Page 11 of Vows of Revenge

Damos paid attention—this was useful intel. He made a mental note to check out any likely UK-based conferences coming up on her subject that she might be likely to attend.

‘Your parents are divorced, I take it...?’ He trailed off, though he knew the answer perfectly well from his dossier on her.

‘Yes, she’s English and now remarried—unlike my father. Neither had any more children.’ She made a face, half humorous. ‘I don’t think my mother wanted to ruin her figure, and my father didn’t want to risk another hefty child maintenance divorce settlement!’

Damos knew that wry expression was back on his face.

‘All rich men fear being married for their money. I’ve certainly become a lot more popular with women since I made money,’ he heard himself saying, and wondered why he was saying it.

He frowned inwardly. Should he have said that? And why say anything about himself at all? This evening was about drawing Kassia out, exploring how best he could achieve his aims for her.

He saw she was looking at him now, but not unsympathetically.

‘That’s understandable,’ she commented. ‘Even I—if you can believe it!—get attention paid to me simply because of my father!’

Damos relaxed. This was better—she was revealing things about herself, not making him reveal things about himself.

‘Why “if you can believe it”?’ He infused just the right amount of uncomprehending curiosity into his voice.

He got a straight look and a straight answer. ‘Why else would they pay attention to me?’

She gave a short laugh, but it was without resentment. It was infused, he thought, with wry resignation if anything. And there was that air of indifference to her own appearance that he had picked up on from the start—as though it was just not important to her.

There was a glint in her light eyes as she went on. ‘Not everyone, Mr Kallinikos, is sufficiently fascinated by Bronze Age Civilisation as to want my company for dinner!’

This was approaching thin ice, he thought—time to move the conversation off it. But gracefully...and perhaps with some humour at his own expense to deflect the moment.

‘Or as keen to find a good tax haven for this year’s profits, don’t forget!’ he said lightly.

He got one of her wry half-smiles in return, and was satisfied.

He returned to a subject he wanted to draw her out on. Herself.

He found himself frowning inwardly for a moment. She had been so upfront about not expecting men to be interested in her. Was that a good sign or a bad sign as far as his prospective seduction was concerned? It definitely meant he had to tread carefully, or her suspicions would be aroused.

Yet that was not his only reaction to her dispassionate disclosure. Surely it was sad that she wrote herself off the way she so obviously did?

No woman should do that.

His own voice cut short the thought. ‘So, did you grow up in England?’

‘Mostly, yes. I went to boarding school, and then university. I’ve always spoken Greek, though, and that’s helped, of course, with my career.’

The crew were appearing, clearing away empty plates, replacing them with dessert.

‘What can I tempt you with?’ Damos invited.

He’d ordered a good range, from a sumptuous gateau St Honoré in towering choux pastry, to more frugal fruit and cheese.

Kassia made a face—she was definitely more relaxed with him, Damos could see, and he was highly satisfied with that. He was making good progress...

‘It has to be the gateau,’ she said. ‘How can I possibly resist? But then I’ll be virtuous and have some fruit afterwards.’

He laughed, cutting her a very generous portion of the towering dessert, spun with caramel and oozing cream, and then watching her start to tuck into it with relish and clear enjoyment.

It set a new thought running...

A woman who enjoys the sensuous pleasure of a rich dessert can enjoy other sensuous pleasures...

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