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His Mistress By Blackmail
Maya Blake
The first rule of blackmail?Always stay in controlRuthless Alexandros Christofides will stop at nothing to recover a precious family heirloom—including using delectable dancer Sage Woods as bait! But his plan to blackmail her into compliance unravels when he discovers just how quickly their attraction ignites! Now Xandro’s in danger of forgetting his own rules…because in this game of seduction there can only be one winner…


The first rule of blackmail?
Always stay in control
Ruthless Alexandros Christofides will stop at nothing to recover a precious family heirloom—including using delectable dancer Sage Woods as bait! But his plan to blackmail her into compliance unravels when he discovers just how quickly their attraction ignites! Now Xandro’s in danger of forgetting his own rules—because in this game of seduction, there can only be one winner...
MAYA BLAKE’s hopes of becoming a writer were born when she picked up her first romance at thirteen. Little did she know her dream would come true! Does she still pinch herself every now and then to make sure it’s not a dream? Yes, she does! Feel free to pinch her, too, via Twitter, Facebook or Goodreads! Happy reading!
Also by Maya Blake (#u48d0685e-921d-54c4-ba6f-b4e71b472d04)
Brunetti’s Secret Son
A Diamond Deal with the Greek
Signed Over to Santino
The Di Sione Secret Baby
The Boss’s Nine-Month Negotiation
Pregnant at Acosta’s Demand
The Sultan Demands His Heir
Rival Brothers miniseries
A Deal with Alejandro
One Night with Gael
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
His Mistress by Blackmail
Maya Blake


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
978-1-474-07183-3
HIS MISTRESS BY BLACKMAIL
© 2018 by Maya Blake
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Cover (#u6d37d13f-fb81-5146-8220-110b39898158)
Back Cover Text (#u238394fd-c42e-5262-827c-f7b7697f1ed4)
About the Author (#u6ac7587b-b512-598c-92f3-5f6f1f82e0a7)
Booklist (#ub719db72-102a-58d8-8eba-44762528b2cc)
Title Page (#ud23705d2-2bd5-5bf4-a0e3-a8e197842670)
Copyright (#u82561de6-4f53-5af3-a9e1-ae741a4cf60f)
CHAPTER ONE (#uf89d21c3-97ca-51da-90a5-5074b00269b5)
CHAPTER TWO (#udebaeec8-ee1f-5c4d-811a-c6382bd41a06)
CHAPTER THREE (#u7764d5e5-ae4f-5f9a-94fb-9bdb7a12b612)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ub39dc1e1-27f4-52e6-9eaf-780b4e8294f6)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u21cd71ea-2465-5d31-b4ec-317a172e3a70)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u48d0685e-921d-54c4-ba6f-b4e71b472d04)
ALEXANDROS CHRISTOFIDES STOOD staring at the space where his prized possession used to sit. Should’ve been sitting. He blinked once. Twice. The tattered brown velvet box didn’t magically appear, as he’d half hoped.
Somehow, despite the painstaking measures he’d put into place, the box wasn’t there. There were other items missing, too. Stacks of pristine hundred-dollar bills, expensive trinkets from his personal jeweller that he’d found over the years quickly healed even the most heartbroken of female hearts when the time came for the inevitable, infamous ‘Xandro Christofides’ exit speech. But it was the absence of the brown velvet box that held his complete attention. The loss was so visceral he carried on staring at the empty oblong-shaped space, disbelief and icy fury building in his veins.
The only other time the box had been out of his possession was when he’d been forced to let it go in order to make the changes he needed to turn his life around. As defining moments went, that had been one of his most memorable.
It had been that or accept that the road he was taking would inevitably lead to his early and most likely senseless demise. The necklace that had dictated his family’s history had formed the cornerstone of his own life. It was and for ever would be more than a piece of jewellery to him. The need to part with it the first time had made him feel just as bereft then as it did now. And it hadn’t only been him. He’d felt his mother’s pain then too, and felt it echo through him now.
This time, however, the loss wasn’t voluntary. Or temporary. Yes, it had taken three long years to get it back the first time, but he’d known where the ruby necklace was every single hour of every day. The deal he’d struck with the pawnshop owner all those years ago had included weekly visual evidence that the necklace was still in his possession. That it was still safe and waiting to be reclaimed the second Xandro was in a strong enough financial position to do so. Sure, it had cost him an extra five per cent interest in the crippling loan he’d taken out but that hadn’t mattered. Whereas the necklace had represented dishonour and disgrace for as long as he could remember, he’d fully intended it to represent something else to him. He’d made that promise with his blood and sweat and his mother’s heartbroken tears. And he’d needed that visual proof that he was on the right track almost as much as he’d needed oxygen in his lungs.
He’d achieved what he initially set out to do, which was to dig himself out of an unpalatable future, and his mother out of drudgery. He’d reacquired the necklace at the very first opportunity, and while he would never be able to look at it without remembering why it was in his possession in the first place, over the years it’d come to represent so much more to him.
Every time he bested an opponent or he won a supposedly unwinnable deal, he knew he owed that success partly to the unquenchable fighting spirit of that first fierce need to succeed in order not to lose the necklace.
Except now it was gone.
A thief had taken his property from him. Someone he trusted had walked into his office and helped themselves to what belonged to him.
Since attaining the kind of power and success most men only dreamed about, Xandro had gone for a very long time without such a daring personal challenge. These days the only challenges he received, and relished, were those thrown down by his opponents in the boardroom. So he had to admit to having a hard time believing the theft had actually happened. But the empty space he was staring at was its own glaring confirmation.
As much as he hated to admit it, because to do so would be to admit weakness he abhorred, he felt as if a part of himself was missing. Not a vital part—he would never allow anything or anyone such power over him. Certainly nothing akin to the emotional distress his mother had exhibited time and again over the necklace. Or the cloak of terror that he himself had lived with for those three years, knowing one wrong move was all it would take for those with a target on his back to crucify him.
He’d crawled out from underneath that terror of being in a gang leader’s crosshairs, and he’d taken his mother away from a life of danger and drudgery.
Those hard years of his youth had left scars, he knew. He’d been accused of being ruthless. Merciless. He’d been labelled cold-hearted by the lovers who were swiftly shown the door after claiming they were absolutely fine with a no-strings relationship only to attempt to tie him down after a few rounds in his bed.
Xandro never intended to forget his past, nor would he ever pine for love the way his mother had.
Nevertheless, he admitted to himself that the absence of the box was...affecting him.
He was so intent on dissecting and attempting to subjugate that unwanted emotion that he barely heard the knock on his office door.
A heavy tread of footsteps halted somewhere near the desk in his vast office. Xandro didn’t turn around. He already suspected what was coming.
‘He’s gone, sir.’ The news was weighted with wary apprehension.
Despite the neon lights of the Las Vegas Strip flashing outside his fiftieth floor window, his world turned a very dark and stormy grey.
The heart most people questioned whether he possessed clenched, almost defiantly questioning whether he deserved it to beat again after taking his eye off his prize.
Truth be told, he’d rarely looked at the necklace lately. The legacy of hardship and heartbreak it’d brought his mother was imprinted on his heart for ever, just like the backbreaking grind he’d endured to drag himself from the clutches of the gang was stamped within his psyche.
Nevertheless, the ruby necklace was part of his DNA. Which made its loss unacceptable.
Fists clenched, he whirled around. ‘Who is he and where has he gone?’ The words felt like crushed glass scraping his throat raw.
‘A senior security guard, sir. Benjamin Woods. He passed all the security tests for senior staff and, as per the company policy, we supplied him with a pass to this floor.’
‘When did you grant him a pass?’
‘A month ago, sir,’ Archie Preston, his security chief, confirmed.
Xandro’s nails bit into his palms. ‘So he’s had a month to plan this?’
‘Yes,’ came the hesitant answer.
‘How did he do it?’
‘The cameras show him escorting the last VIP guest to their suite at four a.m. Then he took the elevator to this floor. He was seen leaving your office fifteen minutes later with a rucksack. He walked straight out of the hotel, and took one of the taxis out front.’
Xandro forced himself to exhale. And to wait. There was more.
‘We tracked down the taxi driver,’ Archie continued. ‘Woods only went three blocks before he asked to be dropped off. The driver says he took off down one of the side streets.’
‘He knew we would track the cab so he used it long enough to throw us off his scent?’
Preston nodded. ‘We’re monitoring the airports and bus terminals—’
‘Enlighten me as to how that will help in any way, Mr Preston, when he’s already had a thirteen-hour head start?’ he snapped.
‘I can only offer my profuse apologies, Mr Christofides. And my promise that wherever he’s disappeared to, my men and I will find him.’
Xandro forced his fingers to unclench. He had to or risk smashing his fist into something unyielding. Like the nearest wall. The need to check the safe again one last time pulled at him. But his need not to feel that gut-wrenching loss again was even greater.
It was gone. But he wasn’t going to rest until he had it back in his possession.
‘I don’t doubt that you will. We know how he gained access to my office but not how he knew the code to my safe. However, the most important question now is: how do we find him before he gets round to hawking my property?’
Archie frowned, and scratched his nape.
‘If you give me the green light, I’ll hire a dozen PIs tonight to start a manhunt—’
‘You can do that. Or you can find me everything you can on Benjamin Woods, and every member of his family.’
‘I...if you don’t mind my asking, what good will that do?’ Archie asked cautiously.
Xandro afforded himself a mirthless smile. ‘Because family will always remain a man’s weakness—especially a broken one.’ The threat to his own mother had nearly brought him to his knees once upon a time. It’d been the wake-up call he’d needed to turn his life around, to protect the one person most important to him. He’d never needed to use a man’s family as leverage against him the way it was done to him, but then no one had dared to take something this precious from him either.
Xandro intended Benjamin Woods to pay for his crime and he’d use whatever means necessary. Family was as effective a tool as they came. ‘A family that breeds a thief is sure to be a damaged one. So point me in the direction of Benjamin Woods’s family. I’ll take it from there.’
Archie retreated after more solemn assurances, and Xandro strolled to the window of the office, housed in the most successful hotel and casino chain in the world. He flexed his fingers as his gaze tracked the many neon lights and excess-seeking humanity spread at his feet.
He hadn’t come this far, clawed himself out of danger and poverty and distanced himself from his family’s disgrace, only to lose the one thing that had helped fuel his ambition and success.
He knew it didn’t take much for a family to fracture and break. He intended to exploit his thief’s every weakness until he had the necklace back where it belonged.
CHAPTER TWO (#u48d0685e-921d-54c4-ba6f-b4e71b472d04)
THE RHYTHMIC SLAP of feet on the floor was in perfect time with the music. Well...almost perfect. Few people would’ve caught the lag, but Xandro heard it after a handful of seconds.
He’d had pathetically little as a boy—a legacy of disgrace and debt, and a life spent clawing his way out of that hellhole had seen to that—but he’d always had music.
When his grandmother had succumbed to her weak heart in their sorry excuse for a hovel in the Bronx, his mother had taken up the tradition. His day had started with his mother’s renditions of her favourite singer, Maria Callas, and ended with haunting operettas of long-dead composers. Xandro knew every great tenor and soprano, dead or alive.
He’d grown up watching endless black and white opera films borrowed from the library, and the amateur ballet footage of his own mother that his grandparents had managed to pack in their suitcase before they’d boarded the boat to New York with their pregnant eighteen-year-old daughter: the daughter with the beautiful voice and dreams of ballet that had been ruthlessly crushed by those who’d wielded more power and ambition than she had.
That bittersweet memory was the reason Xandro knew the performer was a millisecond behind the beat of the music.
But music or dance wasn’t the reason he was here in Washington, DC.
The room was in semi-darkness, the only beam of illumination centred on the dancer on the stage. The auditorium was large, but only a handful of people occupied the chairs. He tracked them one by one, his mood plummeting when each one failed to reveal his quarry.
He’d flown thousands of miles to find Sage Woods, sister of the thief who’d stolen his most prized possession. Archie hadn’t had time to furnish him with an up-to-date picture of her. The only one in Xandro’s possession had been taken over ten years ago when the girl was a mere fourteen years old.
But even then her flawless face and vibrant red hair had been arresting enough to make her stand out in any crowd. So, unless she’d changed drastically, she should be easy to spot.
He ignored the few searching looks as he stepped to one side, waiting for the room to empty of both dancer and patrons before reaching into his jacket for his phone.
Archie had redeemed himself by locating Sage Woods in Washington, DC, in record time. But Xandro wasn’t in a particularly forgiving mood.
More than what the necklace represented to him, he was reminded of what it’d also meant to his mother, and the joy on her face whenever she’d worn it—on his graduation; on the night he’d taken her to dinner when he’d signed the papers on his first hotel.
Bright moments in an otherwise dismal past that weren’t unwelcome, but nevertheless deepened his sense of loss.
On top of the memories he was grappling with, the current deal he was working on had stalled suddenly. Had he been superstitious, he would’ve attributed it to the theft of the necklace...
It didn’t help that Archie had confessed that Woods had gained the code to Xandro’s safe by hacking the security chief’s computer.
Xandro had bypassed Woods’s parents in Virginia in favour of flying straight to DC from Las Vegas. Besides his instincts telling him he would get more traction with the sister than with the parents, the work colleagues Archie had interviewed had reported he frequently mentioned his sister, the dancer.
About to press the phone to his ear to double check Sage Woods’s whereabouts from Archie, he paused as a figure clad in a black leotard and matching tights emerged from the wings and walked onto the stage.
Her flame-red hair gave her away immediately, despite it being piled on top of her head in a messy knot. But the slim figure in the picture on his phone had undergone a girl-to-woman transformation destined to stop most red-blooded males in their tracks.
Xandro froze in place, his breath trapped in his lungs as he got a first real-life view of Sage Woods.
Her long, elegant neck tapered to shoulders that were slim but perfectly sculpted. Sleek, well-toned arms swung gracefully as she walked with light, measured steps.
Her posture was exquisite, her spine straight as she moved to the centre of the stage. The moment she turned to fully face the empty seats, Xandro felt a powerful, primitive tug to his groin. He was too busy taking in her remaining features to shove the unwanted sensation aside. His phone forgotten, he continued to stare at the statuesque beauty, absently wondering when he’d last stopped long enough to appreciate such an exquisite creature.
The world he lived in provided him with an endless array of both natural and artificial beauty. But most of it came primped, polished and packaged for maximum attention-seeking effect. The woman standing before him, believing herself to be alone, wore not a single scrap of make-up, jewellery or even shoes. And yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He let his gaze drop to her trim waist, the feline, feminine flare of her hips, the strong, toned thighs and the long, shapely legs and delicate ankles.
As he watched, she pulled a tiny MP4 player out of her waistband. Head lowered, her forehead was caught in a tiny frown as she unwound the string of the earbuds and placed one in each ear.
Xandro slowly folded his arms as she secured the gadget to her arm. He frowned with displeasure and wondered whether it was because her means of supplying the music was impractical or because he felt robbed of the ability to hear it.
Neither was enough to distract him from observing her though. Witnessing the moment she went from completely still to an explosion of movement so captivating, his arms dropped and his breath stalled in his lungs.
Xandro stood, entranced by the power and control of her motions that could only be achieved by years of dedicated training.
He wasn’t aware of how much time passed as he watched her, wasn’t aware of the sensation flooding his mouth until he was forced to swallow before doing something unseemly, like drool.
When his lungs screamed with the need for oxygen he finally took a heavy breath. Shook his head to clear the haze threatening to take it over.
He hadn’t reached the level of astronomic success he’d never even dared to dream of without paying attention to the minutiae. With his focus on finding her and extracting the whereabouts of her brother, he’d only cursorily paid attention to the form of dance Benjamin Woods’s sister specialised in. Now it came to him in a flash. She was a contemporary dancer with a ballet background.
Some of her movements reminded him of his mother’s dancing. The rare times Xandro had managed to convince her to give in to the music she loved, she’d exhibited a talent that had taken his breath away.
Of course, those moments had been very few and far between, the reality of their harsh existence a dark, oppressive presence. It was why he’d treasured those moments.
The unique combination of both forms of art manifested in incredible movement as Sage danced to the music only she could hear. Music he himself yearned to hear. If only to judge for himself that it matched her rhythm.
Nothing else.
Because he couldn’t possibly wonder what sort of music was making her move so beautifully, so sensuously. Whether his mother would’ve liked it—
‘Excuse me? Can I help you?’
He stiffened, more than a little irritated that he’d been so absorbed in his thoughts that he’d hadn’t realised she’d stopped. That he had moved from the shadows of the doorway to the dimly lit front row and even now stood staring up at her.
Irritation grew to annoyance. He was here for one reason only, and it wasn’t to be spellbound by a stranger’s performance.
‘Are you Sage Woods?’ He heard the snap in his voice and felt zero remorse for it.
He was close enough to see her tense, to catch her eyes flick over him as she pulled the earbuds from her ears, draping them around her neck as she made up her mind whether he was friend or foe.
‘That depends,’ she answered eventually in a firm, husky voice.
‘On what?’
‘On who’s asking. And on you telling me what you’re doing here,’ she replied.
He pushed away the stirring effect of her voice on his irritated senses. ‘This is a dance company, not a secret government facility. I don’t require special permission to be here.’
Full lips pursed. ‘This is a private session, booked and paid for by me. There’s a sign above the door that says “No audience allowed”.’
He shrugged. ‘Your security must be lax then, since here I am.’
Her tension mounted. Her gaze moved from him to the door and back again. ‘You’re wearing a three-piece suit and a frown that says someone’s kicked mud onto your favourite shoes. So unless you’re here to audition for grumpy CEO in a Broadway show, you’re in the wrong place. And before you get any ideas about making something up, trust me, I know all the auditions taking place in the school for the next three months. You don’t belong here. Leave before I call Security.’
In another circumstances he would’ve admired her spunk. ‘Are you always this suspicious of strangers?’
‘Yes.’
‘And why is that, Miss Woods?’
Eyes he wasn’t sure were green or grey flicked over him once again before she raised her chin. ‘Aren’t you being a little presumptuous? I haven’t said I am who you think I am.’
‘Deny that you are and I’ll leave,’ Xandro challenged.
‘We both know that’s not true.’
‘Do we?’
Her eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You don’t seem to be the kind of person to take no for an answer since you’re still here, eating into my training time.’
‘How very...astute of you. Are we ready to stop playing games now?’
‘I wasn’t playing,’ she replied stiffly.
He strolled to the edge of where the auditorium floor met the elevated stage, and felt almost gratified when she took a wary step back. ‘Good. Neither was I. My name is Xandro Christofides. Give me the answers I need and I’ll let you carry on with your training.’
‘Let me?’
‘Yes, I’ll let you.’ Perhaps it was being caught off guard that hardened his tone even further. Or the unsettling knowledge that Sage Woods would have something in common with his mother mixed in with the absurd ache inside him that, forty-eight hours after the theft, seemed to show no signs of abating.
Either way, he intended to conclude this matter swiftly and return the events of the past where they belonged, locked in an emotionless safe, where his possession should’ve been. ‘Or we can go for the less satisfactory option of you attempting to evade my answers and wasting my time, and what I’ll decide to do about it down the line.’
She inhaled sharply, outrage flushing her cheeks with colour. ‘I’m wasting your—who the hell do you think you are?’
‘I believe I’ve already introduced myself. Now it’s your turn.’
‘I...what do you want with...with Sage?’
‘That is a confidential conversation she wouldn’t wish me to have with anyone else, I’m certain of it. Unless she wants her dirty laundry aired for everyone to inspect?’ he taunted.
There was no immediate comeback this time. Eyes he could now see were a dark, vibrant green inspected him with an extra layer of wariness. Her breathing was measured, but he could see the pulse leaping at her throat, the minuscule nervous twitch of her fingers.
‘Fine. I’m Sage Woods. Now would you care to tell me what this is about?’ she demanded.
Xandro opened his mouth to do just that. To demand to know the whereabouts of her brother. He wasn’t sure what made him pause. Or what made him leap up onto the stage in a single bound to tower over her. Perhaps he wanted to look into the whites of her eyes and judge for himself whether she was as duplicitous as her brother. She was certainly daring enough.
But his actions certainly hadn’t been because of the invisible pull tugging at him or the need to find out whether the creamy perfection of her skin was real or just the play of the stage lights.
This time she stumbled back several steps, her eyes widening so the green stood out in vivid, shockingly vibrant colour. Colour he couldn’t immediately look away from.
‘What...what are you doing? I’ve told you who I am. Tell me why you’re here right now or I’ll—’ She stopped abruptly and balled her fists.
Xandro wondered again why he was prolonging this exchange. Surely it wasn’t because the woman in front of him held the thinnest fascination for him. ‘You’ll...what?’ he invited.
‘I’m not into telegraphing my intentions in advance. Take another step towards me and you’ll find out.’
For some absurd reason, despite the churning inside him, he wanted to laugh. His buzzing phone reminded him that outside of this auditorium, outside of this time and place, there was a thief in possession of something vitally important to him.
And the key to finding him was standing in front of him, preparing to defend herself with a martial arts move she was telegraphing loud and clear, despite her assertion otherwise.
‘Until forty-eight hours ago, your brother, Benjamin, was employed as a senior security guard in charge of elite clients at my VIP casino in Vegas. For reasons I’m yet to discover, he decided to help himself to money and property that didn’t belong to him, after which he disappeared. My sources tell me you’re in touch with your brother. You will tell me when you last spoke to him, and where I can find him.’
He knew his instincts to get closer to her had been right when he caught the faint snag in her breathing. No matter what came next, he now had the advantage of knowing she cared about her brother. Just as he knew that even though she tried to hide it by clearing her throat, whatever she was about to say wouldn’t be welcome.
‘I’m sorry, Mr...?’ She raised a neatly sculpted eyebrow. ‘Sorry, I’ve forgotten your name—’
‘Xandro Christofides,’ he supplied, his gaze trained on her face, reading her every micro-expression. ‘Your brother worked his way up from croupier to VIP security in the last eighteen months at the Las Vegas branch of Xei Hotels and Casinos. But I’m sure you know all of this.’
Her gaze swept over his shoulder for a second before reconnecting with his. ‘You’re wrong. I have no idea where Ben is, Mr Christofides.’ She kept her gaze on his for another bold second after her blatant lie, then stepped back. Xandro watched her walk towards the stage door, bend to pick up a small backpack before she looked over her shoulder. ‘And even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.’
CHAPTER THREE (#u48d0685e-921d-54c4-ba6f-b4e71b472d04)
SHE SHOULDN’T HAVE said that.
It had been unnecessary. And stupidly provocative. An emotional response when she should’ve given a calm, clinical dismissal. Just like she’d trained herself to. Bullies fed on emotional reactions. Hadn’t she learned that the long, hard way as a teenager?
So why did she say that? Why had she provoked him?
Probably because she’d wanted to annoy the overbearing man the same way he’d annoyed her by interrupting her training session. The session she’d paid hard-earned money for. The private session she used to settle herself and regain her peace of mind. Sage wasn’t ashamed to admit she needed these sessions like she needed oxygen. A successful audition was her ultimate goal, of course, but to her dancing would always be more than a career. She’d sacrificed so much to even get here.
She’d had more right to be on that stage than he had. So why had she walked away like that?
Because those silver-grey eyes and all that leashed animal power had threatened to knock every piece of common sense out of her head the moment he’d prowled to the edge of the stage and stared up at her from a position that should’ve been inferior, but had somehow made her feel small and vulnerable. Singled out. In a way that awakened disturbing memories. And yet it’d been a little different...
Or perhaps it’d been the moment he’d leaped oh-so-gracefully onto the stage and prowled towards her like a marauding predator intent on prying the information he needed from her.
Regardless of that, she should’ve stepped up to him and just coolly dismissed the man. But no. Once again, she’d let her control slip, lashed out in response to Xandro Christofides’s deliberate baiting.
She’d threatened him with bodily harm, for goodness’ sake, when she of all people knew how destructive that was!
Sage suppressed a shiver at the unwanted memories, and hurried along the back corridor that led to the locker rooms of the Washington Performance School.
Her skin still tingled from the charged almost-contact with Xandro Christofides. She could hear his deep, rumbling voice in her ear, feel the electricity sparking from him sizzling along her nerve endings.
‘You will tell me when you last spoke to him, and where I can find him.’
No please or thank you from the infuriating man. She was certain he was like that all the time, tossing orders around like confetti at a wedding and expecting people to jump.
Except she’d stopped jumping at orders, had drawn a very painful, but definitive line at being controlled. She was no longer willing to be anyone’s puppet, to have her strings pulled this way or that to suit what her parents deemed her destiny. It had come at a huge cost—one she was still paying.
She wasn’t about to let the enigmatic stranger add to her woes.
Good heavens, he’d been too much. Too handsome, too incisive, too...everything! And he’d probably seen through her half-truth.
It was true she had no idea where Ben was. They weren’t scheduled to make their pledged once-a-month call for another two weeks, and the last she’d heard from him he’d still been in Las Vegas.
Dear God, Ben, what have you done?
Her brother had grown increasingly bitter over the last year, his side of their conversations turning rant-filled with constant laments on his favourite subject lately—the financial disparity between the classes.
He shouldn’t have been in a place like Vegas in the first place. Not when it’d become heartbreakingly clear he was developing a gambling problem six months ago. She’d urged him to seek help. He’d vehemently denied the existence of the problem but he’d made a reluctant promise to call and check in once a month so she wouldn’t worry.
She only had Xandro Christofides’s word that her brother had stolen from him but Sage knew in her bones that it was highly likely to be true.
So should she have stayed to talk to Christofides? Pleaded on her brother’s behalf even before she knew for sure he’d done anything wrong?
No. She owed Xandro Christofides nothing, and her instincts warned her he was the type to take a mile when given an inch. She didn’t have an inch to give. Not when each day that passed was a reminder that her every inch she’d given had got her nowhere. When it’d come right down to it she’d been left on her own. Her parents had chosen their business, their precious way of life, over her.
Only Ben had been there for her. Only he had believed her.
Her loyalty was to her brother, not the boss who looked as if he chewed rocks for breakfast. Sage slammed the locker shut and hitched her backpack over her shoulder. In return for what Ben had done for her, she was prepared to stand up to a hundred Xandro Christofideses.
Except only one of them stood tall and proud and immovable before her when she stepped out of the side entrance onto the quiet side street in Washington, DC.
If she’d thought he looked intimidating in the low lights of the auditorium, the man in front of her looked downright terrifying despite the civilised bespoke clothing he wore.
Her hand tightened around the strap of the backpack as she fought a wave of panic.
Walk away. Just keep walking.
‘I guess I was right in thinking you’re not great at taking no for an answer. What are you going to do this time, kidnap me?’ Damn. She really needed to find a way to get her tongue to obey her brain.
Brooding eyes rested on her. ‘I wish you no harm. And while it’s rare, Miss Woods, I’ve been known to accept no on occasion. What I find unacceptable, however, are lies. I know you’re lying about your knowledge of your brother’s whereabouts.’ The words were clipped, coated in cold steel.
Icy fingers whispered down her spine, but Sage forced herself not to react with another outburst. ‘And you intend to prove that how, exactly?’ she asked coolly.
His jaw flexed and he seemed to grow larger before her even though he didn’t move an inch. ‘Word to the wise: don’t toy with me. I have very little patience for this exercise. Your brother has taken something very valuable to me. The quicker you work with me to ensure its safe return, the more...lenient I’m prepared to be.’
Her mouth dried. Then she caught the tail end of his words. ‘Are you saying you haven’t reported him yet?’ There was more than a little hope in her voice. And he heard it.
Heard it and was less than thrilled about it, if the harsh twist of his lips was anything to go by.
‘No such luck, Miss Woods. The authorities in Vegas have been informed of the theft and your brother will face the consequences of his actions when I find him, but you can help mitigate the extent of his punishment by telling me where he is now.’
Her breath snagged in her lungs. ‘You want me to help you put my own brother behind bars?’ she whispered in a voice that felt as weak as her legs.
‘He’s committed a crime. Are you naive enough to think he can walk away from it scot-free?’ the powerful man in front of her demanded.
She swallowed. ‘I have nothing else to say to you so if that’s all you’re here for—’
‘Are you sure you wish to make an enemy of me?’
‘What I wish is to be left alone, Mr Christofides. So far all I have is your word that Ben has done anything wrong. Do you even have any proof that he stole...whatever it is you say he stole?’
‘One hundred thousand dollars in cash and four pieces of jewellery totalling another hundred thousand dollars. And a priceless family heirloom.’
That last one. Sage heard the peculiar note in his voice and knew it was the last item that had brought Xandro Christofides across the country to her doorstep. She wanted to ask what it was, why it was so important to him. But to do so would mean remaining in his presence, under his control, attempting to withstand those intense magnetic waves lashing at her. It would also give him the impression that she believed him.
‘I’m sorry you’ve lost your belongings. But I can’t help you.’
Sage intended to walk away after that final statement. Head down the side street, turn left and walk to the subway station that would take her home to the townhouse she shared with six other dancers in Georgetown.
But for some reason she couldn’t move. The look in his piercing, narrowed eyes wouldn’t let her. The chilling message in them told her to rethink her course of action. For one blind moment, she wanted to confess that she believed him. That she knew her brother was capable of everything Xandro Christofides was accusing him of. That she would help him find Ben if he promised the leniency he’d hinted at.
The faint pain in her right wrist, the result of a fracture that had never quite healed properly, dragged her back to reality. She tightened her hand on her backpack, silently centring herself on what was important.
Ben deserved her loyalty. Always.
‘Goodbye, Mr Christofides.’
For a taut few seconds he didn’t answer. Then, ‘Goodnight, Miss Woods.’
There was no inflexion in his response, no indication that they would ever meet again. But as she walked away Sage couldn’t stop the tingling at her nape or the premonition that the billionaire hotelier boss her brother had griped about for several months was far from done with her.
* * *
It was that premonition that kept her awake long into the following six nights, even though she continued to reassure herself he had no power over her. She’d refused his demands and walked away. End of story.
Except she’d spent long hours frantically calling her brother’s phone with frustrated tears brimming her eyes when her messages filled his inbox and she finally had to give up. Sleep was a snatched few hours before she had to be up and ready to head to her day job as a barista in the coffee shop attached to the Hunter Dance Company.
Sage had been lucky to land the job after another dancer had won a coveted full-time job as one of the Hunter Dance Company’s performers, although it was a bittersweet one since her ultimate ambition was to win that same place as a Hunter contemporary dancer.
She didn’t make the cut at the last auditions but since then she’d put in an extra five hours of training per week. She would be ready for the auditions next month. She had to be. Her meagre savings had dwindled to almost nothing, with everything she made from working in the coffee shop going to pay for food and her exorbitant rent. She needed to land a proper full-time job soon.
Because the alternative didn’t bear thinking about. She had to succeed because going back home wasn’t an option. She’d closed that door. Until her parents accepted her it would stay shut. After three years the painful memories remained as sharp as ever. But to stay in Virginia, waiting to take over the reins of the generations-old hotel and B & B business they ran, would’ve been to give in and then suffer a slow withering of her spirit.
Thoughts of her parents threatened to induce the despair she’d fought so hard to suppress. So instead she turned her thoughts to her brother.
And again her heart dipped with alarm. Thankfully, Xandro Christofides hadn’t made a return visit to the Performance School. Although that had surprised her a little, her paramount emotion was relief.
Now all she needed was to hear from Ben and get his side of the story. Hopefully he’d have an acceptable explanation so they could put this incident behind them.
‘Morning, sunshine—uh, scratch that. I feel like that should be Morning, rain clouds. Everything okay?’ Michael, her co-worker and a fellow dancer, stepped behind the counter and stared at her with a frown.
Sage slipped her phone into her apron pocket and summoned a smile. ‘I’m fine. Thanks,’ she tagged on when he continued to stare at her sceptically.
‘I’m not sure I totally believe that, but anyway, what I’m about to tell you will put some happy in your step. Guaranteed!’
‘Okay, I’m all ears,’ she responded, simply because she needed something to take her mind off worrying about Ben, and whether the enigmatic Greek tycoon she’d wasted time Internet-searching had found her brother yet.
‘You know we were told there were only three places for the audition spots next month?’
Her heart dipped and she clenched her belly in preparation for bad news. ‘Yes?’
‘Well, I hear there are six spots now!’
Sage gasped. ‘Really? How come?’
‘Because we have a new patron.’
She refused to let hope soar. Not when this might be second or even third-hand gossip. ‘Are you sure?’
Michael shrugged. ‘It’s all hush-hush, but the director’s been locked in meetings off-site for the last two days. I hear she’s contorting herself into the godmother of pretzel positions to accommodate this new patron.’
Sage frowned, the hope she didn’t want to entertain, dimming a little. ‘How could you possibly know that?’
Michael looked a little hurt. ‘Because I trust my source. If they say Hunter has a new patron waiting in the wings, then I believe them.’
She sighed under her breath. ‘I’m not doubting you, Michael. It’s just that we’ve been down this road before and—’
‘Yes, I know. Sure, last time my intel that we had a new patron turned out to be false. But this came straight from the top.’
Sage nodded but kept her scepticism to herself. Even with six spots instead of three the odds were tough, considering there were twenty dancers vying for the positions.
If Michael was right, they’d find out soon enough.
At the Washington Performance School after her shift, she practised and tweaked her seven-minute routine for three hours before she took her first break.
When the faint tingling in her wrist started again, she suppressed the familiar unease that came with it.
‘If you can’t stand a little schoolyard competition, how will you make it on the big stage you so selfishly crave?’
She pushed her father’s heavy, condemning voice away and reminded herself how far she’d come. She was good enough. Her wrist was strong enough. Ultimately, she had Ben to thank for her healing too, because he was the only one who’d believed her.
A little desperate to hear his voice, she sent him another frantic message. Then, with an hour to burn until she was allotted another training slot, she found herself returning to the Internet search for Xandro Christofides.
The man was richer than Croesus, with a touch more potent than Midas if the financial media was to be believed. Coupled with dark, brooding, drop-dead gorgeous looks, it was no wonder there were reams of articles written about him. Except most of them only went back to his early twenties, when he’d graduated from Harvard with a business degree in finance and hotel management and a business plan that had seen him become a multimillionaire within two years.
Now thirty-three, Xandro Christofides had taken that same plan and turned himself into a casino and hotel magnate, providing first-class luxury and decadence to the richest of the rich.
Before twenty-one, nothing could be found on the man, save for the rumour that he’d grown up in the roughest suburbs of New York. That explained the layer of hard ruthlessness that clung to him despite his designer clothes and feline grace.
A layer that attracted beautiful women to the enigmatic man. Picture after picture showed him with dazzling females smiling up at him, clinging to his arm, their possessiveness blatant. All while he stared stony-faced into the camera.
Xandro Christofides was a stranger to the art of smiling. Sure, their encounter so far hadn’t lent itself towards affable banter, but she doubted he smiled at any other time. He didn’t seem the type. In fact, he seemed impervious to anything besides making money and dating beautiful women.
A quick look through his company history also showed he was one hundred per cent owner of every venture, with no collaborations or business partners. He’d even stated as much during an interview.
‘I prefer complete control. I don’t like to share. What is mine belongs only to me.’
Apprehension danced down her spine. The man was addicted to control. It spoke volumes that he had travelled from the West Coast in search of Ben when he could’ve let the authorities or the many minions in his employ deal with it.
So why had he just given up?
Sage noticed she’d been staring at his image for five minutes and grimaced. Resolutely, she cancelled the search then returned to her training.
Four hours later, exhausted, she let herself into the townhouse where she lived. At almost ten o’clock on a Friday night the house was thankfully empty, the other dancers having hit the town. In the kitchen, she fixed herself a quick sandwich, then dug through her rucksack for the five-pound dumbbell she always carried with her. She was halfway through her wrist-strengthening routine when her phone blared to life.
She stared at the number on her screen for a startled second before she slid her thumb across the screen. ‘Hello?’
‘Miss Woods?’ a no-nonsense female voice enquired.
‘Yes?’
‘This is Melissa Hunter, director of the Hunter Dance Company.’
‘Uh...hi.’
‘My apologies for calling you so late,’ the director said.
‘That’s okay.’ Sage stopped and cleared her throat, setting her dumbbell down to grip the edge of the kitchen counter. ‘How can I help you?’ she asked cautiously.
‘I have news on the next set of auditions.’
Sage’s grip tightened, her heart diving into her stomach. ‘Okay...’
‘The company’s circumstances have changed a little and we’ve decided to bring the auditions forward. Next Tuesday, to be precise. Successful applicants will be given a place in the next Hunter Dance Company production slated for September. I know this is short notice, but if you still wish to be a part of it I need a yes tonight.’
Sage stared blindly into space for a shocked three seconds before her brain kicked into gear. ‘I...of course. My answer is yes. To all of it!’
‘Great. My assistant will be in touch in the morning with further details.’
‘Thank you, Miss Hunter.’
‘You’re welcome. Oh, before I go, you should know that these auditions are going to be held off-site.’
‘That won’t be a problem,’ Sage hurriedly reassured.
‘Good. My assistant will require your travel documents when she calls. Be sure to have them ready. We’re very pressed for time.’
‘Thank you,’ she murmured again. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘I have other dancers to contact, Miss Woods. Expect my assistant’s call.’ She hung up abruptly, leaving Sage staring at the dead phone in her hand.
A full minute later, the enormity of the call sank in but the smile that broke over her face dimmed all too soon when she realised she had no one to celebrate her news with.
Calling her parents was out of the question. They would have no interest in her news. Not when they’d dismissed her passion and chosen career as callously as they’d dismissed what the bullies at her high school had put her through.
‘Havenwoods is your legacy. That’s all that matters.’
Unwilling to succumb to the quiet despair threatening to mar her happiness, she picked up the dumbbell and finished her routine. Now, more than ever, she couldn’t afford for her body to let her down. Or for any self-doubt to seep through the brick wall she’d erected around the one thing that mattered most to her.
Nothing could go wrong with her audition. Not even worry about Ben and the possibility that he could end up in jail in the very near future if the ruthless Xandro Christofides had anything to do with it.
When she woke up a little bleary-eyed the next morning Sage told herself it was thoughts of Ben’s whereabouts that had made her dream so vividly about the silver-eyed magnate.
She was still trying to convince herself of that when her phone rang. Sage pounced on it, hoping it was Ben. It wasn’t. But the friendlier tone of Melissa Hunter’s assistant was equally welcome. Until Sage absorbed what she was saying.
‘Excuse me—could you repeat that, please?’ she asked.
‘I said you need to pack enough clothes for a week, maybe more. And also pack for the warm weather. Bring lots of sunscreen too. It’s only early May but I understand the temperatures can get quite high on the island.’
Sage blinked. ‘What island?’ she blurted.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Woods, but the exact destination is being kept confidential for now for publicity purposes. All you need to know is that you and the other dancers fly out of Dulles Airport on Monday afternoon. Everything else, including all your expenses, is taken care of.’
She suddenly felt a little uneasy. ‘Does this have anything to do with the new patron of the company?’
A few seconds of silence greeted her question, then the assistant giggled. ‘I guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh? Oh, what the heck. Yes, it is,’ she gushed. ‘You didn’t hear this from me, but the patron is investing in five years’ worth of productions, three productions a year, minimum! Isn’t it amazing? And if I’d known trips like this would come as part of the perks I’d have trained as a dancer myself, not be sitting here, eight months pregnant and barely able to waddle!’
Sage laughed, breathing a little easier now one question had been answered. ‘Good luck with the baby. And thanks for letting me know.’
‘No problem. Remember, the car service will arrive to pick you up at one o’clock sharp. Make sure you’re ready. And enjoy your adventure!’
CHAPTER FOUR (#u48d0685e-921d-54c4-ba6f-b4e71b472d04)
ENJOY YOUR ADVENTURE.
Three days later, as she stood frozen, her mind spinning, Sage wanted to curse the effervescent assistant for jinxing what should’ve been the perfect culmination of her hard work.
The wobbles of the first audition had calmed by the second, the bone-deep knowledge that this was what she was born for slicing away the ever-present self-doubt. Her third audition had ended twenty minutes ago and had gone even better. She’d known it even before receiving encouraging praise from the two Broadway choreographers who’d accompanied Melissa Hunter to the Greek island in the middle of the Aegean.
As for the island itself...
The ballroom she stood in was only a fraction less enthralling when compared to the jaw-dropping beauty of the island. At first, when she and her nineteen fellow dancers had arrived, she’d thought she was severely jet-lagged and dreaming the stunning beauty of Ianthe Island.
Every room, nook and cranny of the endlessly sprawling villa revealed a stunning blend of classic Greek architecture and modern style she’d only ever seen in glossy magazines. Marble sculptures of Greek gods vied with contemporary art. Breathtaking sunsets competed with stunning lighting that threw the whole island into a place of wonder come nightfall.
The guest room she’d been shown into by an impeccably dressed housekeeper was so gorgeous she’d been almost too afraid to sleep on the four-poster bed for fear she’d ruin the pristine Egyptian cotton sheets.
None of that beauty registered now, as her frantic gaze settled on the man who’d been absent for the three auditions but had now materialised out of nowhere, her heart dropping because she knew exactly what he was doing here.
She and her fellow dancers had stood at the window an hour ago and watched the sleek helicopter fly over the villa to land on an out-of-view helipad at the back of the property. Agog, they’d all speculated as to who was on board and how it impacted their presence here.
Now she had her evidence.
Her gaze raked him from head to toe, praying he would disappear in a burst of smoke. Or fire. Or a damn blizzard. Anything.
Her fervent wishes didn’t materialise. She wasn’t jet-lagged and she wasn’t dreaming.
Xandro Christofides was really sitting in the throne-like chair in front of her as though he were master of all he surveyed, his gaze conducting a thorough scrutiny of his own over her body, making her wish she’d thrown a sweatshirt over her leotard and leggings.
Her hackles rose higher as the unease she’d felt in DC came roaring back with a vengeance. Timings and too-good-to-be-true coincidences tumbled through her mind, and dread that she’d been manipulated grew too large to dismiss.
She tried to caution herself not to jump to conclusions about the Greek magnate’s presence here until she had all the facts. But the blaring of her instincts was all too familiar.
And everything pointed to the fact that Xandro Christofides’s presence here, in this place, wasn’t by accident.
Sage wrestled down rising panic and looked properly at the man.
With one leg crossed indolently over the other, he stared back at her, a mocking gleam in his eyes telling her he knew the exact effect his presence was having on her. He had her exactly where he wanted her. And he was enjoying the hell out of it.
‘What are you doing here?’ she blurted when it all got too much and she had no choice but to take the bull by the horns or scream her frustration.
Melissa Hunter jerked up from her seat, her impeccably made-up face tightening with displeasure. ‘Miss Woods, I’m going to assume the acoustics in the room just played tricks on me and you didn’t demand to know what Mr Christofides is doing here!’
Sage pursed her lips hard to keep from snapping out the other dozen questions burning on her tongue. ‘I’m... I’m...’
‘Apology accepted,’ Xandro Christofides drawled lazily, the gleam in his eyes growing by the second.
She lowered her gaze to hide her blazing need to glare, and took a deep sustaining breath.
‘From the ominous rumble of thunder I’m hearing, I assume you two know each other?’ Leonard Smith, the well-known Broadway choreographer, asked after a minute of awkward silence.
‘Yes, you could say we’re...acquainted,’ Xandro offered.
The other three judges exchanged looks. When Melissa’s eyes narrowed ominously, Sage’s already plummeting heart dropped a little bit more.
She didn’t want to think the whiff of cloak-and-dagger surrounding their travel from Washington, DC, to Greece had all been because of this.
Xandro Christofides was an indecently wealthy man with time to plot something like this just to teach her a lesson because she’d refused to answer his questions about Ben. Or had he drawn a blank in his search for her brother?
She searched his granite-hard, utterly breathtaking face for answers. All she got back was a cocked eyebrow and inscrutable silver-grey eyes that told her he’d divulge his intentions only when he was well and truly ready.
The sense of déjà vu that assailed her tightened her chest. Once again someone was attempting to control her, threatening the one thing she treasured most in order to bring her to heel for their own purposes. The bitter taste in her mouth was hard to swallow, as was the notion that she’d been foolish enough to think Xandro Christofides had given up and walked away. Even from wherever he’d retreated to after that night in Washington, he’d been pulling her strings.
Melissa Hunter cleared her throat, redirecting Sage’s attention back to her. ‘Since it seems you already know Hunter Dance Company’s latest patron, I won’t bother with introductions—’
‘We will say, however,’ Leonard said in a droll voice, completely unapologetic about interrupting Melissa, ‘that your last audition was as impressive as the other two. So good, in fact, that I’m almost tempted to give you a role in my next—’
‘Let’s not lose sight of why Miss Woods is here, shall we?’ Xandro interjected with a soft but deadly bite to his voice that stopped Leonard’s words cold. ‘She’s here under the auspices of Hunter Dance Company. Any deviation from that role will result in an immediate end to her auditions. Isn’t that right, Melissa?’ he asked without taking his eyes off Sage.
Melissa, lips pursed, glared at Leonard. ‘Yes. So try not to dangle your questionable carrots in front of my dancers before this process is over, would you, Leo?’
‘Gosh, everyone’s so touchy,’ Leonard mumbled, but Sage caught a cheeky smirk as he winked at her.
‘As I was saying,’ Melissa continued, ‘we wanted to let everyone know that Mr Christofides isn’t just our latest patron, he’s also, as of this morning, the majority shareholding member of the board of directors of Hunter Dance Company. Which means, were you to become a member of this company, you’ll be answerable to him as well as to me.’
Whatever lingering hope she’d clung onto that this was all a nightmare she would wake up from any second promptly evaporated. Had her feet not stopped working in that moment, Sage would’ve walked away.
After years of blatant disbelief from her parents about her being bullied, followed by subtle hints that their support would only come if she gave up her dancing, she’d finally drawn a very painful line in the sand. A line they’d repeatedly attempted to persuade her to remove, until three years ago when she’d promised herself never to fall victim to mind games again.
She’d walked away. She’d chosen herself. She’d chosen the one thing that made her feel alive and gave her purpose.
Her dancing was the reason she woke up in the morning. She wasn’t going to let Xandro Christofides mess with it. Even if it meant walking away. For now.
She sucked in another breath and addressed Melissa. ‘Thanks for giving me the chance. I really appreciate it. Have a good day.’ With a nod at the choreographers, she turned to leave the ballroom.
‘Miss Woods?’ Melissa called out sharply.
Sage gritted her teeth and turned. ‘Yes?’
‘I wasn’t quite finished. Mr Christofides and I will be reviewing the audition tapes this afternoon and we will be announcing the twelve finalists at dinner tonight.’
What’s the point of telling me? she wanted to scream.
She bared her teeth at him in a false smile. ‘Great. I hope you find what you’re looking for.’
‘Thank you. I have no doubt that I will,’ he replied. It might have sounded like a coolly cordial response, but his eyes told a very different story.
Xandro Christofides was far from done with her.
To achieve that, though, he would need her cooperation on some level. And she wasn’t about to give him that. She was done with being manipulated.
She muttered a half-hearted response and quickly left the room. The nineteen other dancers gathered in the large reception room next to the ballroom would be expecting her to return and report on what had transpired next door. That was the frenzied nature of auditions. Michael especially, who’d also made the trip to the island, would be dying to dissect every word a thousand different ways.
Sage couldn’t face it. Not when she knew in her bones that her brother’s boss had staged every second of her auditions.
* * *
Once in the dressing room of her bedroom suite, she gathered her belongings. She was stuffing them into her small case when she heard a knock. She grimaced and held her breath, hoping whoever it was would give up and go away.
After a minute, the knock came again, firmer this time.
She dragged her suitcase into the bedroom and tossed it on the bed. ‘Come in,’ she called out half-heartedly.
She was reaching up to untie the knot she’d put her hair into for her audition when the door opened and her breath was knocked out of her lungs.
The man filling the doorway with his broad shoulders and overpowering personality was the last person she wanted to see.
Her hand dropped like a stone to her side as Xandro Christofides sauntered into the room, one side of his sensual, mocking mouth lifting in a parody of a smile at what must have been a comical expression on her face.
She unfroze when he was halfway across the room. ‘What are you doing here?’ she blurted, as she’d done downstairs.
‘You don’t recall inviting me in a second ago?’ he drawled.
‘You know what I mean!’
‘Do I?’ He shrugged. ‘I think I know what you mean, but I also know that specificity when it comes to important matters is paramount. So let me try to answer your question as broadly as I can. I’m in this room because you invited me in. I’m in this villa because I own it. I’m on this island because I own that too.’
‘Believe it or not, I had worked that out for myself. I meant: what do you want with me, here, right now? We covered everything we needed to cover downstairs.’
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but we didn’t even come close.’
‘Right, you need more time to gloat? Well, get it out of your system quickly. I won’t be gracing you with my presence for much longer.’
She had to accept, no matter how painfully, that Hunter was off her list. But there were other dance companies out there. Several in New York that she could audition for. She’d been through worse setbacks. Her high school torturers had literally tried to break her. Her parents’ lack of support had nearly broken her spirit. Sage knew she hadn’t come out completely unscathed—the occasional pain in her wrist and the bruise she carried in her soul would always be a reminder of what she’d sacrificed for her dancing.
But she wasn’t going to give up.
For a tall and impressively built man, Xandro Christofides could freeze in place with the stillness that a performer like her could envy. If she wasn’t busy shoving the last of her belongings in her bag and wishing him to hell at the same time.
‘Are you going somewhere?’ he asked with a definite chill in his voice.
She gave a small bark of laughter. ‘Of course I am. Isn’t it obvious?’ She stopped for a few seconds, the anguish of dreams dashed momentarily lancing her hard enough to rob her of breath. She fought to regroup and tugged one strap of her rucksack over her shoulder. ‘Congratulations, though. I guessed something was up, but I didn’t quite see this coming.’
‘By this you mean...?’
She let loose the glare she’d withheld downstairs. ‘Oh, don’t play the innocent with me. Are you going to deny that you manipulated me into coming here? That it wasn’t your intention all along to dangle the promise of a position at Hunter’s in front of me, watch me kill myself to get it, and laugh yourself silly before yanking it away from me? Well, I’m not going to stay here and give you the sordid pleasure. I hate being controlled, Mr Christofides, so yes, I’m leaving. Right now.’
He barely flinched at her accusation. ‘You haven’t got the position yet. But if you insist on leaving before the auditions are over, then so be it. I look forward to receiving your cheque before you leave.’
Her grip tightened convulsively on her suitcase. ‘My cheque? What cheque?’
‘Along with the confidentiality papers you signed, you also agreed that if you chose to end this process early you would bear the cost of your travel and accommodation. I can have my accountants work out the cost of first class travel from the States and your food and board on a private island for the last three days for you if you wish? I pay them enough to ensure they’ll have the information for me within the hour.’
Shock tightened her insides. ‘You are not serious!’
‘I never joke about the small print, Miss Woods. Trust me on that.’
He never joked about anything. Wasn’t that the conclusion she’d arrived at soon after meeting him?
‘I didn’t mean you were joking about the small print. I mean you’re not serious about demanding all of that from me...’ Oh, but he was. His intent was written clear on his face. ‘I can’t pay you back...not that sort of money,’ she muttered, and had the strongest suspicion that he knew that, too.
‘Then perhaps you should rethink any hasty decisions you intend to make in the name of standing your ground, hmm?’ He held out his hand for her suitcase.
She gripped it tighter. ‘All this, so you can what? Toy with me for a little longer? Show me who’s in charge? Or is this where you apply a little more pressure on me to tell you where Ben is?’
His hand dropped. ‘This is where you stop throwing a tantrum, return your suitcase to your dressing room and go downstairs to await your fate, just like all the other dancers.’
‘But we both know I’m nothing like them,’ she replied. He’d cornered her. And where her parents had tried to break her with their indifference, disbelief and eventual estrangement, he was threatening her with financial ruin. The ashen taste in her mouth intensified.
His gaze went to the top of her head, a peculiar fire lighting the piercing depths as he took his time to trace her face, her body down to her toes and back up again. ‘No, I dare say you’re not. But then every performer has the right to believe they’re a special snowflake, don’t they?’
Somewhere along that disturbing scrutiny, her breath had strangled in her throat. Now the subtle dig struck a little too close to home. Similar taunts had been the start of endless years of torture she’d received from mean girls because her talent had been noticed and nurtured by her high school drama teacher.
Distress at the recurring memories gave way to a spark of anger. ‘I don’t think I’m a special snowflake, but I am enlightened enough to question your motives where I’m concerned. Can you look me in the eyes and tell me our meeting two weeks ago has nothing to do with my presence here?’
‘Of course it does. Our meeting led directly to an investment in Hunter’s that I’m hoping will bear fruit for years to come.’
Sage hid her surprise that he was freely admitting to it. ‘And this investment fell into your lap, just like that?’ she challenged.
His jaw clenched for a long moment, and she got the distinct impression he was recalling a very private memory. ‘No, Miss Woods. Nothing worthwhile comes about just like that. But I wouldn’t be good at what I do if I didn’t spot an opportunity when I come across it. Hunter Dance Company has the potential, with the right guidance, to become a great investment. I would’ve been remiss not to seize it.’
‘So this has nothing to do with me?’ she pressed, wanting a reassurance she knew would be false.
‘I’m not in the habit of investing several million dollars in a company on a whim. Make of that what you will.’ He strode to the door. With one hand on the handle, he turned. ‘If you still intend to leave today, let my housekeeper know within the hour. It’ll give me time to draw up a bill of costs before you go.’
He exited the room, sucking out all the oxygen with him.
She had no idea how much a first-class ticket from DC to Greece cost, nor did she have the first clue how much it cost to stay on a private island with a dozen staff waiting hand and foot on guests. What she did know was that, with less than a thousand dollars in her bank account, she could ill afford it.
That was most likely what Xandro had counted on. Their encounters to date might have been relatively short and sour, but it was clear he calculated his moves a dozen steps ahead before he played a single hand. He’d controlled every single move, right down to his appearance here this morning.
Almost on automatic, she returned her suitcase to the dressing room, emptied its contents back onto the shelf and stashed the case in the provided cubbyhole.
She was still perched on her bed a long while later, contemplating ways to evade the unbreakable net she could feel closing in on her, when the housekeeper came to announce that a buffet lunch was served on the terrace outside.
As Sage trudged downstairs, she realised that at no point had Xandro Christofides revealed to her just what he intended her fate to be. Just as he’d refrained from pointing out why he’d come to her bedroom in the first place.
She found out several hours later that he intended to carry on with his mind games when, with a few simply uttered words, Melissa held out a tantalising glimpse of Sage’s dream, now just one seven-minute audition away from coming true.
‘You’ve made it through to the final twelve, Miss Woods. One more step and you could be part of the Hunter Dance Company. Congratulations,’ the director announced with a toast of champagne once their dinner plates had been cleared away.
She forced herself to respond to the felicitations. To nod and smile and agree that yes, it was awesome and everything she’d worked so hard to achieve.
But Sage couldn’t stop the premonition blooming that she’d just been handed her worst nightmare. And that Xandro was still very much in control of it.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u48d0685e-921d-54c4-ba6f-b4e71b472d04)
SHE WAS A good actress. He had to give her that.
Her smiles and laughter as she accepted the good wishes from her colleagues seemed genuine. But Xandro spotted the apprehension that crossed her face when her place among the finalists was announced. He’d also caught the brief glimpse of sadness in her eyes. As if the announcement had come with unwanted news that her favourite puppy had suddenly died. More likely it was because someone she’d wanted to celebrate with was absent. He didn’t have to think very hard to know who was missing. Her brother.
He knew the feeling. He’d celebrated every successful achievement with his mother. Each time he’d taken her to her favourite restaurant. Each time she’d worn her favourite necklace. The first time he’d celebrated a success after her death, he’d sat in the restaurant on his own, attempting to hold his grief at bay. It was then he’d vowed to cherish the necklace he’d once hated so much.
The necklace now in Benjamin Woods’s possession.
He should’ve felt satisfaction that Sage’s celebration had been marred in some way. Perhaps deep down he did, but that emotion was overridden by the fury and hollow sensation that continued to hold him prisoner.
He’d thought making meticulous plans to ensure her compliance would diminish his sense of loss. Instead it’d only intensified it.
It didn’t help that Benjamin Woods had proven an elusive and wily thief, continuing to evade his every attempt to locate him. If he weren’t growing increasingly incandescent, he would be grudgingly impressed at the man’s abilities.
But he didn’t intend that state of play to continue. He had Sage Woods exactly where he wanted her.
* * *
She was fiercely ambitious, even more than he’d initially predicted. By all accounts, she’d dedicated the last three years of her life pursuing one thing only—to become a dancer with Hunter Dance Company instead of learning the ropes to become a hotelier like her parents. And, as with most people with such a single-minded focus, that was both a strength and a weakness.
Xandro took a sip of the full-bodied Merlot, meeting her furtive gaze where she stood halfway down the long banquet table in his formal dining room, and almost smiled to himself. He was marginally satisfied that she wasn’t completely oblivious to his intentions. He was tired of keeping his emotions under wraps. And while he admitted that bringing his emotions into play wasn’t the best decision here, he couldn’t help himself.
Apart from the inconvenience of chasing his necklace, his latest negotiations with the Macau-based hotel magnate were suffering, and that displeased him greatly. If directing that displeasure at the woman dressed in a dark green dress that showed off her toned shoulders, arms and disturbingly shapely legs brought him a little relief then he would take it, he decided.
He watched her congratulate her colleagues who had also made the cut. Xandro silently observed one of them grab her in a bear hug, watching her throw her head back in laughter before punching him on the shoulder.
Momentarily absorbed by the dining room chandelier lights playing on her fiery red hair, he didn’t notice the familiarity between the two until the guy slid one arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side while reaching for a bottle of champagne in a nearby bucket with the other.
‘Your next auditions are early in the morning, are they not?’ Xandro tried very hard to remove his gaze from the male hand dangling irritatingly close to Sage’s left breast.
Heads turned his way. The table grew a little quieter. ‘Yes. We start at eight,’ a young woman at the far end of the table responded.
Xandro’s gaze stayed on Sage and the man who continued to hold her to his side. ‘Then perhaps you should indulge a little less, no?’ he suggested. ‘It’s also a little ungracious, don’t you think, to be celebrating in front of your colleagues who weren’t lucky enough to progress to the last stage?’
Silence descended on the table. A few throats cleared. A trace of guilt crossed Sage’s face. Mark or Matt, or whatever the hell the male dancer’s name was, slowly placed the champagne back on the table.
‘At Hunter’s we celebrate our victories and commiserate on our losses together,’ Melissa said. ‘I’m sure you’ll agree that in this business, as with any other, developing a thick skin is vital. Delicate egos and spirits that are easily crushed have no business here.’
Xandro noticed Sage’s tiny flinch and tucked that morsel away. ‘I agree. But there’s a quiet dignity in knowing you’re victorious without the need to rub it in others’ faces, is there not?’
Sage’s gaze returned to his, staying for a moment this time, as she tried to read beneath his words. Xandro lifted an eyebrow at her but her expression was shuttered.
‘Quite right.’ The British choreographer whose name Xandro couldn’t quite remember downed his whisky and stood. ‘On that sound note, I’m calling it a night. Congratulations again, my dear,’ he said, stepping up to Sage to kiss her on the cheeks.
While the move dislodged the male dancer’s arm from around her shoulders—easing the band of irritation around Xandro’s chest—he found himself frowning.
The choreographer’s exit triggered a hurried exodus by the dancers who’d lost out.
‘I’m going to bed, too. Goodnight,’ Sage said, turning towards the door.
Xandro had every intention of remaining in his seat. Melissa wanted a word with him after dinner. She clearly had more than that on her mind, but he wasn’t interested in anything other than a business discussion.
But a minute after Sage’s departure, and seconds after the male dancer had also exited, taking the champagne bottle with him, Xandro was striding out of the dining room. His curt, ‘Goodnight,’ left a very disappointed and disgruntled Melissa staring after him.

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