he’d ever seen—the only one he’d ever seen—the fabric of which was far too thin to leave anything to the imagination. Not that he had to imagine anything in the first place. He had a mental photograph of every inch of her body safely locked away in his memory bank.

  She slipped underneath the covers and right into his arms, molding her pliable body to his. Samson was sure she noticed the hungry look with which he devoured her. He hoped that sleep would claim him soon so he could keep his promise, but knew instinctively that it wouldn’t come fast enough.

  “You said you wanted me to sleep in your arms, right?”

  “Yes, but I also said, you should not be naked.” His hands went around her, pressing her closer to him. He could feel every muscle in her body.

  “I’m not naked.”

  “That’s debatable.” She felt naked to him. His response was automatic. Blood surged to his loins as if somebody had opened the gates to a dam. Hoover Dam, for all he knew.

  She moved her head close to his, tempting him with her sweet scent. “Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?”

  “Better not.” He could barely speak now, trying to hold back the urge to take her. Images of her glistening skin against his flooded his mind. Their bodies moving in synch, his hard cock impaling her, pumping hard, slamming into her. He felt pearls of sweat building on his brow, heat surging through his body as he tried to fight against his nature.

  “Don’t you find me attractive anymore?”

  She knew exactly what she was doing, even more so when he felt her hand run down his chest, to his stomach, to his boxers. He was unable to stop her, not because he didn’t have the physical strength, but because all rational thought flew right out of his head. When her hand wrapped around his erection, he knew he’d lost the battle, but he made one more attempt at keeping his promise.

  “You should stop. I made a promise.” It was difficult for him to speak. All his brain could think about was her soft palm moving up and down his cock.

  “I didn’t, which means I can touch you all I want.” He couldn’t believe his ears. The reason he had promised her not to touch her was so he could gain her trust back and earn her forgiveness, and what did she do? She shamelessly seduced him.
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  “You can’t be serious. You’re mad at me, remember?”

  Delilah looked up at him and shook her head. “Not anymore. If I was still mad at you, I wouldn’t be in your bed right now. And I wouldn’t be touching you the way I am.” Her hand squeezed tighter around his hard shaft as she moved along his steely length. “So, would you please stop playing hard to get and kiss me?”

  “Hard to get? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that.” He suddenly felt her shift, and within seconds she was on top of him, straddling him. With one swift move, she lifted her nightgown over her head and threw it off the bed. His eyes took her in, all of her gorgeous nakedness, her silken skin, her curves. He stared at her round twin globes that would fit perfectly into his palms.

  Slowly Samson took her face into both hands and pulled her down to him. “I would have kept to my word, but you leave me no choice.” He captured her mouth, devouring her. He was starved, starved for her taste. For a second he pulled back. “And I want you to know, no more sex: from now on, we make love.” It was important to him to make that distinction. He was done with mindless sex. He wanted a different kind of intimacy with her. All he wanted now was to show her what he felt for her, to win her heart and her trust so that soon he could tell her the last of his secrets and reveal his true identity.

  Samson’s lips went back to kiss her, and if Delilah had ever had any doubts about him, he just kissed them away. This man had opened up to her like no other man ever had, and even though she had circumvented his efforts to keep to his promise of not touching her, she had seen the sincerity in him in trying to keep his promise. It was all she needed to know. There was no need to waste the night—or rather the day—without touching. There was only one place she wanted him right now, and it was inside of her, captured between her thighs. For how ever long she could keep him there.

  His kiss was more tender than it had ever been before. She could feel his hunger and need beneath it, just barely kept in check, ready to break to the surface. But still, he overwhelmed her with his tenderness, with the intimate caress his tongue unleashed on her mouth. His fingers framed her face, softly stroking her skin and teasing her sensitive neck as if he couldn’t bear to let go of her face.