His Mistress By Blackmail. Maya Blake

His Mistress By Blackmail - Maya  Blake


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      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


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