His Mistress By Blackmail. Maya Blake

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

      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