Page 29 of Samson

“Nothing. Am I not allowed to have a break?”

“Don’t play coy with me. I see all in my restaurant. Did Samson say something to you that I should be aware of?”

“No. Samson did what Samson does. I shouldn’t have been surprised.”

“Don’t tell me you’re taking an interest in him.”

“No. That’s not what that was.”

“Then what was it?”

“I told you it was nothing. He looked distressed. I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“Why?”

“I’m asking myself that same question. It was a stupid thing to do. It won’t happen again.”

“What’d he say?”

“He wanted me to go home with him to make him feel better.”

Luca laughed. “Of course he did.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking. Obviously not much.” But she did know what she’d been thinking. She had begun to wonder if his confidence was an act, and she’d wanted to see if she could find the man underneath it all, only to discover there wasn’t any. “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh, right. No, I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Girls have a thing for broken men. You all want to fix them. I’m surprised you fell for it.”

“I didn’t fall for anything. I saw something that wasn’t there. That’s all.”

“If it’s no big deal, then why are you hiding back here?”

“I’m not hiding. I’m taking a break. It’s been a long night.”

“If you say so.”

Chapter 8

Samson parkedhis car across the street from the Turkish embassy. It was surrounded by a fence with “keep out” signs, letting the world know that nothing was going on inside except renovations. Unless you knew better.

He’d followed Marc here and watched him go through the gate. Two men guarded the entrance. Not workmen by the look of them. It would be hard to get inside without being invited or noticed. He was good, but he couldn’t make himself invisible.

His thoughts drifted back to his last encounter with Delilah. It was an unusual and uncomfortable experience. It had been a long time since anyone had been genuinely concerned about him. Especially a woman.

Trevors had been worried about Samson getting cocky, but if he knew what was going on in Samson’s head right now, he’d probably tell him his careless surveillance of the embassy was due to unresolved hurt from the experience that was causing reckless behavior. And maybe he would be right in one way. Samson wouldn’t mind a fight. His pent-up aggression was sitting close to the surface.

While he waited, he looked over the blueprints he’d gotten of the building. He liked to memorize as much of the intel as he could. Going back to the file for details caused delays.

When he looked back at the building, a man in an expensive suit exited the gate.

“Burak Demir,” Samson said, watching as Demir spoke to the guards, who nodded in Samson’s direction.

He buttoned his suit jacket, then crossed the street to Samson, knocking a knuckle on the window when Samson grinned at him through it.

He buzzed down his window. “Is there a problem?”

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