Samson's Lovely Mortal
Page 4
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Samson Woodford, debonair bachelor vampire, can’t get it up!
***
Delilah Sheridan’s eyes hurt, but she continued scanning the rows of transactions for anything that looked out of place. Rubbing her stiff neck with her fingers, she longed for a massage, or at least a fifteen-minute soak in a hot tub, neither of which would happen tonight.
“Coffee?” John’s voice came from behind her.
She pushed a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear. “No, thanks; I want to be able to sleep tonight. I’ve had insomnia the last few nights. I’m probably still on New York time.” Her gaze remained fixed on her computer screen.
The night before, she’d barely slept despite the comfortable mattress. And the few hours she had been able to sleep, she’d been tormented by dreams which didn’t make a lick of sense.
The large, spacious office was practically deserted. The only people left were the two of them. John Reardon was the chief accountant for the San Francisco branch of the nationwide private company Delilah had come to audit.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s not sleeping in your own bed, that’s what does it, right?” John sounded sympathetic.
“At least they put me up in a corporate apartment rather than at a hotel. I don’t get disturbed by the housekeeping staff.”
True, she was staying in a comfortable condo which belonged to the company, but what did it matter when she couldn’t sleep anyway? Before her trip to San Francisco she’d never had any problems with insomnia. On the contrary, she was known for being able to sleep wherever and whenever she put her head on a pillow. It didn’t even have to be a pillow.
Delilah rubbed her eyes then looked at her watch. It was past nine o’clock. She felt almost guilty having stayed so late. John had insisted being there as long as she was. He didn’t want to leave her alone at the offices. She guessed he didn’t trust auditors not to snoop around. He got that right. Not that she’d call it snooping since she had all the authorization she needed. In fact, she had very specific instructions.
She wasn’t just here to audit the branch office of the company, but to investigate some irregularities. Delilah was sure John had no idea about this. He’d been told that it was merely one of the usual audits Headquarters performed regularly.
“Sorry, John. I’m sure you’re ready to go home.”
She turned to him. Leaning against the edge of one of the desks, he lifted his coffee cup to his lips. His gray suit seemed ill-fitting, and the collar of his shirt looked frayed. He was quite tall and decent looking for an accountant. Boring, bland, but not ugly.
He probably didn’t appreciate having to stay at the office this late. Well, she was beat anyway, so maybe she should call it a day, even though she knew she would probably toss and turn all night no matter what.
“Ready?”
A flicker of relief appeared in John’s eyes when she nodded. It took him all of two seconds to slip into his jacket and grab his briefcase. He sure was in a hurry to get out of there. She couldn’t blame him. He had a family waiting for him. And what did she have to go home to? It wasn’t even home.
Not that home would have been any more welcoming than the corporate apartment. Nobody was waiting for her. No man, not many friends—not even a cat or a dog. After this assignment was over and she was back in New York, she’d go out more and date. That was the plan. It was an excellent plan, one she’d made during every one of her out-of-town assignments and then promptly dismissed when she’d returned home. This time she meant it, though. Really.
But for now, all she wanted was to get some takeout and go to sleep. John was kind enough to direct her toward Chinatown where she could pick up some food on her way back to the apartment. Even though she’d been to Chinatown before, her sense of direction was much less developed than her head for numbers. During the day she normally managed, but in the dark she turned into a lost cause when it came to finding her way.
It had started drizzling, and she didn’t want to hang around too long. She ducked into the first Chinese restaurant she encountered. The place was virtually empty.
The woman at the entrance attempted to show her to a table, but Delilah waved her off.
“Just takeout, please.”
The hostess handed her a menu. Delilah scanned it quickly, trying not to let her fingers linger too long on the sticky plastic cover. The menu presented too many choices. How many different ways could you cook beef? Beef with bamboo shoots, beef with mushrooms, spicy beef. Enough already. She would play it safe.
“I’ll have the Mongolian beef with brown rice, please.”
***
Delilah Sheridan’s eyes hurt, but she continued scanning the rows of transactions for anything that looked out of place. Rubbing her stiff neck with her fingers, she longed for a massage, or at least a fifteen-minute soak in a hot tub, neither of which would happen tonight.
“Coffee?” John’s voice came from behind her.
She pushed a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear. “No, thanks; I want to be able to sleep tonight. I’ve had insomnia the last few nights. I’m probably still on New York time.” Her gaze remained fixed on her computer screen.
The night before, she’d barely slept despite the comfortable mattress. And the few hours she had been able to sleep, she’d been tormented by dreams which didn’t make a lick of sense.
The large, spacious office was practically deserted. The only people left were the two of them. John Reardon was the chief accountant for the San Francisco branch of the nationwide private company Delilah had come to audit.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s not sleeping in your own bed, that’s what does it, right?” John sounded sympathetic.
“At least they put me up in a corporate apartment rather than at a hotel. I don’t get disturbed by the housekeeping staff.”
True, she was staying in a comfortable condo which belonged to the company, but what did it matter when she couldn’t sleep anyway? Before her trip to San Francisco she’d never had any problems with insomnia. On the contrary, she was known for being able to sleep wherever and whenever she put her head on a pillow. It didn’t even have to be a pillow.
Delilah rubbed her eyes then looked at her watch. It was past nine o’clock. She felt almost guilty having stayed so late. John had insisted being there as long as she was. He didn’t want to leave her alone at the offices. She guessed he didn’t trust auditors not to snoop around. He got that right. Not that she’d call it snooping since she had all the authorization she needed. In fact, she had very specific instructions.
She wasn’t just here to audit the branch office of the company, but to investigate some irregularities. Delilah was sure John had no idea about this. He’d been told that it was merely one of the usual audits Headquarters performed regularly.
“Sorry, John. I’m sure you’re ready to go home.”
She turned to him. Leaning against the edge of one of the desks, he lifted his coffee cup to his lips. His gray suit seemed ill-fitting, and the collar of his shirt looked frayed. He was quite tall and decent looking for an accountant. Boring, bland, but not ugly.
He probably didn’t appreciate having to stay at the office this late. Well, she was beat anyway, so maybe she should call it a day, even though she knew she would probably toss and turn all night no matter what.
“Ready?”
A flicker of relief appeared in John’s eyes when she nodded. It took him all of two seconds to slip into his jacket and grab his briefcase. He sure was in a hurry to get out of there. She couldn’t blame him. He had a family waiting for him. And what did she have to go home to? It wasn’t even home.
Not that home would have been any more welcoming than the corporate apartment. Nobody was waiting for her. No man, not many friends—not even a cat or a dog. After this assignment was over and she was back in New York, she’d go out more and date. That was the plan. It was an excellent plan, one she’d made during every one of her out-of-town assignments and then promptly dismissed when she’d returned home. This time she meant it, though. Really.
But for now, all she wanted was to get some takeout and go to sleep. John was kind enough to direct her toward Chinatown where she could pick up some food on her way back to the apartment. Even though she’d been to Chinatown before, her sense of direction was much less developed than her head for numbers. During the day she normally managed, but in the dark she turned into a lost cause when it came to finding her way.
It had started drizzling, and she didn’t want to hang around too long. She ducked into the first Chinese restaurant she encountered. The place was virtually empty.
The woman at the entrance attempted to show her to a table, but Delilah waved her off.
“Just takeout, please.”
The hostess handed her a menu. Delilah scanned it quickly, trying not to let her fingers linger too long on the sticky plastic cover. The menu presented too many choices. How many different ways could you cook beef? Beef with bamboo shoots, beef with mushrooms, spicy beef. Enough already. She would play it safe.
“I’ll have the Mongolian beef with brown rice, please.”
