“Nice to meet you. I’m Delilah.” She shifted from one foot onto the other, feeling self-conscious about the fact that the men could see her bra. Her eyes looked for a safe place to pin her stare.

“Delilah? As in Samson and Delilah?” Ricky asked with a smirk on his face.

The guys chuckled. She caught how Amaury jabbed Ricky in the ribs with his elbow, apparently trying to shut him up.

“Yes, it’s Delilah.” What had one of the guys called her rescuer after she’d slapped him? Had she caught the name correctly? Could his name really be Samson?

“That’s a nice name.” Amaury’s compliment sounded as if he wanted to fill the uncomfortable silence with something, anything.

“Samson, there you are,” Thomas suddenly said, looking toward the stairs.

Delilah lifted her gaze and saw Samson walking down the steps. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

She shouldn’t be gawking, but she couldn’t stop herself even if her life depended on it. He was tall, well over six feet, and made a very impressive figure in his black pants and figure-hugging gray turtleneck sweater. His hips were slender, his shoulders wide, and he looked like he was no stranger to a gym. His dark hair was longer than was the fashion; it gave him timeless beauty. His hazel eyes demanded her full attention.

He glided down the stairs as if he owned the world, exuding a sense of confidence more strongly than anyone she’d ever encountered. With his every step, she felt drawn in by him even more, as if the closer he came, the less able she was to throw off the lines he was tossing out to reel her in. Yet, he was silent, not saying a single word as he approached.

Samson. The name suited him. This deadly sexy man had kissed her? What had she been thinking, pushing him away? Was she losing her mind? Obviously. There was no other explanation for it now. She knew what those lips could do to her, what those hands had awakened.

Just remembering those strong thighs pressed against her made her body temperature spike a few degrees. A few more seconds and she’d have a fever that was going to require medical attention. Or his attention. Preferably his attention, since a doctor could probably not help her with what she had: a severe attack of lust.

He stopped right in front of her, his gaze meeting hers. Delilah suddenly realized that she had been staring at him the entire time he’d made his way down the stairs. She was sure he had watched her examine him. Unable to tear herself away from him, she inhaled his purely masculine scent.

He handed her a stack of clothes, his hand accidentally touching hers as he did so, creating a spark of electricity in her.

“There is a guest bathroom at the end of the hall. Fresh towels are in the linen closet,” he said, his voice soft and gentle.

“Thank you.” Delilah felt her voice tremble, probably making her sound like a star-struck teenager.

As she walked down the hall to find the bathroom, she heard the men whisper, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. She glanced back before she entered the bathroom and found Samson looking at her. Those hazel-colored eyes had followed her every move.

Samson turned back to his friends when he saw her close the door behind her.

“You guys are such assholes sometimes. I don’t know why I keep hanging out with you,” Samson accused them before snatching his cell phone from the table. He speed dialed.

“It’s ‘cause you don’t have any other friends.” As so often, Ricky had to state the obvious.

His call was answered instantly.

“Carl, please bring the car ‘round in fifteen minutes.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thank you.” He disconnected the call and turned back to the gang.

“So, looks like things are looking up,” Thomas remarked pointedly, grinning from ear to ear.

“She’s human, you idiots!” Samson cursed under his breath, but loud enough for the gang to hear.

And the hottest thing I’ve ever touched.

“Well, we didn’t send her here.” Ricky threw up his arms in defense. “So, who is she?”

“How the hell should I know? She almost broke my door down, asking for help.”

“I can play that, if that’s what turns you on.” Samson doubted the stripper’s claim and ignored her.

“Okay, everybody to the kitchen, and leave me alone with her for a few minutes.”

“With me?” the stripper purred.

No chance. Samson frowned. “No, with the human woman, damn it.”

“Okay, okay.”

He watched them as they disappeared through the dining room and into the kitchen at the back of the house. Amaury’s palm had already connected with the woman’s ass. Samson shook his head. His friend hadn’t met a woman yet he didn’t like.