His Mistress by Blackmail

She struggled to recall. Melissa had sent three choreographed routines the week before. The one she was working on was the final one. ‘It’s called Resistance.’

He nodded. Looked around. Then back at her. ‘May I stay?’ he asked. The request was unexpected, as was the plea in it.

Her already feeble resolve weakened further. ‘Okay, if you want to.’

‘I want to. Very much.’

The way he said the words heightened the voltage of awareness inside her. It grew steadily as he dropped her wrist, picked up his water and walked backwards, away from her, to lean against the wall.

Watching. Waiting.

She dragged her gaze from his hypnotic one and picked up the remote.

The first strains of her favourite music filled the room. She discarded the towel and water, fighting the nerves swarming inside her.

Without taking his eyes off her, he took a drink from his own bottle then slid down the glass wall onto the floor.

‘You may begin.’

Self-consciousness while dancing had never been an issue. Until now. Perhaps it was the discussion of her injury, and the knowledge that she’d almost given up after that low point in her life, that made her feel raw now. Or the desire to prove to him, and to herself, that her passion burned brighter than ever.

Whatever the reason, Sage wanted to give the best performance of her life.

She spread her arms wide, feeling the power and joy tingle up from her toes, taking over the pain in her heart to settle deep in her soul.

The travelling pirouettes took her from one end of the room to the other. By the time she reversed position and executed the first arabesque, the nerves had dispersed.

Instinct and hours of practice made the movement flow from her core, the joy she’d felt from the first time she’d danced fizzing through her blood. As she twisted, leapt and turned, the tricky part of the routine she’d been practising all day grew closer. She hadn’t perfected it yet, so she almost bypassed it to finish with a move she knew by heart. At the last moment, she decided to go for it. The slow back bend was melting and effortless, and holding herself up on her fingers and toes made her feel as if she were floating on air. But it was the power she needed to snap her lower body into an upside down split that gave her a moment’s pause.

With a deep breath, she planted her hands on the floor and drove up with everything she had.

Xandro’s stunned hiss was even sweeter music to her ears than the triumph of executing the move. She never looked his way though, never stopped until the routine was done.

She straightened from her crouched position, flushed, infinitely thrilled, and watched him slowly rise from the floor. Chest rising and falling, he came towards her, a predator fixated on her.

His jaw was set and a ferocious light blazed in his eyes that reached out and singed her. ‘I’m glad you’re not running a hotel in rural

Virginia, Sage, because you are a truly exceptional dancer.’ His voice was gravel-rough, terse with an emotion she couldn’t decipher. ‘I can’t take my eyes off you.’

‘Th...thank you.’

He stepped closer, remorselessly invading her space. But this time she didn’t move or demand he step away. They were caught in the grip of a fever she wasn’t sure she wanted to escape.

‘We’re not in public so I won’t attempt to instigate another publicity-seeking stunt. But I would very much like to taste you again.’

‘Xandro... I don’t think it’s—’

He stepped closer still, until his mouth was a hair’s breadth from hers. ‘Don’t think. Follow through on this raw, beautiful emotion and just kiss me, Sage,’ he muttered roughly.

Something snapped inside her. She complied because it felt as if she’d waited a lifetime to kiss him since the last time. As if her very soul would wither and die if she didn’t succumb to his demand. Her arms were sliding around his neck before she’d given herself full permission to assuage her terrible hunger.

A second later it was too late to change her mind. But that was fine. This was just a kiss. Like the ones before, it would have a beginning, a middle and end, which would probably lead to another fight and them both going their separate ways.

So when his strong hands gripped her waist, captured and lifted her high as their lips met, fused, then parted in a breathless dance as old as time, Sage went with it.

Because it felt good. But it would end in a moment.

CHAPTER TWELVE