Vows of Revenge

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

K ASSIA CLIMBED INTO the passenger seat of Damos’s hire car and buckled up as he settled himself behind the wheel. Her eyes flickered sideways as he pulled his own seat belt across him and gunned the engine. So, they were heading back into Oxford, where he would drop her off, and then tomorrow she would set off to the Midlands—she’d arranged to stay for a couple of days with an old schoolfriend.

Then she’d probably fly back to Greece.

Taking memories of today back with her. Good memories.

Because today had been good—very good.

Spending it with Damos.

Once she’d disciplined herself not to keep stealing glances at him, not to be too aware of just how incredibly attractive he was to her sex, she had settled down to enjoy his company. He’d been easy-going, interested in what they’d talked about, and good-humoured, with a ready smile and a ready laugh. After the lake they’d gone further afield, across the splendid south lawn, exploring more of the vast grounds and gardens, finishing off with coffee at yet another café on the huge estate.

‘Tired out?’ Damos smiled across at her as they eased their way down the imposing drive towards the main road.

‘Good exercise.’ She smiled back.

It was only a few miles back into Oxford, so this, she knew, was the end of her day with him. She’d be saying goodbye to him and this time it would be permanent. No more coincidentally running into him again. Oh, he might, perhaps, show up at next season’s dig, just to see what his funding might have turned up, but that was about all. Possibly, too, when she was next summoned to Athens by her father, for whatever reason, she just might see Damos around. But he’d doubtless have some glamorous female draped over him...

She felt a pang of sadness well up in her—or something like sadness. She wasn’t sure what. All she knew was that she didn’t want the day to end.

Just why that was she didn’t want to think about. Because what would be the point? She wasn’t glamorous, or beautiful, and Damos Kallinikos had only been being friendly, sharing today with her as a convenient but passing companion, for want of anyone else—that was all.

‘Well...’ he turned on to the road leading back to Oxford ‘...if you’re not too tired, I’ve another favour to ask you.’

He threw a glance at her, and Kassia looked at him with questioning surprise.

His eyes went back to the road.

‘The favour is this,’ he said. ‘After my meeting yesterday, while you were at your conference, it seems I have an invitation to one of the colleges this evening. It’s some kind of shindig—is that the word in English?—where former students who are now influential in the world of business and politics and so on can be wined and dined. Presumably with a view to encouraging them to spend their money and exert their influence on behalf of their old college. My business contact here is one such former student, and he has got the Master to give me an invitation as well.’

His voice took on a sardonic tone.

‘It seems one does not have to be an old student to be considered potentially useful to the college providing one has money—even foreign money, like mine. That said, the evening could potentially be useful to me, too, as my business contact tells me that a government trade minister whom it would be helpful for me to know personally will be attending. So...’ He glanced at her again. ‘Would you be prepared to be my plus one for the evening?’

Kassia looked at him. ‘But surely you’ll be the guest of your business contact?’

He shook his head, his eyes back on the road. ‘Not really. The invitation is from the Master, and it includes a plus one of my own.’ He looked at her again as they paused for the traffic lights by the Oxford ring road. ‘It would be good if you would perform that office.’ He made a slight face. ‘It would just make the sociability of it all that much easier.’

His tone grew sardonic again

‘As I’m sure you’ll appreciate, nothing so vulgar as business or money will be mentioned—this is all about networking, socialising, making introductions and so on. It’s a social investment, I suppose—and my arriving with a plus one would play to that.’ He paused again. ‘What do you say?’

Strange feelings were going through Kassia. It was happening again. A man she barely knew—or, to be fair, had barely known before today—was now making a point of inviting her to spend time with him. But why?

Obviously, as she knew perfectly well, it was not for any of the usual reasons that a man might invite a female out—that thought wasn’t even in the running. But did he really want to extend the day they’d spent together into an evening together as well? It seemed he did. And, yes, she could see why—up to a point...

He was speaking again.

‘And it’s not just any plus one, Kassia. This is your world—academia. You’re at home in it in a way that I am not, even though it could prove useful to me in a business sense ultimately. You’ll be at ease at an Oxford college social event.’

‘I never went to Oxford,’ she objected.

‘You work in academia—that’s my point.’

‘In a very junior capacity—’

‘Stop making objections!’

There was humour in his voice, but there was something else as well. She could tell. It was determination. He wanted her to say yes. It would suit him for her to do so.

‘Look...’ he went on. ‘On my own, I’m just some self-made Greek business guy, only knowing the world I come from, only knowing the English businessman who arranged this invitation for this evening. With you at my side it would give me something else as well. I’ve no idea if their professor of ancient history, or whatever, will be there tonight, but just the fact that you can talk on equal terms with other academics—even if you’re just a junior one—will help oil wheels. Like I say, this is your world, not mine. You’ll be at home here, and that will help me. So, will you come along?’

What he said made sense. OK, so she wasn’t an Oxford graduate, but she could hold her head up robustly enough. She’d just been a conference delegate here—she was, in short, bona fide in the world he was entering this evening.

But then a real objection hit her.

‘It’s going to be black tie, isn’t it? These formal things always are at Oxford. If so, I haven’t got any evening clothes with me,’ she said.

The smartest outfit she’d brought with her had been for the pre-conference dinner—a day dress she’d worn with a jacket and low heels. Nothing good enough for a black-tie affair.

‘No problem. We’re still in time for the shops,’ said Damos. ‘I’ll head for the shopping centre and drop you off. Will that do?’

‘Um...yes, thank you,’ she said.

‘Good. That’s settled.’

Satisfaction was clear in Damos’s voice.

He crossed the ring road, heading into the city. Beside him, Kassia sat, wondering what she’d let herself in for. But she knew from the way her heart rate had quickened that, whatever the reason Damos Kallinikos wanted her to come with him this evening, she wanted it too.

I don’t have to say goodbye to him. Not quite yet...

And her heart rate quickened again.

Damos’s mood was good. Very good. He minutely adjusted his bow tie as he gave himself a final glance in the mirror in his hotel room. The car would be here soon, to drive him the short distance to the college hosting the event this evening. He would meet Kassia at the entrance—the college she’d been staying at for her conference was almost next door, so she’d said she’d walk.

He wondered what she’d be looking like...what kind of evening outfit she’d got for herself. But, judging by what he knew, he didn’t hope for much.

He was right to do so.

When, some fifteen minutes later, he saw her waiting under the stone arched entrance to the college, he gave an inner sigh. The matronly dress she’d bought for herself did absolutely nothing for her. In a dull shade of dark green, it had a high round neck, a bodice that looked ruched in a bunchy way, and was tightly long-sleeved. Beneath the ruching it dropped widely to her ankles, looking as if it were a size too large for her. Her hair was still in its knot on the back of her head, and she still had not used any make-up.

Frustration stabbed through him, laced with determination. He would change Kassia’s low self-image of herself...make her realise her potential... But not tonight. Tonight was about getting to third base with her.

He smiled warmly as he came up to her. ‘Dead on time,’ he greeted her. ‘Excellent.’

‘Well, I’m right next door after all,’ she replied.

They walked forward under the archway, nodding at the college official on duty. A reception table was set out just beyond, and Damos gave his name and hers. Beyond, in the grassy quad, guests were already gathering. The evening was warm, and the clink of glasses and the chatter of conversation reached across to them. Around the edges the ancient college guarded this central area, in one corner of which a string quartet was playing.

‘Shall we?’ said Damos, holding his arm out to Kassia.

She hesitated slightly before placing her hand on his sleeve, but then did it anyway. Damos looked around him. The college was incredibly atmospheric in the evening light—the golden stone of the buildings, the dark green of the quad’s pristine lawn, the strains of classical music wafting over the space... As they neared where the other guests were gathered he saw that several tables with white linen tablecloths were laden with glasses and bottles, serving staff behind them.

‘Now, I do think on a quintessentially traditional occasion such as this clearly is that champagne is in order,’ Damos said, and smiled, accepting a glass from one of the servers and handing it to Kassia.

She made no demur, and he took a glass for himself as well, strolling on with her on his arm. She wore some kind of perfume, he noticed—nothing heavy, but something light and floral. It mingled, he thought, with the scent of jasmine descending from climbers festooning one area of the college walls.

‘Ah, there you are!’

A voice hailed him, and the man who was his business contact here stepped out of a knot of people. Introductions were made and, just as Damos had foretold, Kassia was quite able to hold her own as she was introduced to college dons, answering questions about her own specialist field and then moving the conversation on. Canapes circulated, along with more champagne, and Damos relaxed into the occasion.

At some point he was duly introduced to the Master who—again as he had foretold—was more than happy to make the acquaintance of a wealthy guest, albeit a foreigner. The Master then introduced him to the government minister, and pleasantries were exchanged, potential future contacts made which might well prove useful at some point. And then there was a general move into dinner.

‘High Table,’ murmured Kassia, glancing around the ancient dining hall, panelled and resplendent, as they took their places once the Master, dons and the ministerial guest of honour had taken theirs and a long Latin grace had been intoned. ‘We had nothing like this at my northern redbrick!’

She spoke humorously, but Damos looked at her. ‘Do you wish you had been a student here?’

She shook her head. ‘I didn’t apply,’ she said cheerfully.

‘Why not?’ Damos frowned.

‘Because I knew I wasn’t Oxbridge material, and so did my teachers. It doesn’t bother me,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’ve always accepted my limitations—including intellectual.’

She shook out her napkin and draped it across her lap, pouring herself some water and replying politely to a remark addressed to her by one of the other diners. Damos let his eyes rest on her, her words resonating in his head. A new determination fired in him—there were some limitations she should not accept. He did not want her to. They were holding her back.

Holding her back from responding to me as I want her to.

Because he could tell that she was doing so. Oh, she might be far more at ease in his company now—their day out together at Blenheim had seen to that—and she’d lost any last trace of awkwardness or hesitation with him, but she was still treating him as if she were holding back from regarding him as anyone but a pleasant companion.

Yet the signs were there that that was just not so. There were too many tiny but telltale giveaways. The way she moved away from him slightly if he was too close...the way she threw little glances at him when she thought he would not notice...the way a faint colour would run into her cheeks if he held eye contact with her too long.

He knew the signs.

But what he definitely wasn’t doing was responding to them. He wasn’t coming on to her in the slightest. Not yet. If he did, she’d shy away. He knew it with every instinct. No, all he could do for now was continue as he was, making himself pleasant, easy company for her, enjoying the evening. And it was certainly an evening to remember.

Kassia was clearly enjoying it too, with the candlelight playing on her face as the courses were served, the wine was poured, and all the arcane rituals observed—including having everyone remove themselves to another panelled room to partake of a second dessert, comprising cheese, sweetmeats, fruit and choices of port, liqueurs and sweet wines. Damos couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or amused...

‘Hang on to your napkin!’ Kassia whispered. ‘We’re supposed to mingle with new people now.’

They did, one of whom was a classicist, and Damos held back and let Kassia engage with him happily on a comparison of Mycenaean, Homeric and Classical Attic Greek. She was in her element, he could see, and that same silvery glow was in her expressive, grey-blue eyes as he’d seen when she’d enthused about the broken bits of pots she spent her time uncovering.

He sat quietly and watched. Even in that dress that did nothing for her, with her severe hairstyle and unmade-up face, there was still something about her...something that made him want to go on looking at her. Hearing her voice... Being close to her...

He realised he was being addressed by the classicist, who was asking him if he, too, were an archaeologist.

He shook his head. ‘But I’ve agreed to sponsor Kassia’s museum’s dig next season, if that exonerates me,’ he said, and smiled.

‘Oh, indeed,’ came the reply. ‘I would keep quiet about that here, though, if I were you. Archaeology is an expensive business, and always hungry for funding! You’ll be plagued to death if word gets out!’

Damos gave the expected laugh, but his thoughts were sober. He had sponsored Dr Michaelis’s excavation not out of the slightest interest in archaeology, but for the sole purpose of engineering an introduction to Kassia. Moving in on her. Lining her up to clear the path for him to acquire Cosmo Palandrou’s logistics company. It would significantly enlarge his own business interests, increasing his own wealth yet more, the way he’d striven to do all his life, from poverty to riches, in order to fulfil his driving, relentless ambition...

Yet somehow, here and now, with Kassia beside him in this historic, atmospheric panelled room at this ancient Oxford college, having spent the day with her among the baroque splendours of Blenheim in the heart of England, that all seemed very far away.

But I am only here with her to drive my purpose forward. That is my only reason for being here at all.

He must not forget it. Whatever his thoughts about Kassia now, they did not obviate his intention in that respect. Yes, he might have come to be drawn to her, irrespective of who she was, but for all that she remained Yorgos Andrakis’s daughter—and it was for that reason alone that he had an interest in her.

Then tell her.

The words were in his head out of nowhere. Stark and bare. Impelling.

Tell her. Tell her what you suspect her father is up to. Tell her that the sure-fire way to stop him in his tracks is to let Cosmo Palandrou see you are involved with her. Just tell her that. It’s all you have to do.

But if he did...?

More words came. Words he could not silence, or dispute, or deny.

How do you know what her reaction will be?

He didn’t—that was the blunt answer.

She might not believe him...might think he was exaggerating...might dismiss it out of hand. He could feel tension tighten across his shoulders as he drove the logic forward. And even if she didn’t—even if she did credit what he was telling her—why should she go along with his method of disposing of her father’s plans? She might think it quite unnecessary—might believe that all she had to do was tell her father she didn’t want to marry Cosmo. And maybe, for all his bullying ways, Yorgos Andrakis wouldn’t succeed in pressurising her to do his will.

But he’ll keep that from Cosmo for as long as he can. He’ll drag things out...tell Cosmo she’ll come round...keep him hopeful. And that means Cosmo won’t be open to any other offers—including mine. And while it drags on other buyers might get wind of what’s going on, see that Cosmo’s company is vulnerable and start to circle too. And then there’ll be a bidding war, pushing the price up.

He drew a breath. No, the surest way to outmanoeuvre Yorgos Andrakis and make the way clear for his own bid for Cosmo’s business was to spike his guns. By making Cosmo not want to marry Kassia at all—putting him off completely by the means he’d determined on right from the start. Getting to Kassia first himself, thereby putting Cosmo off for good—the way he was already doing.

His eyes rested on her. She was sipping her sweet wine and still discussing Ancient Greece with her fellow academic. Damos was all too darkly conscious that she was oblivious to what was going through his head. To the decision he was coming to—the only safe one to make.

He felt himself steel.

It’s just too risky to tell her.

And there was no need to, he reminded himself tightly. No need to do anything other than what he was already doing. Keep going on the path he had selected.

It was working, and it would go on working—right to the end.

And by then...

Kassia will be mine.

He felt his thoughts soften, his eyes lighten, the tension in his shoulders ease. He joined in with the conversation again, taking a refill of port as it circulated, feeling its richness mellowing him even more. The evening wore on, and he knew he was enjoying it—not just because of being here, but because he was sharing the evening with Kassia.

He said as much to her as, with the guests finally dispersing, they strolled across the quad.

‘Are you glad you came?’ he asked. ‘Because I am—very glad. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.’

His smile on her was warm.

‘It was a unique experience,’ she answered, her voice just as warm. ‘Thank you for taking me.’

‘It was,’ he assured her, ‘my pleasure.’

And that, he knew with certainty, was completely true.

She made the evening for me...

It was a thought to warm him—much more than thinking about Cosmo Palandrou or Yorgos Andrakis and all that went with them. He set that determinedly aside, turning instead to Kassia.

‘I’ll walk you back,’ he said.

He hadn’t bothered to order another car—the distance to his hotel was not far, and the college Kassia was staying at was next door.

At the entrance, he paused, looking down at her. She was wearing heels, but very low, and her shoes, he’d noticed with the same condemnation he’d reserved for the dress she was wearing, were serviceable rather than elegant. She was still a few inches shorter than he was, though, and she was looking up at him perforce.

In the dim light he thought he saw something move in her eyes. On impulse, he reached for her hand. He lifted it to his mouth, grazing her knuckles lightly...so lightly. He felt her hand tremble in his as he straightened. He smiled down at her. A warm, encompassing smile.

‘For me,’ he said, ‘it’s been a memorable evening—quite an experience! And a great day out seeing Blenheim too. Thank you for making both so special.’

He released her hand and looked down at her a moment longer. She was gazing up at him, lips slightly parted, and there was something in her eyes he had not seen till now. Something wide and wondering.

Almost, he started to lower his head to hers. Then he halted. Instead, he glanced through the entrance to the college where she was staying. The night porter was visible at his desk, clearly able to see them. Damos took a step back.

‘Goodnight, Kassia,’ he said, still holding her eyes. ‘Sleep well. And, again, thank you...’

He turned away, heading back down the road. He had the distinct feeling that Kassia had not moved. That she was watching him walk away from her. As if she did not want him to.

It was good to know. Very good. For reasons he did not entirely wish to acknowledge. Conflicting reasons...

He gave a shake of his head. But those reasons needn’t be conflicting—that was the beauty of it. He could want Kassia for herself and for the reason he had set out to want her in the first place.

There is no conflict between them.

He kept the words in his head, walking on back to his hotel. It was time to think of what his next step would be. It would be his home run...

Making Kassia his.