The Savakis Merger Page 17
‘What sort of interest?’
‘Your inheritance. You know there was some irregularity about accessing the funds your uncle managed.’
‘I know all the circumstances.’
‘Forgive me, but perhaps not all. The balance of your inheritance was topped up by Kyrios Savakis.’
What? Callie’s head spun.
‘Damon paid the money? Not my uncle? Are you positive?’
‘Completely. I understand he was eager to rectify the loss. Technically the money came via your family’s company, but the source was most definitely Kyrios Savakis. Of course, I didn’t divulge your personal circumstances but he was remarkably well-informed. He wanted to set things straight.’
The phone shook as Callie’s hand began to tremble.
Set things straight.
That was Damon’s specialty, wasn’t it?
She thanked her lawyer in an unsteady voice and hung up.
Damon had provided the inheritance her uncle had stolen. He’d gone to extreme lengths to help her establish her business in a place that almost guaranteed success.
Because he loved her?
She hiccoughed on a bubble of disbelieving laughter. No, not that. He cared for her, enjoyed intimacy with her, but he’d never spoken of anything long-term. It was she, so needy, who yearned for more.
He’d been furious when he learned of her past and guilt-ridden about the way he’d forced her into a relationship. She’d even wondered if his initial interest in her tiny business might be driven by the need to make up for his earlier attitude and show he wasn’t like her husband.
Had remorse driven him?
Set things straight.
That was how they’d met. Because he needed to make her family pay for what it had done to his. Settling the score.
Was he setting things straight now because he felt guilty about forcing her to be his lover? He’d been stunned by the truth of her circumstances.
He knew he’d hurt her, compounding the damage done by Alkis and her uncle.
She remembered Paulo’s words about Damon needing to fix things. His strong sense of responsibility.
Did Damon see her as a victim who needed protection? A problem to be recified?
Her heart squeezed as the suspicion grew. Was that behind his interest and support that she’d so treasured?
Damon felt sorry for her?
In the mirror her face was stark white, her lips a slash of scarlet that no longer looked sexy or alluring. Her mouth looked like a clown’s painted grimace.
She lifted her hand and wiped the lipstick off with the back of her hand.
It smeared like blood across her cheek.
‘Callie?’ A surge of anticipation quickened Damon’s step as he crossed the penthouse foyer. Energy sizzled through him, and, amazingly, a hint of nerves. He hadn’t been this excited since his first business coup.
Today was another red-letter day. An even more important one, if the tumult of adrenalin in his bloodstream was any indication.
He patted the small package in his breast pocket, assuring himself of its safety.
Everything was arranged.
He’d contemplated an intimate dinner for two in his apartment. Then he’d decided tonight was an occasion to be celebrated more traditionally. He smiled, thinking of his siblings and their families gathering now at his mother’s house, agog to hear his news. The scent of succulent home cooking would fill the air and the rich sound of laughter.
Callie would like that. And they would like her.
But first, a private celebratory toast. His housekeeper had assured him everything would be waiting as instructed.
He stepped into the sitting room and halted, his pulse revving as he saw the slim figure in red at the window, her back to him.
His heart crashed against his ribs then slowly took up a more normal pace. She did that to him every time.
Callie. His woman.
A burn of satisfaction warmed his belly. He was doing the right thing, there was no shred of doubt. His decision had been simple. She was the one he wanted.
His gaze swept the elegant room and he realised that without Callie it would be soulless and unbearably empty. Callie’s presence made it a home.
He shook his head. He had it bad.
So bad he didn’t even care!
Damon strode to the ice bucket that cradled a superb French vintage champagne. Swiftly he uncorked the bottle and poured the delicately hissing contents into waiting flutes.
Only then did she turn.
Damon smiled and held out a glass.
‘Here you are, glikia mou.’
Glittering eyes met his. He saw her tension, felt the quiver of her fingers as she accepted the glass. She’d sensed tonight was important. Had she guessed how important?
His eyes swept her long dress, gleaming ruby fire in the lamplight, tiny sparkles scintillating as she moved.
She’d dressed to please him. The knowledge pumped the blood faster in his arteries.
‘You look gorgeous. Good enough to eat.’ The rush of lust was inevitable. But for now he tamped it down. There’d be time later. All the time in the world.
His eyes rose to her face and he paused. Callie looked different. No lipstick. No glossy red to match her gown.
Because she knew he’d kiss it off? Damon eyed her lush pink mouth and realised he preferred her like this.
He took a step nearer, excitement building.
‘Callie mou,’ he murmured, his voice surprisingly husky.
He glanced at the wine in his glass, the tiny vibration on its surface betraying his unsteadiness.
Damon stood straighter, meeting her green stare with a smile that felt just a little ragged. He wasn’t used to being anything except totally in control.
‘We need to talk.’
‘Yes.’ She inclined her head fractionally and he was struck by her poise.
How it contrasted with his sudden ridiculous anxiety.
He hadn’t rehearsed what he’d say. He was a persuasive speaker and he knew what he wanted. It hadn’t entered his mind that finding the right words might be difficult. But then what practice had he at this? It was new territory.
‘About the future.’
‘Good.’ Her lips pursed. He watched her heft a deep breath and his gaze strayed appreciatively to her breasts. His hands itched to reach for her. ‘I wanted to talk to you too.’
She paused, her eyes skating away from his. ‘I’ve decided to leave.’
Damon watched her lips move, heard the words but couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
His heart lurched then began pounding triple time.
‘I can’t see the humour in your joke, Callie.’
She turned to stare out at the city lights, presenting her perfect profile. It looked carved out of cool marble.
‘I’m not joking.’ Her voice was a low whisper. She lifted her glass and drank. Not a delicate sip but a long draught, her throat working almost convulsively.
Blindly Damon reached to put his glass on a nearby table before it cracked under the pressure of his grip.
‘You’re not leaving.’
Women didn’t leave him, ever. He’d always been the one to end relationships. But more. This was Callie. The woman he’d selected for his own. The woman he wanted in his life permanently.
Wanted? He needed her.
He paced closer then froze as she shrank away from him.
His spine crawled as she turned to face him and he saw the blind look in her eyes. She looked…shattered.
‘Why? Because it doesn’t suit your plans?’ There was an edge to her voice he hadn’t heard in months. Not since they’d developed a rapport, an understanding. A relationship.
What was going on?
‘What’s happened, Callie? What’s wrong?’
‘It’s time to move on.’ Her chin tilted higher. ‘I don’t belong here. It doesn’t feel right.’
Feel right? It felt wonderful! She’d ch
anged his life and he couldn’t imagine it without her. Didn’t want to try.
‘I won’t let you go.’ The words shot out before he had time to consider them. He was functioning on raw gut instinct as he reached out and curled a hand round her slim waist. Nothing felt so right as holding Callie.
‘I thought you’d given up threatening me.’ The tiny hitch in her voice was like a blow to his belly.
‘Callie! There’s no threat. Don’t you trust me?’ He’d worked so hard to overcome the damage he’d done. Worked to build her trust in him after his earlier reprehensible actions. He thought they’d moved past that, even though guilt still scored him for the way he’d treated her.
Again she lifted her glass and swallowed. ‘As much as I trust any man.’
Her words speared his conscience.
‘Callie mou…’ he sidled closer, slipping his arm round her ‘…you can trust me.’
Tension vibrated through her body.
‘You’re a good man, Damon. But I don’t belong here. I don’t belong with anyone. I prefer to live alone.’
‘You don’t mean that.’ He took the glass from her hands and put it down. Then he wrapped his arms round her and pulled her stiff body towards him, revelling in her softness against him. ‘We’re good together, Callie. You know we are.’
‘Sex.’ She shrugged and turned her head to avoid his kiss. Instead his lips grazed her ear. Instinctively he bit gently on her lobe and felt her shiver in response.
‘See how you respond to me?’ Triumph stirred in his belly. ‘You don’t really want to live alone.’
‘I’m tired of being your mistress, the woman who’s not even good enough to meet your family. I’m one of the enemy, remember? A Manolis.’
‘That’s not true!’ How had she got it so wrong? ‘They don’t think like that. I was the one intent on retribution, not them. As for not being good enough, you couldn’t be more wrong.’ He thought of his siblings gathering to welcome her.
‘There just never seemed a right time…’ His words petered out as he realised she was right; he’d kept her from his family. At first because he didn’t trust her, then out of habit. He never paraded his short-term lovers before his mother. Then, as he’d become more absorbed in his feelings for her, he was too greedy to share her. He’d wanted Callie all to himself.
Until now, when he’d finally realised how important she was to him.
That she was the one woman he would introduce to his mother.
Callie’s hands pressed at his chest, trying to push him back. But it was only as he saw her blink back tears that he relented and stepped away.
His arms dropped to his sides, empty without her.
‘That doesn’t matter,’ she murmured, clearly lying. He felt her hurt and cursed himself for his stupidity. ‘What matters is that I don’t want to stay indefinitely till you feel I’m able to stand on my own two feet.’
She wrapped her arms around herself as if cold. ‘I’m quite capable of looking after myself.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Frustration filled him and the need to understand.
Her hair swirled round her as she shook her head, her face growing animated. It blazed with an anger that made her eyes shimmer jewel-bright. ‘I’m not some charity case, Damon. I realise your intentions are good but I don’t need pity from any man.’
‘Pity? It’s not pity I feel for you.’ It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out exactly how he felt. But the look on her face stopped him.
She wasn’t ready to hear. Not yet. She still didn’t trust him, so why would she believe him?
Callie stared up at his wrinkled brow and the grim lines around his mouth. No. He really didn’t understand. He’d only tried to help her. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t love her.
Suddenly her anger seeped away. She was tired. So very weary.
‘I know how you interfered in my affairs.’
That stopped him in his tracks. His head reared back.
‘I owe my inheritance to you.’
‘You were entitled to it. And I could easily cover the sum.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of openness.
He’d looked just the same all those weeks ago talking to Paulo about endowing a charity. He’d seen the need and he had the cash. Of course he’d step in to fix the problem. That was the sort of man he was.
Generous and with an overactive instinct to protect. To set things right.
Except she wasn’t a charity. She was a woman in love with a man who saw her as a problem to be fixed. The knowledge seared a hole in her chest, making it hard to breathe.
She didn’t want Damon as a benefactor.
She wanted him as her equal.
‘And the cheap rent in your new building?’
His gaze flickered. Obviously he hadn’t expected her to find out about that. ‘The place is perfect for you. It seemed a crime not to help you start up there.’
‘But I have to do it myself. Don’t you see that?’
If just once he’d say he’d acted out of love for her, because she was special, the woman for him…but that was wishful thinking. He’d acted to give her a new start after discovering the hurdles she had to overcome.
‘You won’t accept my help?’ He drew himself up straighter, the distance suddenly yawning between them.
She shook her head. ‘It’s not about help.’
‘So perhaps it’s about control,’ he murmured. ‘You said your husband was a control freak. What exactly did he do?’
Callie frowned, not following his train of thought. ‘I don’t understand.
That’s not relevant.’
‘Won’t you tell me?’ The sincerity in his voice, the tenderness in his eyes undid her resolve. Even now he cared. He wanted to remedy the past.
Whereas she wanted to forget the past and build a future.
Pity the only future she could visualise was a fantasy, with Damon by her side.
She sighed and Damon tensed at the pain on her face.
‘Alkis always set limits. People I couldn’t see, places I couldn’t go. I lost count of the design classes and small business groups I joined only to find I had to withdraw. It was no longer convenient or we were taking an extended trip, or he was unwell and needed me. Always some excuse.’
‘You could have gone anyway.’
She shook her head. ‘He’d have found out and life would have been unbearable. He always knew where I was. Over dinner he’d quiz me about people I’d met that day, people who’d spoken to me.’ She looked up and saw Damon’s frown. ‘He had me watched all the time, reports made on my movements. There wasn’t a thing he didn’t know about.’
Damon wished her husband wasn’t dead so he could take him apart piece by piece. The damage Alkis had caused with his twisted desire for control was appalling. No wonder Callie was desperate to assert her independence.
What damage had Damon done?
Unwittingly he’d tapped into a vein of ingrained vulnerability. Nothing he did now could convince her he wasn’t like her bastard husband. He’d tried to help but she thought he’d taken control of her life.
Damon swore under his breath, cursing his drive to act decisively.
Should he have held back and consulted her?
He winced, knowing the answer.
‘You think I’m like him.’ He turned and paced the room.
He’d taken for granted Callie trusted him. More, that she reciprocated his feelings.
Had he pushed her so far he’d lost her for good?
‘No! Of course you’re not.’
But the misery was clear on her face, in the way she wrung her hands.
Her pain belied her words.
He wanted to sweep her up and cosset her and caress her and make love to her till she forgot her pain. And he could. He knew even now that he could overcome her scruples and seduce her with his loving.
But the pleasure would only be temporary. Sooner or later she’d turn those sad eyes on him again.
She frowned as if he spoke a foreign language.
‘What can I do to make you trust me?’
‘I trust you, Damon, I just…’
Don’t love you?
Don’t want you controlling my life?
Can’t live with you?
Damon had never felt so helpless. So desperate.
‘Then tell me what I can do. What will make a difference?’
He’d do anything. If there were dragons to slay he’d conquer them. He’d fight battles for her, overcome any obstacles. His only hope lay in proving to her he was the one man she could trust with her life.
Her mouth twisted and she shook her head.
‘You can let me go.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘THE new stock I mentioned has come in. Over on that wall.’ Callie smiled at one of her best customers then moved away, letting the woman and her companion browse in peace.
It was almost the end of another long day and she was exhausted. Not from physical tiredness. She still got a thrill of pleasure from her work.
It was emotional strain that made her feel like a wrung-out rag.
Five months, three weeks and six days since she’d seen Damon.
With each day she grew more needy, hungrier for a glimpse of the man who’d dragged all her skeletons from where they hid in her cupboard, who’d made her face her greatest fears. The man who’d infuriated her and challenged her and disrupted her life.
Who’d supported her and listened to her and given her peace as well as pleasure.
The man she’d rejected because she was too proud to settle for anything less than his love. Because with him she’d finally convinced herself dreams might come true. And her dream was Damon—loving her.
Her heart plummeted. Now she had the independence and the opportunity she’d fought for so long. It was wonderful, satisfying and challenging. Proof that she was capable. That she was worth more than Alkis or anyone else, herself included, had thought possible.
But independence wasn’t enough. Not now she’d had a taste of life with Damon.
She was greedy enough still to dream of what might have been. If only he’d loved her.
He must have cared for her a little, to go to so much trouble on her behalf. But being pitied and propped up was no life for her. To be cared for because he felt sorry for her—that would have destroyed her.