The Savakis Merger (18 page)

She didn’t understand him. She’d thought him cruel, relentless, motivated only by a desire for revenge and a taste for sensual pleasure.

But there was more to his character.

Donating to charity didn’t make him a saint. Alkis had supported charities, but on the advice of accountants, only to minimise tax. Never because he was moved by their cause.

She watched Damon walk back aboard and felt an overwhelming need to understand him. To know where she fitted in his world.

‘What did Paulo mean about you trying to set the world to rights?’

He paused then sauntered across the room.

‘Paulo exaggerates.’ He met her enquiring gaze and she knew he wasn’t going to elaborate. Instead the look in his eyes was intent, making her feel suddenly too warm, too vulnerable.

She hurried into speech. ‘You were pleased with today’s lunch? With your meeting?’

In her experience men were easily distracted by what interested them most—their plans to increase profits and prestige. If today’s lunch was any indicator, Damon had reason to smile.

He shrugged and she couldn’t help but follow the movement of his rangy shoulders.

‘The discussions went well. It made a pleasant change to meet on board rather than in an office. Plus there was a lot of interest in this latest cruiser design.’

His nod encompassed the vast cabin with its aura of wealth. From the impossibly plush carpet to the exquisite marquetry woodwork, sleek, modern design and equipment, the room was the perfect setting for a billionaire.

Yet Callie remembered how Damon had looked, his hair rumpled by a sea breeze, his feet bare on the decking of Circe. As if he belonged. As if he enjoyed the unfettered freedom and simplicity of the grand old yacht.

Part of her hankered to experience that moment again. She’d felt for a short, incredible time that, with Damon’s support, she might even conquer her fear of sailing.

‘How about you, Callie? Did you enjoy yourself?’ His question took her by surprise. He sounded genuinely curious.

‘It was fun. They’re nice people.’ She’d enjoyed herself more than at any social engagement during her marriage.

What was different? The people? Damon’s friends had none of the brash self-importance of Alkis’ cronies. And the man at her side? With Alkis she’d always felt restricted, judged, undercut by his disapproval. With Damon…

‘You were a hit today,’ he murmured, his expression intimate. ‘The men in particular were impressed and very jealous of me.’ His smile was all male triumph.

Her mouth primmed as a cold, all too familiar weight dropped in her chest.

So that was why he’d invited her. She should have known.

He’d invited her to be his hostess, to entertain the women while the men discussed business then help him look after their guests over lunch.

She’d felt a spurt of pleasure that Damon valued her assistance. He must have some respect for her, even if only for her social skills.

How pathetic to cling to such a crumb!

The gleam in his eyes told its own story. Things weren’t so simple. She remembered the quickly veiled interest in several pairs of masculine eyes today, and the way the single men went out of their way to engage her attention.

Damon had been playing a game of one-upmanship, displaying his latest acquisition. His mistress.

The metallic tang of disappointment filled her mouth.

She should have guessed. To him she was a possession. For a while, enjoying a discussion with the women about house design and furnishings, she’d almost forgotten.

Damon didn’t want her for her mind or personality. It was her body—

the way it looked and how it could satisfy his needs—that counted.

‘I think Rafael would have tried to steal you away if given half a chance.’

Damon’s eyes bored into her, waiting for her reaction. What did he expect? Pleasure? Excitement?

He moved in a world where rich men acquired and dropped beautiful lovers on a whim. Where women prowled for wealthy protectors and men held ultimate power.

Her stomach churned. She’d had a taste of independence when Alkis died but now she was caught again in that net of male domination.

‘You were the most beautiful woman here.’

Callie raised her eyebrows.

She had no illusions about her appearance. Her eyes were nice but her mouth was too wide and her nose too long. Only good posture prevented her looking gangly, despite her curves. Most of her allure was artificial—clothes, attitude, bearing. Her eye for colour and design helped her create an illusion of beauty.

For six years she’d been a possession displayed to prop up her husband’s ego and even, she’d discovered later, to lure potential targets for his commercial plans.

She’d been paraded, slavered over and treated like a brainless mannequin. The memories were bitter and raw.

The last thing she needed was compliments on her looks.

She spun on her heel, pacing to the sideboard and the champagne flute she’d barely touched. Swiftly she tilted the crystal to her mouth and swallowed. Effervescent bubbles cascaded over her lips and burst on her tongue. They obliterated the taste of disappointment, though they couldn’t quench her simmering resentment.

A few months of freedom and she’d foolishly allowed herself to forget her place in a rich man’s world.

‘Are we celebrating?’ Damon’s warm velvet voice caressed her bare neck. A shiver rippled across her skin as she registered the invitation in his tone. He stood so close his heat encompassed her. His musky salt scent invaded her space.

His lips brushed her nape once, twice and she melted. Despite her fury she trembled at his caress.

The flute landed on the wood with a click.

‘No. I was just thirsty.’

A hand on her arm made her turn.

She found herself skewered by a dark, unrelenting gaze that sliced to the core of her.

‘What’s wrong, Callie?’

‘I may be your mistress, but I don’t like being made to feel cheap.’

‘Cheap?’ His eyes narrowed and he stepped close, filling her personal space with his big body, his spicy scent, his vibrating anger. ‘Someone insulted you? Who was it?’

Callie shook her head, taken aback by his sudden wrath. He looked positively dangerous.

‘No one.’ She backed a fraction to find herself jammed up against the sideboard. ‘I meant the way you invited me here just to show me off as your latest plaything.’

Damon’s eyes sparked fire but his words were soft. ‘You think that’s why I invited you?’

‘Why else? Up till now my place has been in your bed. Now you’re busy gloating over how jealous your friends are.’

‘You read all this from my comment about them admiring you?’ He frowned.

She lifted her shoulders in a tight shrug. ‘It’s how men are.’

‘Not this man.’ It was a muted growl that made the hairs on her arms prickle. ‘I don’t need the jealousy of others to prop up my ego.’ He thrust his face forward till his banked fury enveloped her. ‘You’re confusing me with someone else.’ There was no mistaking his sincerity, or that he felt insulted. ‘Your husband perhaps?’

Callie looked away. The memory of Alkis and his controlling ways was still too strong.

‘I don’t discuss my marriage.’ Pushing that hurt aside was the only way she’d kept going.

‘Yet you judge me because of his behaviour. Is that it?’

Callie kept her gaze fixed on the view of the harbour, intimidated by his righteous indignation.

‘Didn’t it occur to you that I invited you because I wanted you with me?

Because I like having you beside me?’

Startled, Callie froze.

‘Because I thought my guests would enjoy your company, which they did. And because I thought you’d enjoy theirs.’

Slowly she turned her face up to his.

He looked angry. Impatient. Sincere.

‘You look for insults where there are none.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, thrown by his intensity, feeling guilty and foolish at her suspicions. ‘I enjoyed today. Thank you. Especially meeting Paulo and Mariana. They have such a strong relationship.’

He tilted his head to one side. ‘You sound surprised.’

Callie’s lips twisted ruefully. ‘Happy marriages are a rare commodity.’

‘Including yours?’

She sighed. He just didn’t give up. ‘Including mine.’ Callie sidestepped, gaining precious space. She didn’t want to talk about Alkis. ‘It’s nice to see a couple so devoted.’

‘My parents were like that.’ Damon surprised her with the personal observation. ‘And my siblings are all happily shackled.’

‘You sound very close.’ Maybe if she’d had a sister or brother she’d still have that sort of special bond with someone who loved her.

Damon stepped nearer. ‘My sisters say too close. That I’m overprotective, that before they married I always tried to arrange their lives.’

‘Whereas now you have to divert your energies into saving stray dogs?’

Or settling an old score with the family who’d wronged his. Was that what Paulo had meant about him ensuring things turned out right?

‘Not all my energies.’ His voice was a silken skein of suggestion as he stroked her cheek, brow and lips.

Instantly Callie’s eyelids lowered and she swayed close, drawn by the desire that pulsed between them. Each time it was the same—something she couldn’t fight. A hunger that fed on itself, growing stronger by the day.

‘I should go.’ Her voice was husky. ‘I have an appointment in the city.’

She needed to prove to herself that she retained some shred of self-control.

His hand stilled. ‘An appointment?’

‘With my lawyer. I’d prefer not to be late.’

‘Ah, I thought you’d dressed conservatively.’ He gestured to her honey-beige suit, aquamarine camisole and high heels. ‘But I like it.’ His smile sent her pulse racing. His hand dropped to her lapel, sliding along the fabric.

‘Is there some legal problem?’ His question surprised her. She shrugged, half her attention on his wandering hand.

Today’s meeting was to discuss her non-existent trust fund. She’d heard nothing from her uncle about her inheritance and her calls to Angela had centred on Aunt Desma. At least in that respect there was good news. The doctors had hopes she’d respond well to medication.

‘Nothing I can’t handle.’

Impenetrable eyes surveyed her so thoroughly she felt as if he stripped bare all her secrets.

‘When is the appointment?’ The liquid heat in his eyes told her he had plans for the afternoon that didn’t include meeting with lawyers.

‘In less than an hour.’

Damon’s hand dropped, feathering past her breast in a stealthy caress that caught her breath. He stepped back.

‘All right, then. Let’s go. I’ll drop you.’

His withdrawal stunned her. She’d expected him to ignore her plans and seduce her. Here. Now.

Disappointment fizzed.

He extended an arm and waited till she reluctantly tucked her arm in his.

For one instant she experienced a mad urge to lean against his solid bulk and blurt out her problems, as she had that day on his yacht.

Then logic kicked in, a savage blow to the solar plexus that sucked the air from her lungs.

Damon Savakis was her problem.

Damon strode quickly to the bedroom.

‘Callie?’ Still that fillip of excitement got him whenever he came home.

‘Callie?’ He entered the master suite and paused, disappointment crashing into him when he found it empty. She wasn’t as he’d fantasised, in the sunken tub, waiting for him.

Since they’d moved to his Athens apartment she spent most days out on business of her own. She wasn’t exactly secretive but she didn’t offer information and after the little he’d gleaned about her marriage he didn’t push. She was opening up to him only slowly.

He knew her spark of extra animation coincided with her trust fund becoming available.

He smiled. It was good to see the way she’d blossomed. She’d been gorgeous before, but now, with this inner glow of excitement, she was irresistible.

Damon headed down the hall. Maybe she was in the room she’d converted into an office. He knocked. Silence. He hesitated. He’d never entered the private space where her belongings were stored.

Finally he turned the handle. It wouldn’t be the first time she hadn’t heard him because she was listening to earphones. There was that memorable time in his private gym. She’d been working out in tight shorts and a skimpy top, oblivious to his arrival, and he’d…

Damon stopped as the door swung open.

He had a hazy memory of the room as it been, designer-styled cream chic.

The memory vanished as vibrant colours caught his eye, lush, rich and inviting. He frowned, feeling a difference in the atmosphere.

Stepping into Callie’s room was like stepping into another world. One alive with her presence.

The pristine monochromatic style of his modern apartment suddenly seemed soulless as he gazed around this space.

The bed was pushed into the corner to make space for a massive draughtsman’s desk. The cream coverlet was piled with cushions in purples, greens and blues that made him think how much he wanted to make love to her here.

More cushions beckoned on a low sofa. On a glass coffee-table was an arrangement of lilies, their scent reminding him of Callie’s skin as they made love, sweet and musky.

On the walls were a series of…he didn’t know the word. Hangings?

Embroideries? Massive artworks of fabric and beads in the colours of the sea. They depicted the ocean in moods ranging from pearly calm to steely grey and dangerous, all finished with exquisite stitching.