His Mistress by Blackmail

by Maya Blake

  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.

  He reached the bottom of the stairs and stood there, a little perturbed at his own intentions. Why had he come out here? The next phase of his plan was already in place. He just needed to sit back and let it play out.

  Except the thought of sitting back, like everything that had taken place since the theft, just escalated his foul mood and the sensation that the ground was shifting beneath his feet.

  He started up the stairs, then paused when he heard light footsteps approaching from the direction of his east wing hallway. He changed course and a second later the elusive perfume he’d caught this morning when he was in Sage’s room whispered through the air, almost pulling him towards her.

  He found her coming out of the kitchen, a bottle of water in her hand. The hallway wasn’t dark or remotely dangerous, but the way she froze, wary and wide-eyed, they might as well have been in one of the dark alleys in the Bronx where he’d been forced to fight for his survival as a young rebel. It’d been one of those skirmishes in a dark alley that had seen him end up in juvenile detention. He’d thought then that things couldn’t get any bleaker. He’d been wrong.

  Xandro exhaled abruptly, noting that the satisfaction he’d felt earlier, observing her discomfort, no longer lingered. In fact he was growing increasingly irritated by her skittishness around him, and by the fact that every time he was around her he recalled the darker circumstances of a past he’d rather keep under lock and key.

  These days he used his intellect for mastering his opponents in the boardroom but there’d been times when he’d let his height and fists do the talking. He’d had very little choice then, after letting anger and frustration pull him down the wrong path. He’d learned very quickly that the streets were no place for complacency or soft-heartedness. He liked to think that each encounter while he’d been in the gang had been a necessity that prolonged his life, but the memory lived like a burr under his skin now, fused into who he was for ever.

  The charity he’d set up—to build youth centres in his mother’s name to help disadvantaged families in rundown neighbourhoods like the one he’d grown up in—was thriving. He could never wash away the dirty stain of being a gang member, or the knowledge that he’d caused fear and intimidation just by proclaiming himself as a thug, but at least his charity was helping kids like he’d once been.

  And the one small satisfaction he could find in all the past mess was that he’d never stooped to stealing from anyone. Witnessing his family’s pain and disgrace on that front had imprinted on him a vow never to take what was not his. There were many sins he detested but could forgive. Stealing and everything it entailed struck too close to home to forgive.

  ‘You obviously came looking for me. Again. So are you going to say something or is this a staring contest?’ Sage demanded, dragging his attention back to the present.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from shoving them through his hair in frustration, and gritted his teeth. ‘Has no one taught you how to tame that tongue?’

  A shadow crossed her face, but she raised her chin. ‘No one’s found fault with it. Until now.’

  He strolled towards her, noting her scent became a little more alluring the closer he got. He inhaled again and drew in a mix of lilac and roses. Xandro found his gaze tracing her slender neck, the valley between her breasts, her wrists, wondering on which pulse points she’d dabbed the scent. When his imagination conjured up a picture of her doing all of the above he gave an inward curse. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  Her gaze flicked past him for a moment before it returned to his. Xandro got the feeling he’d hit a touchy subject.

  ‘What you choose to believe is up to you. May I go now?’ she asked.

  ‘No, you may not. Tell me where your brother is.’

  Her head jerked back a little at his abrupt reply, bringing his attention up to her flaming hair. Yet again. It was coiled in its customary knot on top of her head. As he stared, Xandro was assailed with a driving need to free it, see for himself how long it was. Whether it was as silky as it looked.

  ‘I told you, I don’t know. And no amount of manipulation on your part is going to get you a different answer.’

  He took another step closer. In all their previous meetings she’d either been barefoot or wearing her dancer’s flats. Tonight her heels brought her a little closer to his height although she still had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. As he looked into clear green eyes, he experienced the barest rumble of the earth beneath his feet. Ruthlessly, he pushed the sensation away.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he replied. ‘If I recall, you said you wouldn’t tell me even if you knew.’

  Her gaze remained squarely on his—something most people wouldn’t attempt when it came to face to face confrontations with him. A tiny bit of that grudging respect threatened to surface. ‘That was... I was annoyed with you.’

  ‘Really? Why?’

  ‘You know why. You were overbearing. Same way you’re being now.’

  ‘By all means, don’t hold back.’

  She pursed her lips. ‘Do you enjoy making people feel uncomfortable, Mr Christofides?’ she asked.

  ‘I enjoy stating, and receiving, the truth. Do I make you uncomfortable?’

  Her lips might have flattened but they still drew his attention to their plump, sensual curve, and the mounting need to test if they were as soft as they looked. ‘Not at all. I can’t say the same for everyone in the dining room ten minutes ago, though.’

  ‘You find what I said objectionable?’

  She blinked, and her gaze dropped. ‘Not exactly. I just think you could’ve been a little less preachy about it. You made one half of the room self-conscious about losing and the other half guilty for winning.’

  ‘I speak my mind without seeing the value of couching it in soft words. Which brings me to my next question. Are you sleeping with him?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘With who?’

  He waved a dismissive hand. ‘Matt. Mark. That male dancer.’

  Delicately winged eyebrows rose. ‘Michael?’

  ‘Whatever. Are you?’ he pressed, telling himself he needed an outlet for his rumbling emotions, and perhaps changing the subject was the best way to achieve that.

  She inhaled sharply. ‘What business is it of yours?’

  ‘A sexual relationship has the potential to disrupt the dynamics of the dance company, so that makes it very much my business. Answer the question, Miss Woods.’

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘Or I’ll get the answers I seek from Maxwell.’

  ‘Michael.’
r />   He waited, noting that knot of irritation, far from dissipating, was tightening.

  ‘No, I’m not sleeping with him. He’s just a friend.’

  His teeth ground together for a bare moment. ‘And you allow all your friends to touch you like that? Or merely those who believe themselves to be potential lovers?’

  Her eyebrows pleated. ‘I’m not sure exactly what you’re implying and frankly this whole conversation is pointless and absurd. Who I let touch me and when really is none of your business. If you’re truly worried about your company’s dynamics, let me assure you that when it’s required of me I’ll show up and deliver one hundred per cent.’

  ‘That’s commendable, but a relationship involves two people. Should you choose to get involved with another member of the company, how would you propose to prevent an adverse fallout when the relationship ends? Dancers aren’t exactly known for their level-headed temperament, are they?’

  ‘What do you want? For me to tell you I have no intention of taking a lover who’s a dancer or involved in my profession on some level for the foreseeable future?’

  Xandro stared at her for a moment until, burning with the need to demand just that from her, he found himself shrugging.

  Her mouth dropped open for a moment before she collected herself. ‘Are you actually serious?’

  ‘If you’re picked to be part of the company, it will be a sacrifice you’ll have to consider making.’ Perhaps he needed to instruct Melissa to add that clause to the contract.

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you. I’m not even a member of Hunter’s yet. And we both know that if you get your way I won’t be, so what do you care one way or the other who I get involved with?’

  ‘You’re wrong. The selection process isn’t up to me. Melissa has total control over who makes the final cut. Your fate is entirely in her hands.’

  Heavy scepticism blazed in her eyes. ‘Oh, come on. You acquired a majority stake in the dance company just to sit back and take the hands-off approach? When, according to you, you believe in complete autonomy when it comes to your companies. I believe your exact words when you were interviewed were, “I prefer complete control. I don’t like to share.”’

  He was unprepared for the very male gratification that lanced him at the thought that she’d taken enough of an interest in him to do some research.

  Her self-conscious flush at his raised eyebrow almost amused him. Except her words were having a less bemused and more carnal effect on him. ‘You’ve been checking up on me?’ he asked.

  Her colour deepened. ‘I was doing my homework on the off-chance you wouldn’t heed my request to leave me alone.’

  ‘Good for you. Well, now you know my stance when it comes to the things I consider mine. And, to answer your question, my success comes from knowing when to allow those with requisite experience to take control. Whether you’re successful this time or not, the company will give me the returns I want. It’s nothing personal.’

  ‘Now it’s my turn to call bull, Mr Christofides.’

  ‘You misunderstand. Until you cooperate with me to find your brother, my interest in you will continue to be personal. And I intend to use every tool at my disposal to achieve that aim.’

  He caught the tiny shiver that raked her body at his words. Her gaze searched his for a long moment before she stepped back. ‘So what you’re saying is that you’re coming after me whether I become a member of the Hunter Dance Company or not?’

  He allowed himself a small smile. ‘Precisely. You can see, therefore, why telling me what I want to know saves us both a huge amount of time and effort.’ He paused when he noticed that she was rubbing her wrist. ‘What’s wrong? Are you in pain?’

  She stiffened and looked down, almost in surprise. Quickly, she stopped the left hand she’d been using to massage her wrist. ‘There’s nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing.’

  The firm denial only prompted him to believe the opposite. Before Xandro could question her further she was speaking again.

  ‘Are we done here? Can I go now?’

  ‘Where is your brother, Miss Woods?’

  Her fingers tightened around the bottle until her knuckles showed white. When her chin lifted and her gaze met his again, he knew what was coming. ‘For the last time, I don’t know where he is. I’ve tried to contact him but he hasn’t returned any of my calls. His message box is full. Or his phone’s disconnected.’

  Since his own investigation had reached the same conclusion, he tried another avenue. ‘But you must have some idea where his usual haunts are. The likely places where he could be hiding.’

  ‘No, I don’t. I have nothing else to add to what I’ve already told you. Goodnight.’

  She stepped around him, keeping a few feet between them. He allowed her to walk a few steps before he spoke. ‘Every day that goes by without my property back in my possession is another day when my patience dwindles, Miss Woods.’ The good, the bad, the ugly. All wrapped up in a few precious gemstones. It was nowhere near the most expensive thing he owned, but it was priceless. ‘Think on that while you sleep.’

  Her back stiffened but her stride didn’t break, nor did she acknowledge his warning.

  He watched her walk away until she was out of sight, with a deep, dark knowledge that he hadn’t admitted the whole truth to himself or to her. His interest in her was personal, as he’d stated. But it was also morphing into something else—something sexual.

  For reasons he didn’t want to probe too deeply—because a part of him didn’t want to find anything in common with her—he was attracted to Sage Woods. Considering he abhorred liars almost as much as he detested thieves, that was insanity. Lies and treachery had led to his family’s downfall, the worst of all perpetrated by the man whose blood ran through Xandro’s veins. The man he’d never once called Father and never intended to.

  Xandro might be called ruthless, arrogant and power-hungry in the boardrooms of the most notable companies in the world, but he never misled and he never lied. His own conception had been based on lies. That was more than enough for him to have to live with.

  He refused to make room for any more so, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why the woman who was blatantly keeping secrets from him affected him with such visceral hunger. Hell, he’d even found himself wondering, as he’d reviewed her audition tapes this afternoon, whether his mother would’ve been as enthralled with her dancing as he was. Whether she would’ve seen the pure exquisiteness that seeped from Sage’s very soul the moment the music started. It was as if she lived and breathed dance.

  All the reasons he’d stated for pursuing Hunter’s were technically sound. The dance company would reap good dividends in the coming years. And yet he knew deep down that Sage was the reason for the unquenchable flame burning inside him. She’d sparked the fire the moment he’d stepped up onto that stage three weeks ago. A fire that, like a moth to a flame, he couldn’t completely resist.

  So what if it’d just taken this long to finally admit it to himself?

  So what if it wasn’t an admission he welcomed?

  Xandro shook his head as he retraced his steps to his study and walked across the large room to the French windows overlooking the pool and well-lit garden.

  Focused on dissecting his unwanted reaction to her, he thought for a moment that his imagination was playing tricks on him until movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention.

  She was tugging off her shoes as she uncapped the bottle of water. After kicking them away, she took a long drink, set the bottle on a nearby table before taking a few steps to the swimming pool.

  His breath snagged somewhere in his chest as she extended one foot and delicately dipped her toes in the water. Xandro exhaled in a mixture of gruff irritation and swelling arousal as the sight of her arched foot caused a hot little tug in his groin.

  Thee mou, what the hell was wrong with him? Of all the women he could have at his disposal, h
e had to be hooked on this one.

  He needed to turn away right now, dismiss her from his mind until the next stage of his plan demanded their interaction.

  And yet he couldn’t move from the window. He watched as, satisfied with the temperature, she took two steps down until her legs were submerged to mid-calves. Then slowly she hitched up her dress.

  Xandro’s hands balled in his pockets, the heat in his groin intensifying. He growled under his breath, thoroughly perplexed and a little disgusted with himself.

  He’d dated many beautiful women, both before and after he’d made his first million dollars. A few of them even had more spectacular legs than Sage Woods. But still he stood there, shamelessly voyeuristic in his scrutiny, unable to summon up even a single image of what those other women looked like.

  He rolled restless shoulders, and told himself there was a reason watching her was beneficial. After all, if she was standing in his pool, drifting her fingers seductively through the water as if she were stroking her lover’s skin, then she wasn’t upstairs, sharing that bottle of champagne with the friend who blatantly wanted to be so much more.

  He was looking after his investment: keeping an eye on his enemy’s proxy.

  Xandro snorted at his self-deception. The only way he could see to nip all this nonsense in the bud was for Sage to confess what she knew about her brother’s whereabouts so he could be done with her.

  Which meant it was time to bring the next stage of his plan into play.

  CHAPTER SIX

  SAGE TRIED TO drown out the memory of Xandro’s deep, disturbingly sexy voice as she went through her stretching routine before her last audition. The butterflies in her belly from knowing she needed to nail this final performance were enough to deal with.

  But that voice...and those eyes had followed her into her sleep and now dogged her waking hours.

  My interest in you will continue to be personal.

  She knew what those words truly meant, and yet each time she recalled them the icy foreboding she anticipated had been replaced by a sizzle in her belly that was slowly driving her nuts. It was that initial unsettling burn that had driven her to the pool last night instead of going to her bedroom when she’d walked away from Xandro. That and the fact he’d caught her nursing her wrist—a telling habit she’d practised hard to overcome. Until very recently. Until Xandro Christofides had entered her life.