His Mistress by Blackmail

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 q

uicker 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.