The Savakis Mistress. Annie West
mouse who couldn’t even look at him without blushing? Under her father’s watchful gaze she stumbled into halting conversation of the blandest sort. Then Manolis began blathering about the importance of family connections, of trust between those who had personal as well as commercial interests in common.
Damon’s lips firmed. So that was the way the wind blew. Manolis hoped Damon would fix his interest on his host’s daughter.
The man was mad.
Or, perhaps, more desperate than he’d realised. Did he know Damon intended to dismantle his company?
Damon’s gaze flicked to Callista. If their passion had meant anything she couldn’t be happy about her uncle’s matchmaking plans. Yet she looked regal and unruffled, if a trifle stiff. Her message was clear: she’d had her little adventure but now it was over.
Had she acted on her own behalf when she offered herself to him today? A rich woman looking for a tumble with what she thought was a working-class lover? His mouth tightened in distaste. He’d met the sort years ago.
Or had Aristides Manolis planned her convenient visits to the isolated cove?
The notion had been at the back of Damon’s mind from the moment he’d found her here, glittering from head to toe like some provocative Christmas gift. The suspicion had made him lash out at her when he arrived, even as he crowded close, unable to keep his distance.
Had Manolis discovered Damon’s early arrival to enjoy a low-key, incognito break while recuperating from flu? Had Manolis decided to soften him up before the negotiations began, using his niece as bait? It was the sort of underhand ploy he’d expect from a man like him.
If so, Manolis had miscalculated badly. While she didn’t mind slumming it with a stranger for hot sex, obviously her aristocratic pride revolted at having to socialise publicly with a man with working-class roots.
Anger seethed beneath Damon’s skin.
Had she bartered her favours to help her uncle, just as she’d bartered her body for a rich husband?
Disgust was a pungent bitterness on Damon’s tongue.
Manolis was desperate. Soon Damon would take over the Manolis family company, lock, stock and barrel. The notion warmed the part of his soul that, despite his enormous success, could never quite let go of the past.
There would be satisfaction in crushing Aristides’ pretensions and obliterating him commercially.
He was minded to leave and delegate the negotiations to his lawyers. Only curiosity had prompted him to come. He remembered the awe with which his parents had spoken of the Manolis family that employed his father and grandfather. The company that had finally destroyed them.
Times had changed and the mighty had fallen. Now Damon was the powerful one, the man whose word could make or break this family.
Nothing he’d seen tonight made him feel anything but contempt for his hosts.
And yet…he looked at Callista, felt the slide of her cool gaze glance off his face as she turned to her cousin. Her lips tilted in a half-smile that made his stomach tighten and his breath catch.
Whatever her motives, she’d used him, played him for a fool.
His male pride demanded satisfaction. Damon Savakis was used to calling the shots, not being manipulated.
Yet even now his body hungered for hers with a raw, aching need. This wasn’t over. It couldn’t be over while he still felt this tide of desire.
He decided in that moment to accept Manolis’ offer of hospitality and stay on. Not because the commercial negotiations demanded his presence.
It was business of a much more personal nature he intended to pursue.
CHAPTER THREE
‘WHAT do you mean my trust fund is frozen? It can’t be.’ Only by a supreme effort did Callie keep her voice steady as she stared at her uncle across his over-sized desk. ‘I inherit the day I reach twenty-five. That’s today.’
He didn’t meet her eyes.
That was a bad sign. Usually Aristides Manolis bullied his way out of answering awkward questions. The fact that he didn’t attempt it this time set alarm bells ringing. Plus he’d gone to such lengths to avoid a private conversation all week. Finally he’d summoned her to his study after they’d farewelled Damon Savakis.
She shivered despite the sultry air wafting through the open windows. Damon Savakis was someone she didn’t want to think about.
Her nerves were raw from an evening of stilted conversation with the man who’d alternately treated her with polite condescension and devoured her with his gaze. The man she’d actually trusted for a few short hours.
‘On your birthday, that was the plan,’ her uncle said, shifting a silver letter opener. ‘But circumstances have changed.’
Callie waited, every instinct alert. But he refused to continue.
‘No, Uncle. Not a plan. It’s the law.’ She took a calming breath. ‘My parents set up the trust when I was a baby. Today I inherit the estate they left me.’
She had precious little left of her parents. Memories and a well-worn photo album. When she’d come to live with her Greek relatives, a grief-stricken fourteen-year-old from the other side of the world, her uncle had brusquely informed her that her parents’ home would be sold with its contents. It was an unnecessary luxury, he’d declared, storing furniture. Better to plough the proceeds into the fund she’d inherit.
Callie had arrived with only a suitcase and her new lime-green backpack. The one her mum had bought for the sailing holiday they’d planned.
A jagged shaft of pain shot through her, drawing her up straight. Even now memory of that loss had the power to hurt.
‘You’ll get your inheritance, Callista. It will just take time to organise. I had no idea you’d be in such a rush to access the funds.’ His voice had a belligerent, accusing ring. ‘What about the money Alkis left you?’
‘Alkis left his fortune to his children, as you well know. I’m sure that was covered in your negotiations over my marriage.’ A tinge of bitterness crept into her voice. She cleared her throat, determined not to get sidetracked. ‘What was left I spent paying his debts. Which is why I want to sort this out. I need the money.’
Callie had plans for her future but she needed her money to achieve them. She’d sell the last of her gaudy jewellery when she left here and put the cash to good use, starting a small retail business. She’d make her own decisions and run her life without interference.
She’d learned her lesson. The only way to be happy was to rely on no one but herself. She knew what she wanted and nothing was going to stop her achieving her goal.
For the first time in years she felt energised and excited, looking forward to the challenges, hard work and satisfaction of building something of her own.
‘Perhaps I should just call the family lawyers and—’
‘No!’ The word was a bellow that made her pulse jump. Her uncle wrenched his tie undone and slumped back in his chair. ‘You were always headstrong and difficult. Why can’t you wait instead of badgering me about this?’
Years of practice kept Callie’s face impassive though her blood boiled. Headstrong! Over the years she’d allowed the men in her life to lead her from one hell into another. If anything she’d been too submissive, too stoic. She’d had enough, starting now.
‘Clearly I’m distressing you, Uncle,’ she said in her coolest tone. ‘Don’t disturb yourself. I’ll go to Athens tomorrow and sort out the legalities myself.’
There was something akin to hatred in his glare. ‘It won’t do you any good. There’s nothing there.’
Callie felt the blood drain from her face. Her uncle never joked,