Читать книгу His Mistress By Blackmail - Maya Blake - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

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.