The Savakis Merger Read Free Page B

corner as he blocked her view of the room, separating her from the others. His heat enveloped her. Callie’s nostrils flared as a familiar scent reached her: all male, all too evocative.

    ‘So we meet again, Callista.’ His whisper was pitched for her ears alone.
    Yet in that thread of sound she heard the echo of smug satisfaction.

    She raised her eyes to meet his then wished she hadn’t. They blazed like a dark inferno, scorching her face, her throat, her breasts, in an encompassing survey that told her he remembered this afternoon in vivid detail.

    ‘You’re obviously a very versatile woman. What role are you playing tonight?’ Disapproval frosted his gaze and his words, making her shiver.

    Callie faltered at the unexpected attack. ‘What do you mean?’

    He shrugged but the intensity of his stare belied the casual gesture. He watched her like a hawk sighting a fieldmouse. ‘From wanton to well-bred society girl in an afternoon.’ His lips pulled back in what might be a grimace of distaste. ‘You look like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.
    But just a few hours ago you were seducing a total stranger. Are you always this adaptable?’

    Callie’s vocal cords jammed at his calculated insult. It was true what he said, and yet…after what they’d shared, how could he be so disapproving? Why?

    She hadn’t been the only one hot and eager down on that beach. How dared he judge her?

    ‘As adaptable as you, Kyrie Savakis.’ The words nearly choked her.

    For an endless moment their eyes meshed. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and she jerked her gaze away, only to find her attention snagging on his hand as he held the wine goblet out to her. He had a workman’s hands.
    Long-fingered but capable, powerful. His grip on the delicate glass should have seemed incongruous. Yet nothing could be further from the truth.

    He slid his index finger up the fragile stem then down again. Her mouth dried as she remembered the way he’d touched her nipples with that same finger. The way darts of sensation had rayed out from his touch, making her squirm with delight. The way she’d moaned into his mouth as he’d caressed her and discovered her intimate secrets.

    Watching the slow, deliberate movement, feeling the heat of his scrutiny on her flesh made her feel vulnerable. Naked.

    Impossible that her body should betray her so. Disgust filled her.

    Hurriedly she took the glass from his hand, careful not to brush his fingers. She pushed a tumbler of whisky along the bar towards him.

    He was too quick, his hand closing around the glass and her fingers in a grip that made her still.

    ‘What are you doing over there?’ her uncle grumbled. ‘Callista, you mustn’t monopolise our guest.’

    ‘Coming, Uncle,’ she called, trying to slide her hand from Damon Savakis’ hold.

    ‘What’s the matter, Callista? Aren’t you glad to see me?’ His voice was as seductive as she remembered. As if she’d imagined his disapproval moments ago.

    ‘As a friend of my uncle’s you’re welcome here,’ she said through numb lips, desperately clamping down on the accusations and questions clamouring for release. What did this man want of her? It seemed impossible he was the same warm, exciting lover who’d given her the precious gift of intimacy and tenderness. A wholeness she’d never known.

    Damon’s eyebrows tilted down in the hint of a frown. His lips thinned a fraction.

    ‘Not a very convincing welcome, glikia mou,’ he whispered. ‘I would have expected something a little warmer.’

    A ribbon of searing heat curled through her at his endearment in that deep, rich voice. Her weakness horrified her. How could she respond so to a man who had no shame about seducing her while he was here to court Angela? Who chided her for her promiscuity yet played games of innuendo?

    Today had stripped her emotionally bare. The experience had overwhelmed her. Physical pleasure had been a vehicle for much deeper feelings, even for a