Delilah (A Dangerous Beauty Novel Book #3)

Angela Hunt

Description

A Complex and Compelling Glimpse at One of the Bible's Baddest GirlsLife is not easy in Philistia, especially not for a woman and child alone. When beautiful, wounded Delilah finds herself begging for food to survive, she resolves that she will find a way to defeat all the men who have taken advantage of her. She will overcome the roadblocks life has set before her, and she will find riches and victory for herself. When she meets a legendary man called Samson, she senses that in him lies the means for her victory. By winning, seducing, and betraying the hero of the Hebrews, she will attain a position of national prominence. After all, she is beautiful, she is charming, and she is smart. No man, not even a supernaturally gifted strongman, can best her in a war of wits.

Sujets

• Historical romance

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 07 juin 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781441269393
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2016 by Angela Hunt Communications, Inc.
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6939-3
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the Holy Scriptures, Tree of Life Version, Copyright (c) 2011, 2012, 2013 by the Messianic Jewish Family Bible Society. Used by permission of the Messianic Jewish Family Bible Society. “TLV” and “Tree of Life Version” and “Tree of Life Holy Scriptures” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark office by the Messianic Jewish Family Bible Society.
This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain historical figures are therefore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Cover design by Paul Higdon
Interior design by Paul Higdon and LaVonne Downing
Author is represented by Browne & Miller Literary Associates.
The DANGEROUS BEAUTY Series
Angela Hunt Presents The DANGEROUS BEAUTY Series
“The Hebrew text has two words that are typically used to describe personal appearance. One, yapeh , is rather mild and means ‘good looking.’ The other, tob , when applied to women’s looks, conveys sensual appeal. This woman is so beautiful that she arouses the desire of men who see her.”
—Sue Poorman Richards and Larry Richards, Every Woman in the Bible
Beauty does not always benefit the woman who possesses it. On occasion it betrays her, and at other times it endangers her, even to the point of death.
These novels— Esther , Bathsheba , and Delilah —are the stories of three tob women.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
The DANGEROUS BEAUTY Series
Epigraph
1. Delilah
2. Samson
3. Delilah
4. Samson
5. Delilah
6. Samson
7. Delilah
8. Delilah
9. Delilah
10. Samson
11. Delilah
12. Samson
13. Delilah
14. Samson
15. Delilah
16. Delilah
17. Samson
18. Delilah
19. Delilah
20. Delilah
21. Samson
22. Delilah
23. Samson
24. Delilah
25. Samson
26. Delilah
27. Samson
28. Delilah
29. Delilah
30. Samson
31. Delilah
32. Samson
33. Delilah
34. Samson
35. Delilah
36. Delilah
37. Samson
38. Delilah
39. Samson
Forty. Delilah
Forty-One. Samson
Forty-Two. Delilah
Forty-Three. Samson
Forty-Four. Delilah
Forty-Five. Samson
Forty-Six. Delilah
Epilogue: Delilah
Discussion Questions
Author’s Note
References
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
Epigraph
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it do singe yourself.
—William Shakespeare, Henry VIII
Chapter One Delilah
C IRCA 1200 BC
N O WOMAN SETS OUT TO BE WICKED . I’m not sure I can say the same thing about men.
At present only two men are my daily companions: Adinai, a kind Philistine businessman my mother married three months ago, and his son, Achish, whom I distrusted immediately. Adinai displayed nothing but compassion and thoughtfulness as he moved Mother and me from our home in Egypt to his spacious villa in Gaza. Achish, however, has never uttered a kind word in my hearing.
One particular day began like any other. I slept the morning away and woke as the sun reached its pinnacle. Zahra, my handmaid, brought a tray of bread and fruit to break my fast. As I nibbled on a melon slice, she reminded me that I was to accompany my stepbrother and stepfather to a banquet that evening. “I’ll be back later to help you dress,” she said, giving me a shy smile. “One does not visit the ruler of Gaza in everyday clothing.”
I thanked her, then picked up another melon slice and closed my eyes as the sweet juice ran over my tongue. Fruits like this always reminded me of Egypt. Even when we struggled to feed ourselves, Mama had managed to find fruit for our table.
I broke the small loaf on my tray, then felt the pressure of an intruder’s gaze. I lifted my head and saw Achish, my stepbrother, lounging in my doorway. Some girls might have considered him handsome, but beneath the curled hair and smooth skin, his eyes brimmed with an unattractive resentment.
“What do you want?” I asked, not bothering to disguise my irritation. Achish and I had agreed to despise each other almost as quickly as our parents decided to marry. “If you want food, I’m sure your servant will get something for you.”
His upper lip twisted. “I’m not interested . . . in food.”
I knew he wanted to engage me in some sort of argument, but I refused to take the bait. “Run along then. I have nothing for you.”
Anyone else would have scowled, but Achish gave me an oily smile and moved away.
I lowered my head to breathe deeply and calm my agitated heartbeat. Achish was a near-constant annoyance. Adinai had promised that we would be equals in the household, but Achish made little effort to hide his dissatisfaction with the current domestic arrangement. Mother kept saying that he would accept us in time, but she still viewed the world through the rosy haze of love. In six months, or twelve, I did not think she would be so tolerant of Achish’s rude behavior.
I finished my breakfast, then closed the drape over my door and moved to the washstand. I washed my face and rinsed my mouth and slipped into a clean tunic Zahra had hung on a peg. The Egyptian garment was simple, straight, and the color of washed sand, completely unlike the varicolored skirts worn by Philistine women.
I found my mother sewing in the sunny room that looked out onto a busy Gaza street. Wide windows at the north and south allowed the breeze to pass through, so it was the most pleasant room in the house.
I bent to kiss my mother’s cheek and then sat next to her. Achish, who had arrived before me, sat in the opposite corner, wearing a colorful tunic and a bored expression. Since he obviously found our presence distasteful, I wondered why he didn’t go out and visit one of his youthful cronies.
“About time you got up,” Mama said, a note of reproof in her voice. “Don’t forget you are to attend the ceren’s banquet tonight. I would like you to wear one of the full skirts Zahra made you. And ask her to braid your hair into something . . . more elaborate.” She beamed at me while I resisted the urge to groan. “You’ll be the loveliest girl there.”
I gave her the most pitiful look I could muster. “Surely you don’t expect me to attend the feast without you.”
She tilted her head toward the couch, where Achish reclined on one elbow. “Your brother will be with you.”
I refused to look at him. “But Achish will be with the men. If you don’t come, I’ll have to eat alone.”
“I understand that the ceren of Gaza has many daughters, so I’m sure you will dine with them.” Mama reached out and cupped my chin. “You worry too much, Delilah. You are going to give yourself wrinkles.”
I made a face, then tucked my legs beneath me and frowned at the prospect of an evening with people I didn’t know and with whom I had little in common.
Across the room, Achish caught my eye and smirked. At eighteen, he considered himself a man, so he would not do anything to ease my way. Adinai would do his best to make me feel comfortable because he was good and generous. But once we reached the ceren’s home, custom would demand that he and Achish join the men while I went in search of the women.
“Why won’t you come with me, Mama?” I muttered the words in a low whisper, not wanting Achish to realize how much I still depended on my mother.
“Delilah.” She stopped sewing. “You know why I can’t go. I don’t want to make things awkward for your father.”
“But,” I whispered, “if the people of Gaza cannot accept your black skin, what makes you think they will accept mine? I am nearly as dark as you.”
She resumed sewing, sliding her needle through beads she was adding to a garment. “You are young, dearest one, and so breathtaking that everyone will think of you as an exotic flower. Go out tonight with Adinai and Achish, have a good time, and make friends with the ceren’s daughters. I will wait here, and tomorrow you can tell me all about the big event.”
I blew out a breath and stood, walked outside, and wandered in the moon garden. Citrus blossoms perfumed the spring air, along with several varieties of white flowers. I would have been perfectly happy to spend the evening playing my harp here, but my stepfather had insisted Achish and I accompany him to the banquet. Mother had added that Achish and I would honor Adinai in different ways. I would honor him with my beauty, and Achish would reflect his father’s strength and vitality.
I cared little about honoring Adinai. I admired the man, but why should I worry about his reputation among his Philistine peers? So long as he left me alone and treated Mama kindly, I would be content.
“Mistress?” My handmaid’s voice filled the quiet of the garden, and I knew it would be futile to hide from her. In Adinai’s olive-skinned household, as in most of Gaza, Mother and I stood out like fleas on a linen sheet.
“Coming, Zahra.” I lifted my chin, took a deep breath of the fragrant air, and moved toward the gate.
Chapter Two Samson
“Y OU THINK SHE LIVES HERE ?” I studied the mud-brick building near the road. A stone wall enclosed the place, and animal troughs lined the wall. The perfect setup for an inn.
Rei, my manservant, crossed his arms and gave me a warning look. “Y