Page 23 of Vows of Revenge
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...
