Her smiles and laughter as she accepted the good wishes from her colleagues seemed genuine. But Xandro spotted the apprehension that crossed her face when her place among the finalists was announced. He’d also caught the brief glimpse of sadness in her eyes. As if the announcement had come with unwanted news that her favourite puppy had suddenly died. More likely it was because someone she’d wanted to celebrate with was absent. He didn’t have to think very hard to know who was missing. Her brother.
He knew the feeling. He’d celebrated every successful achievement with his mother. Each time he’d taken her to her favourite restaurant. Each time she’d worn her favourite necklace. The first time he’d celebrated a success after her death, he’d sat in the restaurant on his own, attempting to hold his grief at bay. It was then he’d vowed to cherish the necklace he’d once hated so much.
The necklace now in Benjamin Woods’s possession.
He should’ve felt satisfaction that Sage’s celebration had been marred in some way. Perhaps deep down he did, but that emotion was overridden by the fury and hollow sensation that continued to hold him prisoner.
He’d thought making meticulous plans to ensure her compliance would diminish his sense of loss. Instead it’d only intensified it.
It didn’t help that Benjamin Woods had proven an elusive and wily thief, continuing to evade his every attempt to locate him. If he weren’t growing increasingly incandescent, he would be grudgingly impressed at the man’s abilities.
But he didn’t intend that state of play to continue. He had Sage Woods exactly where he wanted her.
* * *
She was fiercely ambitious, even more than he’d initially predicted. By all accounts, she’d dedicated the last three years of her life pursuing one thing only—to become a dancer with Hunter Dance Company instead of learning the ropes to become a hotelier like her parents. And, as with most people with such a single-minded focus, that was both a strength and a weakness.
Xandro took a sip of the full-bodied Merlot, meeting her furtive gaze where she stood halfway down the long banquet table in his formal dining room, and almost smiled to himself. He was marginally satisfied that she wasn’t completely oblivious to his intentions. He wa
s tired of keeping his emotions under wraps. And while he admitted that bringing his emotions into play wasn’t the best decision here, he couldn’t help himself.
Apart from the inconvenience of chasing his necklace, his latest negotiations with the Macau-based hotel magnate were suffering, and that displeased him greatly. If directing that displeasure at the woman dressed in a dark green dress that showed off her toned shoulders, arms and disturbingly shapely legs brought him a little relief then he would take it, he decided.
He watched her congratulate her colleagues who had also made the cut. Xandro silently observed one of them grab her in a bear hug, watching her throw her head back in laughter before punching him on the shoulder.
Momentarily absorbed by the dining room chandelier lights playing on her fiery red hair, he didn’t notice the familiarity between the two until the guy slid one arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side while reaching for a bottle of champagne in a nearby bucket with the other.
‘Your next auditions are early in the morning, are they not?’ Xandro tried very hard to remove his gaze from the male hand dangling irritatingly close to Sage’s left breast.
Heads turned his way. The table grew a little quieter. ‘Yes. We start at eight,’ a young woman at the far end of the table responded.
Xandro’s gaze stayed on Sage and the man who continued to hold her to his side. ‘Then perhaps you should indulge a little less, no?’ he suggested. ‘It’s also a little ungracious, don’t you think, to be celebrating in front of your colleagues who weren’t lucky enough to progress to the last stage?’
Silence descended on the table. A few throats cleared. A trace of guilt crossed Sage’s face. Mark or Matt, or whatever the hell the male dancer’s name was, slowly placed the champagne back on the table.
‘At Hunter’s we celebrate our victories and commiserate on our losses together,’ Melissa said. ‘I’m sure you’ll agree that in this business, as with any other, developing a thick skin is vital. Delicate egos and spirits that are easily crushed have no business here.’
Xandro noticed Sage’s tiny flinch and tucked that morsel away. ‘I agree. But there’s a quiet dignity in knowing you’re victorious without the need to rub it in others’ faces, is there not?’
Sage’s gaze returned to his, staying for a moment this time, as she tried to read beneath his words. Xandro lifted an eyebrow at her but her expression was shuttered.
‘Quite right.’ The British choreographer whose name Xandro couldn’t quite remember downed his whisky and stood. ‘On that sound note, I’m calling it a night. Congratulations again, my dear,’ he said, stepping up to Sage to kiss her on the cheeks.
While the move dislodged the male dancer’s arm from around her shoulders—easing the band of irritation around Xandro’s chest—he found himself frowning.
The choreographer’s exit triggered a hurried exodus by the dancers who’d lost out.
‘I’m going to bed, too. Goodnight,’ Sage said, turning towards the door.
Xandro had every intention of remaining in his seat. Melissa wanted a word with him after dinner. She clearly had more than that on her mind, but he wasn’t interested in anything other than a business discussion.
But a minute after Sage’s departure, and seconds after the male dancer had also exited, taking the champagne bottle with him, Xandro was striding out of the dining room. His curt, ‘Goodnight,’ left a very disappointed and disgruntled Melissa staring after him.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and stood there, a little perturbed at his own intentions. Why had he come out here? The next phase of his plan was already in place. He just needed to sit back and let it play out.
Except the thought of sitting back, like everything that had taken place since the theft, just escalated his foul mood and the sensation that the ground was shifting beneath his feet.
He started up the stairs, then paused when he heard light footsteps approaching from the direction of his east wing hallway. He changed course and a second later the elusive perfume he’d caught this morning when he was in Sage’s room whispered through the air, almost pulling him towards her.