The Savakis Mistress. Annie West

on the swing of dark-honey hair as it caught the light. He’d picked her for a foreign tourist when he’d first seen her.

      She shrugged. ‘Maybe I dye my hair.’

      ‘Ah, but Callie, we both know you don’t.’ The golden-brown triangle of hair he’d uncovered when he stripped away her bikini bottom yesterday had been the genuine thing. ‘I’ve seen the proof, remember? Up close and personal.’

      He let satisfaction colour his voice and wasn’t surprised when she slammed to a stop ahead of him.

      For a moment she stood still, her shoulders curiously hunched. Then she swung round and met his gaze. Not by the slightest sign did she reveal embarrassment. Her eyes were the colour of cool mountain water, her expression bland. No doubt she was free and easy enough not to feel discomfort discussing personal details with her latest paramour.

      What a merry dance she must have led her husband. Had he died trying to satisfy her? Or had he been forced to watch her with younger men who gave her what he couldn’t?

      ‘Just as I know your colouring is black as sin,’ she murmured. ‘So what?’ Her brows rose as if she was bored.

      ‘It’s uncommon for Greek women to be so fair.’ He stepped close enough to see the smatter of gold shards in her irises, like spangles of sunlight amongst the green.

      ‘Half Greek. My mother was Australian.’ Her words were clipped, as if he’d delved into something private. He waited for her to continue. ‘Besides, some people here in the north have fairer colouring. All the Manolis family are the same.’ Her gaze settled on his dark locks as if disapproving.

      ‘Your cousin’s hair is brown. There’s no comparison.’

      He watched her open her mouth as if to shoot off a riposte, then stop herself. She shrugged and turned away. ‘Now, if I’ve satisfied your curiosity—’

      ‘Not yet. Tell me,’ he drawled, ‘why keep me at arm’s length? Surely after yesterday I’m entitled to a little more warmth. Are you one of those women who need the thrill of a secret assignation to fire her blood? Are you turned on by the possibility of being found in flagrante delicto?’

      Callie stared at the sprawling bungalow a hundred metres down the path and knew it would be a miracle if she made it there with her temper and her composure in place.

      Fire her blood, indeed!

      Yet she shrank from the suspicion that maybe he was right. Maybe the thrill of desire that had swept her doubts and defences away yesterday was a result of their anonymity and the unspoken daring of their actions.

      She shut her eyes, remembering the delicious excitement as he’d walked towards her through the dappled shade, his eyes never leaving hers so she felt the tug of his powerful personality like a living force. Without pause or hesitation he’d pulled her into his arms as if she belonged there. She’d welcomed each caress with a fervour that frightened her now.

      Nothing had ever seemed so right, so perfect.

      Callie snapped open her eyes. She’d given him too much already. She wouldn’t let him toy with her while he played games of one-upmanship with her uncle. While he decided whether to take her cousin in a cold-blooded business deal.

      She was done with being a pawn in any man’s machinations.

      ‘You’re not entitled to anything from me.’

      She fixed him with the cool look she’d perfected long ago to hide desperately churning emotions. Alkis had had no patience with emotion in his wife. Retreat behind her façade of indifference had been a hard-won but necessary survival skill.

      ‘I disagree. After yesterday your attitude is downright unfriendly.’

      Damon paced closer. She had to lift her head to hold his gaze. His heat curled round her like an invitation. The scent of soap, sea and healthy male enticed her till it was an effort not to reach out needy fingers for one last caress.

      Callie slid her hands into her trouser pockets lest she be tempted to do something insane like touch him.

      ‘Yesterday is over.’

      ‘But what we had needn’t be.’ His low, seductive voice pierced her brittle façade. He made her yearn again for the delicious torment of his touch.

      That terrified her.

      ‘It’s over,’ she repeated, wishing she believed it.

      ‘And if I’m not ready to end it?’ His look was arrogant.

      ‘There was nothing to end.’ The words tumbled out. She had to concentrate on slowing down, maintaining her calm. ‘We had sex. That’s all.’

      ‘Just sex.’ His brows winged up and she thought she saw fury blaze in his eyes. Then the moment was gone and his face was unreadable. ‘Is that what you specialise in, Callie? Hot sex with strangers you forget the next day?’

      Her skin crawled with embarrassment and rage. Yet she knew better than to show it. She let her gaze drop to his shoulders, his wide chest, the powerful length of his arms and legs, then slowly up as if she were used to inspecting the finer points of a sexy male body.

      ‘I could say the same for you,’ she said, silently cursing the dry mouth that made the words come out too husky. ‘You got what you wanted yesterday. End of story.’

      ‘You’re wrong, my fine lady. It’s not the end at all.’

      A tremor ran through her body, drawing each muscle tight with…anticipation? Excitement?

      No! She refused to play his games of seduction and temptation. Yesterday had been a terrible error of judgement. She’d broken every precept, her own moral code, for a few hours’ passion. It had been momentary insanity.

      She should have guessed nothing was as pure and simple as it had seemed at the time.

      ‘Believe me, Kyrie Savakis, it’s over. Why not move on?’ Callie had no doubt by nightfall he’d find another woman eager to become a notch on his bedpost. As she had been yesterday. Her chest constricted painfully.

      ‘Because I’m a man who gets what he wants, glikia mou. You’ve whetted my appetite and I want more.’

      His lips curved in a hungry smile that sent fear trickling down her spine.

      ‘I want you, Callie. And I intend to have you.’