The Savakis Merger (10 page)

But that was only money. She’d find a way to pursue her dream, even if it meant years of delay. She would support herself and lay to rest the taunting echo of Alkis’ voice telling her she was good for nothing but show. He’d belittled her brains, her ability and almost succeeded in breaking her. But she’d prove him wrong. Prove her worth to herself.

The thought of Angela, trapped in a marriage that would destroy her happiness, her very soul, ripped Callie apart. And her aunt, diagnosed with a heart condition, who’d lose her home if the deal didn’t go ahead.

Callie had just discovered that bombshell this morning as she looked in on Aunt Desma. The results of the medical tests had come through. Her aunt put on a brave face, but the prognosis was serious. She needed quiet and professional treatment. Not to be uprooted from her home.

Not to deal with her husband’s volcanic temper if he lost everything.

It was the stuff of nightmares.

Guilt swirled inside her. She’d had the power to save them all, to placate the man who held their futures in the palm of his hand.

She’d failed them.

‘Callista!’ Her uncle’s voice echoed up from the vestibule. ‘There you are. Come here immediately. You’re needed.’ She peered over the railing to see him bustle back into his study.

Reluctantly she forced herself down the stairs. Was Angela’s marriage a fait accompli? Or had Callie’s actions last night scuppered the deal completely? If Damon was as incensed as she suspected, had he pulled the plug on the merger?

No, business would always come first with Damon. He wouldn’t let a woman get in the way of profits.

Her uncle turned as she reached the doorway. His brow was puckered but his unctuous smile sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine.

Damon had done it, then—announced his intention to wed Angela.

Callie’s stomach cramped so violently she grabbed the door to hold herself upright against the pain.

‘Come in, come in. It’s time you turned up. We’ve been waiting for you.’

‘For me?’ She stepped over the threshold and slammed to a halt when she saw his companion, leaning back in an easy chair. Damon Savakis, large as life and wearing an impenetrable expression.

‘Of course.’ Aristides Manolis seemed ill-at-ease. ‘Damon and I have sorted out the business side of things. But there are personal matters to be resolved.’

‘Personal?’ The word was torn from her lips. Surely that meant a wedding. Callie swung her head, searching for her cousin. The study was empty but for the men.

Damon’s mouth curved in a slow smile. Something hot and possessive flickered in his eyes.

The door closed behind her with a snick that sounded like the clang of a prison door.

DAMON watched Callie’s stiff posture and wary eyes.

Quite an act. She looked almost apprehensive.

As if she didn’t know her uncle had spent the last hour haranguing him about his intentions, trying to manoeuvre him into ‘doing the right thing’ by the woman he’d compromised.

Disgust rose as Damon thought of their cleverly orchestrated ploy.

He’d been genuinely remorseful for his behaviour last night. There’d been no excuse, not even the confusing welter of emotions Callie created inside him.

After a lifetime protecting the women in his family he understood how appalling his behaviour was. He’d spent a sleepless night berating himself for arrogance, stupidity, his bloody ego. To distress her so…

He’d arrived at the house early, needing to see her.

That was when he’d learned the whole scene had been a charade.

Manolis and his niece had set him up. Again.

Manolis had taken the tone of disappointed host and strict guardian.

He’d seen Callie enter the house last night. She’d been distraught, he’d said, adding a reference to her dishevelled state, her lack of jewellery and shoes.

It was a new experience for Damon, being wrong-footed by his own actions.

A niggle of conscience reminded him that, as far as the world was concerned, he’d acted reprehensibly. Society’s rules, his obligations as a guest, his own sense of honour all damned his behaviour.

Except Callie was no victim. Manolis had pulled out all the stops.

Throwing his daughter at Damon in hopes of a marriage to secure financial security. And, as back-up, a dirty little scheme of blackmail.

From the moment Callie had given herself to her tearful flight, it had all been a con to entrap him. She’d played the role of distressed victim last night.

Fury sizzled in Damon’s veins. He’d never been so gullible. He should have been more cautious dealing with an unscrupulous old fox like Manolis.

Instead he’d let desire cloud his judgement. In that their cheap ploy had worked.

His pride screamed for payback.

Damon interrupted Manolis as he wittered on about resolving the situation. Damon would resolve it, but not the way this pair intended.

‘I’ll talk to your niece alone.’

Manolis objected but Damon cut him short.

‘It’s too late for a chaperone.’ Damon met her snapping gaze and wondered if she’d ever been a naïve innocent. She was perfectly suited for the role of femme fatale. ‘Your niece is a widow, not an inexperienced teenager.’

Callie shut the door carefully behind her uncle. She pressed clammy palms to the wood, trying to centre herself. Between her uncle’s words and Damon’s steely glare, she felt dazed and cornered, her pulse tripping unevenly.

‘What game are you playing?’ She swung round to confront Damon where he slouched in an armchair.

One eyebrow rose indolently and her fingers curled into fists. She longed to shatter his superior air.

‘Game? You accuse me of playing games?’ Never had Damon looked so remote, yet Callie knew what she’d heard.

‘What’s this about us marrying?’

Her uncle couldn’t be serious. Just the words froze her blood.

Her stomach dived in distress. The sangfroid she’d clung to so desperately deserted her. She pushed away from the door and paced, unable to keep a lid on churning emotions.

‘What’s wrong, Callie? Having second thoughts? Or do you feel cheated I haven’t grovelled on one knee?’

Callie couldn’t imagine Damon grovelling. Yet the idea of him on his knees before her made her feel hot and unsettled. Abruptly she paced to the window.

‘I want to know what you’re up to!’

‘According to your uncle I’m satisfying honour and obligation by making an honest woman of you.’ His face was unreadable, his words sharp. Her eyes narrowed on his rigid shoulders and tight jaw.

‘It was Angela you talked of marrying.’

‘So it was.’ His expression didn’t alter.

Her hands curled into fists of frustration. ‘You don’t want to marry me!

You said so.’

He crossed one leg over the other, surveying her as she paced the room.

He said nothing.

‘I’m not—’

‘What? A virgin?’ He smiled and instantly fire sparked in her veins. ‘It’s not a prerequisite these days. Besides, our sexual compatibility is proven.’

‘There’s more to marriage than sex!’ She turned her back on his penetrating gaze and stalked to the window.

‘Ah, there speaks the expert. Tell me, is that what held your previous marriage together? Sex?’

Callie spun back, her hair flaring around her shoulders. ‘My marriage is none of your business,’ she hissed as poisonous memories swarmed to the surface. It was as if he knew all her weak points and delighted in prodding them. With every challenge, every snide remark, he stripped her bare and vulnerable.

‘You don’t even like me,’ she whispered, focusing on a point in the distance.

The walls pushed in. Claustrophobia choked her.

Marriage! To another controlling male! Over her dead body.

The sound of slow clapping jerked her round. Damon’s mouth twisted in a jeering smile as he straightened.

‘Congratulations, Callie. If ever you decide to work for a living you’d be a huge success on the stage. You got that distress and confusion just right.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Callie felt she was walking on sands that shifted beneath her feet.

‘Your display of reluctance is a little overdone. I know you and your uncle concocted this plot to snare a rich man to salvage the family fortunes. But I refuse to fall in with your plot.’

Callie frowned. ‘There was no plot.’

‘Your uncle just happened to be in the right spot at the right time to see you looking the picture of compromised virtue?’ His eyes flashed. ‘Give me credit for some sense.’

Numbly she shook her head. ‘I don’t want to marry you.’

‘Just as well. Marrying you is the last thing on my mind.’ He spat the words as if tasting poison.

Yet as she watched his expression changed.

‘But I want you, Callie.’ His voice vibrated with repressed passion. The stark hunger in his eyes sent incendiary sparks through her tense body.

‘And now I’ll have you. On my terms.’

‘Terms?’ It was a strangled whisper.

‘In my bed. But the stakes have just got higher.’

He couldn’t want her if he believed that of her. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘After the…inconvenience of your little farce, I’ve decided I want more than one night. You’ll be my mistress, at my beck and call, for as long as I desire.’

The sizzle in his eyes gave a whole new meaning to the phrase beck and call. The breath whistled from her lungs as his intentions sank in.

‘But my uncle—’

‘What? He’s old-fashioned enough to be distressed at the notoriety of his niece living as my mistress rather than my bride?’ His dark eyes snapped. ‘Tough. The pair of you should have thought of that before you tried to manipulate me.’

‘I didn’t—’

‘Don’t waste your breath, Callie. Those are my terms.’ He steepled his hands under his chin. ‘Accept them or face the consequences.’

Her limbs stiffened at the threat in his dark velvet tone. Her mouth dried. ‘What consequences?’

Damon uncurled his body from the seat and paced towards her. Each deliberate step reinforced the sensation she was being stalked. Backed against the window, she had nowhere to run. Her hands splayed on the cool glass behind her.

‘You think I’d let you make a fool of me then walk away unscathed?

You’re not that naïve. I can break your uncle like that.’ The click of fingers near her ear made her jump.

‘Refuse me and I ruin him in a hostile takeover. I owe the Manolis family nothing. On the contrary,’ his lips flattened to a grim line, ‘the Manolis debt to my family is too long outstanding.’

Callie’s eyes widened at the burr of deep-seated anger in his voice. He sounded, and looked formidable. She couldn’t doubt he meant every word.

‘Or,’ he continued, ‘I could temper my annoyance by taking sweet Angela for myself and leave your uncle at least the appearance of dignity.’ Damon thrust his head forward aggressively, obliterating her illusion of personal space.

‘Either way you lose. Your dear departed husband didn’t leave you more than a pittance and that’s already gone. Perhaps he’d discovered you weren’t an ideal wife.’

His sarcasm barely penetrated. Callie’s stomach hollowed as memories crowded. Of Alkis’ accusations and threats. Of the nightmare life she’d led, unable ever to satisfy her husband’s expectations.

‘You had me investigated?’ He must have, to know Alkis had left his money to his children by an earlier marriage. Callie had thought herself beyond outrage, but a new shaft of pain sliced through her. She felt violated, knowing some investigator had pried into her life.

Was there no end to this nightmare?

‘Only a cursory report into your current assets,’ he said as if invading her privacy was nothing.

‘Well,’ she drawled, summoning the last of her fading strength, ‘that’s all right, then.’

His bark of spontaneous laughter echoed round the room. ‘I see we understand each other.’ He placed one hand on the wall beside her head, blocking her in. His heat enveloped her; his warm breath caressed her forehead.

‘The time for playing is over, Callie. Come with me now, today. It’s your only choice.’

Panic gripped her as she felt her avenues of escape cut off. She had too much experience of ruthless men to doubt for an instant that Damon would deliver on his threats.

Last night she’d run, unable to give herself cold-bloodedly to him. But escape had been an illusion. She’d have to face even that mortifying ordeal. Her heart sank.

Callie shuddered at potent images of Damon demanding her submission, Damon making her body sing like an instrument tuned only to his touch.

At least Alkis hadn’t possessed her body. But with Damon there’d be no escape, no privacy. Instinctively Callie knew she couldn’t survive a long-term relationship with him. His will was too strong, her physical weakness for him like a Trojan horse planted deep within the last bastion of her defences. Who knew what damage her destructive craving would do to her fragile sense of independence and self-worth?

Her only hope was to keep this short-term.

Determination and weary acceptance seeped through her, strengthening her spine.

His face was close when she raised her head. So close her heart thudded as awareness rippled through her.

‘I have your word you’ll leave Angela out of this?’

‘You have it.’ A gleam in his eyes betrayed his pleasure. No doubt he was planning ways to enjoy her surrender. Callie repressed a shudder at the knowing, intent lick of heat in his gaze.