Samson's Lovely Mortal
Page 84
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
His concern for her was evident. His hand brushed hers lightly before he put it back on the steering wheel. The moment was so brief she could have dreamed it, but the lingering pleasant tingling on her skin told her she hadn’t. His touch was as real as he was.
Her instincts had been correct in the shower when she’d seen his eyes flash red. And she now understood why there was no mirror in the bathroom. If it was true that vampires didn’t reflect in mirrors then there was no need for him to have one. No wonder he hadn’t been able to be with her during the day. If he was a real vampire, he couldn’t be outside in sunlight without turning into ash.
When he and Amaury had stayed up with her all night, they hadn’t become tired. It was all so clear now. Even when he’d sent Carl out to buy some food for her, she’d bet that there hadn’t been one single edible item in the fridge before. The little signs had been there, but she hadn’t seen them or hadn’t wanted to see them. Even his tremendous strength when he’d kicked the gun out of the thug’s hand was probably because he was a vampire.
And whenever he’d carried her, it had seemed that he’d had to expense no strength at all, as if she was light like a feather, which she knew she definitely wasn’t. There were these few persistent pounds around her waist she could never quite get rid off.
I can’t get you pregnant.
Delilah suddenly remembered his words when he’d realized that the condom had ripped. So it was true: as a vampire Samson couldn’t father children. Why wasn’t she relieved about this? Shouldn’t she be glad that at least she wouldn’t already be pregnant and carry the spawn of a vampire? Strangely the thought of it filled her with regret rather than relief.
She suddenly remembered the strange dreams she’d had. The house she’d seen in her dreams was Samson’s, she was certain now. And the bite on her neck she’d dreamed of? Was this a warning of what was to come? Would he bite her one night in her sleep and drain her? If she was smart, she’d heed the warning.
When the car stopped at a red light, she was wondering why she didn’t make a run for it. She could easily open the car door and jump out. He wouldn’t know what hit him. She was fast and would be able to get away. It would be easy. She eyed the door handle and stretched out her hand.
“Please. Don’t run away.” Samson’s voice wasn’t a command, it was a plea. She met his gaze and noticed his eyes shimmer golden, the same way he’d looked when he’d made love to her in the morning. Delilah put her hand back into her lap and averted her eyes. He shouldn’t look at her that way. It was confusing as hell. She wished he’d flash his fangs again, so she’d have the courage to run, but when he looked at her that way, things didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. Would it ever again?
When he finally parked the car outside an Edwardian home, she knew they had reached their destination. He didn’t lead her through the main door, but instead showed her to a side door which led to the basement of the building. She hesitated at the door.
“Nobody will hurt you,” he whispered behind her. “I give you my word.” The word of a vampire. She had to be crazy to believe him, after all the lies she’d caught him in.
The blond bimbo at the receptionist’s desk barely gave her a second look and instead looked straight at Samson.
“He’s just finishing up with his last patient. It’ll be a couple of minutes.”
She pointed at the couch. Delilah made no move to sit, and Samson remained at her side. She looked around the waiting room. There were several comfortable chairs, a coffee table with newspapers … Did she see right? SF Vampire Chronicle one of the papers said. They had their own newspaper? She gave Samson a curious look and noticed that he’d been watching her.
“We do read, you know.”
Smartass!
She turned away from him and continued her perusal of the room, not in the mood to engage in any conversation. Her gaze stopped at the vending machine. She suddenly felt thirsty. Maybe she could get a bottle of water or some juice. When she took a step toward the vending machine, she felt Samson’s hand on her arm. She gave him an annoyed look, but he only shook his head slowly.
“I’ll get you something to drink when we get home,” he announced.
“I want some now.” She knew she sounded like a spoiled child, but she didn’t care.
“I don’t think you’ll like what they offer.”
Delilah looked back at the vending machine and focused on the bottles behind the glass. Bottles, small plastic bottles with red juice. Tomato juice?
Her instincts had been correct in the shower when she’d seen his eyes flash red. And she now understood why there was no mirror in the bathroom. If it was true that vampires didn’t reflect in mirrors then there was no need for him to have one. No wonder he hadn’t been able to be with her during the day. If he was a real vampire, he couldn’t be outside in sunlight without turning into ash.
When he and Amaury had stayed up with her all night, they hadn’t become tired. It was all so clear now. Even when he’d sent Carl out to buy some food for her, she’d bet that there hadn’t been one single edible item in the fridge before. The little signs had been there, but she hadn’t seen them or hadn’t wanted to see them. Even his tremendous strength when he’d kicked the gun out of the thug’s hand was probably because he was a vampire.
And whenever he’d carried her, it had seemed that he’d had to expense no strength at all, as if she was light like a feather, which she knew she definitely wasn’t. There were these few persistent pounds around her waist she could never quite get rid off.
I can’t get you pregnant.
Delilah suddenly remembered his words when he’d realized that the condom had ripped. So it was true: as a vampire Samson couldn’t father children. Why wasn’t she relieved about this? Shouldn’t she be glad that at least she wouldn’t already be pregnant and carry the spawn of a vampire? Strangely the thought of it filled her with regret rather than relief.
She suddenly remembered the strange dreams she’d had. The house she’d seen in her dreams was Samson’s, she was certain now. And the bite on her neck she’d dreamed of? Was this a warning of what was to come? Would he bite her one night in her sleep and drain her? If she was smart, she’d heed the warning.
When the car stopped at a red light, she was wondering why she didn’t make a run for it. She could easily open the car door and jump out. He wouldn’t know what hit him. She was fast and would be able to get away. It would be easy. She eyed the door handle and stretched out her hand.
“Please. Don’t run away.” Samson’s voice wasn’t a command, it was a plea. She met his gaze and noticed his eyes shimmer golden, the same way he’d looked when he’d made love to her in the morning. Delilah put her hand back into her lap and averted her eyes. He shouldn’t look at her that way. It was confusing as hell. She wished he’d flash his fangs again, so she’d have the courage to run, but when he looked at her that way, things didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. Would it ever again?
When he finally parked the car outside an Edwardian home, she knew they had reached their destination. He didn’t lead her through the main door, but instead showed her to a side door which led to the basement of the building. She hesitated at the door.
“Nobody will hurt you,” he whispered behind her. “I give you my word.” The word of a vampire. She had to be crazy to believe him, after all the lies she’d caught him in.
The blond bimbo at the receptionist’s desk barely gave her a second look and instead looked straight at Samson.
“He’s just finishing up with his last patient. It’ll be a couple of minutes.”
She pointed at the couch. Delilah made no move to sit, and Samson remained at her side. She looked around the waiting room. There were several comfortable chairs, a coffee table with newspapers … Did she see right? SF Vampire Chronicle one of the papers said. They had their own newspaper? She gave Samson a curious look and noticed that he’d been watching her.
“We do read, you know.”
Smartass!
She turned away from him and continued her perusal of the room, not in the mood to engage in any conversation. Her gaze stopped at the vending machine. She suddenly felt thirsty. Maybe she could get a bottle of water or some juice. When she took a step toward the vending machine, she felt Samson’s hand on her arm. She gave him an annoyed look, but he only shook his head slowly.
“I’ll get you something to drink when we get home,” he announced.
“I want some now.” She knew she sounded like a spoiled child, but she didn’t care.
“I don’t think you’ll like what they offer.”
Delilah looked back at the vending machine and focused on the bottles behind the glass. Bottles, small plastic bottles with red juice. Tomato juice?
