The Savakis Mistress. Annie WestЧитать онлайн книгу.
he whispered, his gaze fixed on her with searing intensity. ‘Hold me while I touch you.’
Callie’s eyes widened at his deliberate eroticism. Her heart leapt. The melting warmth between her legs belied her instinctive denial and she squirmed.
After their desperate lovemaking this should be impossible. Yet the feel of his sinewed hand moving beneath hers was… exciting. As was the burgeoning strength of his arousal against her thighs.
‘No.’ Her voice was breathless. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to claim control of her wayward body. ‘I have to go. I have to—’
‘Shh, glikia mou,’ he murmured in that seductive, black-velvet voice. He withdrew his hand to cup her face with callused fingers. He stroked the erogenous zone at the corner of her mouth she hadn’t known existed till today. ‘Relax and enjoy. There’s no rush. Nothing more important than this.’
His hand slid to the back of her head and he pulled her inexorably down to meet his mouth. The kiss was long, languorous and seductive. Callie’s resistance seeped away like sea water through sand. Her bones melted as her lips opened and he ravaged her mouth with sweet possessiveness.
How could anything so unprecedented feel so right?
‘You can leave later,’ he murmured against her lips, each word a caress. ‘Afterwards.’
Afterwards. The word circled in Callie’s hazy brain then disintegrated as she kissed him back. The remnants of self-control dissolved in the heat of rising passion.
It was oh-so-easy to give herself up to the luxury of his expert seduction. To throw away a lifetime’s caution and live for the moment. To forget the real world and the harsh lessons she’d learned there. Just for a little longer.
Madness.
That was what it had been, Callie decided as she stood before the mirror in her guest room. Nothing else could explain the way she’d allowed herself to be seduced.
No, not allowed. She’d encouraged him, eager for the feel of his tall, muscular body against hers. Impatient to pursue the sensual promise she’d read in his eyes. Eager for the sort of loving she’d never had, and now, to her stunned delight, had experienced for the first time.
With a stranger.
Her eyes rounded and a shudder rippled through her at the thought of what she’d done. She, the woman the tabloids had once dubbed the Snow Queen, had given herself to a complete stranger in passionate abandon! Not once. Nor twice. But three times, in heart-stopping succession.
Shock and shame flooded her as she remembered in exquisite detail.
Given herself! She grimaced at her reflection. She hadn’t even had the grace to be embarrassed that he carried condoms when he’d come ashore today. All she’d felt was relief.
He had a swimmer’s body, broad shoulders, slim hips, with long muscled limbs and the easy stride of a man at ease with his strength. The sort of body she’d seen on beaches at home in Australia a lifetime ago. Not what she’d expect on a tiny island off the tourist trail in northern Greece.
She knew gorgeous men. They left her unmoved. Their charm and good looks had never quickened her pulse.
The gossips had been disappointed as for six years she’d remained loyal to her much older husband.
Even the fact that her husband had desired her only as a possession to display and jealously guard hadn’t driven her to seek consolation elsewhere. Alkis had been impotent and Callie had buried her libido as well as her emotions during their sterile, unhappy marriage. More, his sick jealousy and frightening outbursts ensured she kept men at a distance. She’d learned to brush off the importunate ones with a cool grace that had become her hallmark.
Never had she felt this fiery yearning when she looked at a man. Until today, just hours ago in the deserted private cove of her uncle’s estate.
It had been a momentary insanity, brought on by worry for her aunt’s health and stress from this duty holiday under her uncle’s roof. By the release of unbearable tension after those dreadful last months with Alkis.
By a lifetime of being what her aunt would describe as a ‘good girl’, doing what was expected.
Callie’s lips quirked in a humourless smile as she met her gaze in the mirror. She didn’t look like a good girl now.
She’d done as her uncle insisted, donning a full-length gown, totally over-the-top for a family dinner. She’d piled her hair up and wore the flashy diamond pendant and bracelet set that was all she had left of Alkis’ gifts.
But the formal clothes didn’t conceal the change in her.
There was high colour in her cheeks, her eyes sparkled overbright, her lips were plump as if kissed long and hard by an expert. And that look of secret satisfaction surely must betray her.
She should be mortified by what she’d done.
Yet, staring at the stranger in the glass, she knew an overpowering urge to flee. To forget the stuffy dinner her uncle had organised and race barefoot to the beach and find her stranger.
Her lover.
The man whose name she didn’t even know.
But she could never do that. Callie had been trained too well. Ruthlessly she subdued the renegade impulse to ignore a lifetime’s lessons and run to the man with whom she’d shared her yearning and her inner self.
She’d had her single afternoon of madness. Now it was over and she had to forget him before he swept away all her desperately won defences.
‘I want you girls to make a special effort tonight.’ Uncle Aristides turned the statement into a threat. He waggled a warning finger at his daughter, standing beside Callie. ‘Especially you, Angela. Your mother’s unwell again, so you’ll stand in for her.’ He spoke disapprovingly, as though Aunt Desma had planned to be ill.
Seeing the scowl wedge between her uncle’s beetling brows and the miserable look on Angela’s face, Callie swallowed a pithy retort. It would be her docile cousin who’d pay if Callie made her uncle angry.
‘The evening will be perfect, Uncle. I’ve checked with the staff. The meal looks superb and the best vintage champagne is on ice. I’m sure your guest will be impressed.’
Her uncle was even more touchy than usual, lashing out furiously at any perceived problem. Poor Angela was already a bundle of nerves, anticipating an explosion.
‘I hope so,’ her uncle boomed. ‘We have an important visitor tonight.’ He emphasised the point with a wave of his hand. ‘A very important guest.’
Callie’s stomach sank with foreboding. What did he have planned? This was more than a family celebration for her twenty-fifth birthday. Diamonds and designer gowns weren’t usual attire, even in this house where oppressive formality was the norm. He was up to something.
His eyes strayed again to Angela and Callie’s curiosity twisted into a stab of anxiety. She knew exactly how ruthless her uncle could be, and how devious.
‘Don’t forget what I said, Angela,’ he barked.
Angela’s face paled. ‘Yes, father.’ At eighteen she had none of her father’s brash confidence. Callie knew she found it a chore mixing among her father’s associates.
Callie stepped forward. ‘Tonight will be a success, Uncle. Don’t worry, we’ll see to it.’
If she had to dredge up every last ounce of patience to smile and listen to one of his cronies bore on about the iniquities of the government or the flaws of the younger generation, she’d do it. Anything to prevent an angry outburst that would force Angela further into her shell.
Aristides Manolis looked Callie up and down as if seeking to find fault. But six years of marriage to a rich man, of