The Savakis Merger by Annie West Page A

Damon Savakis, if that was what it took.

    ‘Thank you, Callie.’ Damon accepted the cold drink, deliberately encircling her slim fingers.

    She jumped and sticky juice cascaded over their hands.

    Her nerves were frayed, he saw with satisfaction. Her touch-me-not composure crumbled after days playing hostess to him. The business could have been concluded in a few hours but Damon had let Manolis drag out discussions, since it meant having Callie at his beck and call.

    At first he’d thought she’d run. He’d been ready for a chase. Instead the hunt had become a slow siege, a war of attrition. With each day the flicker of hunger in his belly grew to a blaze as he sensed her defences weaken.

    She tugged her hand. Damon didn’t release her but got up from the poolside chair, fingers still wrapped around hers.

    ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, her gaze skating from his then back again. ‘I’ve spilled it. I’ll go and get a cloth.’

    ‘No need.’

    ‘But I—’

    ‘Let me.’

    He lifted their linked hands. Gold sparked in her sea-green eyes and beneath the high-necked silk top her breasts rose and fell rapidly. As rapidly as his shortened breathing.

    He shifted his hold and bent his head, licking the juice from her thumb, her forefinger, the sensitive V of flesh between them. A judder ran through her. Only his iron-hard grasp stopped her dropping the glass.

    Her taste was sweet and salt and feminine musk. The scent of her skin like summer. Instantly his hunger escalated to a desperate craving. Too late he realised his mistake. The taste of her sent him spinning out of control. He was rigid with the force of swelling desire.

    ‘Don’t. Please.’ Her voice was low but he couldn’t miss the quiver of unsteadiness.

    A bolt of something like guilt or even pity cleaved through him, making him frown. What had happened to the Callista he knew—all ice and fire? Her self-possession slipped and he glimpsed a different woman behind the façade.

    That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For her to surrender and admit she wanted him?

    Yet looking at her averted profile, reading the fine lines of strain around her mouth and the smudge of tiredness beneath her eyes, he knew a moment’s doubt.

    ‘Callie,’ he murmured, drawing her closer.

    ‘Callie, can you help? I—’ Angela’s voice came from the terrace and Damon turned as the younger girl approached. Her eyes were huge as she took in the pair of them. Belatedly Damon released his hold.
    Instantly Callie shifted away. ‘I’m sorry; I just wanted to check something.’

    ‘Hi, Angela. No need to apologise.’ Damon smiled. He liked the girl despite her puffed-up father. She reminded him of his youngest sister, timid with strangers but delightful.

    Callie hurried to Angela, drawing her away. She shepherded the younger girl, her arm raised as if to protect.

    Damon frowned. He’d seen that gesture before. It had taken this long for him to notice, for whenever Callie was near he didn’t think clearly.

    Now he watched and wondered, his brain clicking into gear. He recollected how regularly Callie appeared when he and Angela were alone. How she often sat between them.

    Why?

    The women conferred about a projected dinner party. As if aware of his regard, Callie raised her head and something sparked in her eyes. She excused them and ushered Angela ahead of her into the house.

    Could it be that, despite her hoity-toity attitude, Callie was jealous of the attention he gave her cousin?

    He turned and paced the length of the pool.

    Or had he been right the first time? Was she trying to protect her cousin?
    The idea nonplussed him.

    He’d never be a threat to a sweet girl like Angela. The girl was probably a virgin and far too young. He didn’t seduce innocents. Life was less complicated with lovers who understood long term relationships weren’t on his agenda.

    When the time came to think of marriage he…

    Damon stilled.

    Was that it? Aristides Manolis’