His Mistress By Blackmail

The first rule of blackmail?

Always stay in control

Ruthless Alexandros Christofides will stop at nothing to recover a precious family heirloom—including using delectable dancer Sage Woods as bait! But his plan to blackmail her into compliance unravels when he discovers just how quickly their attraction ignites! Now Xandro’s in danger of forgetting his own rules—because in this game of seduction, there can only be one winner...

MAYA BLAKE’s hopes of becoming a writer were born when she picked up her first romance at thirteen. Little did she know her dream would come true! Does she still pinch herself every now and then to make sure it’s not a dream? Yes, she does! Feel free to pinch her, too, via Twitter, Facebook or Goodreads! Happy reading!

Also by Maya Blake

Brunetti’s Secret Son

A Diamond Deal with the Greek

Signed Over to Santino

The Di Sione Secret Baby

The Boss’s Nine-Month Negotiation

Pregnant at Acosta’s Demand

The Sultan Demands His Heir

Rival Brothers miniseries

A Deal with Alejandro

One Night with Gael

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

His Mistress by Blackmail

Maya Blake

www.millsandboon.co.uk

978-1-474-07183-3

HIS MISTRESS BY BLACKMAIL

© 2018 by Maya Blake

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

CHAPTER ONE

ALEXANDROS CHRISTOFIDES STOOD staring at the space where his prized possession used to sit. Should’ve been sitting. He blinked once. Twice. The tattered brown velvet box didn’t magically appear, as he’d half hoped.

Somehow, despite the painstaking measures he’d put into place, the box wasn’t there. There were other items missing, too. Stacks of pristine hundred-dollar bills, expensive trinkets from his personal jeweller that he’d found over the years quickly healed even the most heartbroken of female hearts when the time came for the inevitable, infamous ‘Xandro Christofides’ exit speech. But it was the absence of the brown velvet box that held his complete attention. The loss was so visceral he carried on staring at the empty oblong-shaped space, disbelief and icy fury building in his veins.

The only other time the box had been out of his possession was when he’d been forced to let it go in order to make the changes he needed to turn his life around. As defining moments went, that had been one of his most memorable.

It had been that or accept that the road he was taking would inevitably lead to his early and most likely senseless demise. The necklace that had dictated his family’s history had formed the cornerstone of his own life. It was and for ever would be more than a piece of jewellery to him. The need to part with it the first time had made him feel just as bereft then as it did now. And it hadn’t only been him. He’d felt his mother’s pain then too, and felt it echo through him now.

This time, however, the loss wasn’t voluntary. Or temporary. Yes, it had taken three long years to get it back the first time, but he’d known where the ruby necklace was every single hour of every day. The deal he’d struck with the pawnshop owner all those years ago had included weekly visual evidence that the necklace was still in his possession. That it was still safe and waiting to be reclaimed the second Xandro was in a strong enough financial position to do so. Sure, it had cost him an extra five per cent interest in the crippling loan he’d taken out but that hadn’t mattered. Whereas the necklace had represented dishonour and disgrace for as long as he could remember, he’d fully intended it to represent something else to him. He’d made that promise with his blood and sweat and his mother’s heartbroken tears. And he’d needed that visual proof that he was on the right track almost as much as he’d needed oxygen in his lungs.

He’d achieved what he initially set out to do, which was to dig himself out of an unpalatable future, and his mother out of drudgery. He’d reacquired the necklace at the very first opportunity, and while he would never be able to look at it without remembering why it was in his possession in the first place, over the years it’d come to represent so much more to him.

Every time he bested an opponent or he won a supposedly unwinnable deal, he knew he owed that success partly to the unquenchable fighting spirit of that first fierce need to succeed in order not to lose the necklace.

Except now it was gone.

A thief had taken his property from him. Someone he trusted had walked into his office and helped themselves to what belonged to him.

Since attaining the kind of power and success most men only dreamed about, Xandro had gone for a very long time without such a daring personal challenge. These days the only challenges he received, and relished, were those thrown down by his opponents in the boardroom. So he had to admit to having a hard time believing the theft had actually happened. But the empty space he was staring at was its own glaring confirmation.

As much as he hated to admit it, because to do so would be to admit weakness he abhorred, he felt as if a part of himself was missing. Not a vital part—he would never allow anything or anyone such power over him. Certainly nothing akin to the emotional distress his mother had exhibited time and again over the necklace. Or the cloak of terror that he himself had lived with for those three years, knowing one wrong move was all it would take for those with a target on his back to crucify him.

He’d crawled out from underneath that terror of being in a gang leader’s crosshairs, and he’d taken his mother away from a life of danger and drudgery.

Those hard years of his youth had left scars, he knew. He’d been accused of being ruthless. Merciless. He’d been labelled cold-hearted by the lovers who were swiftly shown the door after claiming they were absolutely fine with a no-strings relationship only to attempt to tie him down after a few rounds in his bed.

Xandro never intended to forget his past, nor would he ever pine for love the way his mother had.

Nevertheless, he admitted to himself that the absence of the box was...affecting him.

He was so intent on dissecting and attempting to subjugate that unwanted emotion that he barely heard the knock on his office door.

A heavy tread of footsteps halted somewhere near the desk in his vast office. Xandro didn’t turn around. He already suspected what was coming.

‘He’s gone, sir.’ The news was weighted with wary apprehension.

Despite the neon lights of the Las Vegas Strip flashing outside his fiftieth floor window, his world turned a very dark and stormy grey.

The heart most people questioned whether he possessed clenched, almost defiantly questioning whether he deserved it to beat again after taking his eye off his prize.

Truth be told, he’d rarely looked at the necklace lately. The legacy of hardship and heartbreak it’d brought his mother was imprinted on his heart for ever, just like the backbreaking grind he’d endured to drag himself from the clutches of the gang was stamped within his psyche.

Nevertheless, the ruby necklace was part of his DNA. Which made its loss unacceptable.

Fists clenched, he whirled around. ‘Who is he and where has he gone?’ The words felt like crushed glass scraping his throat raw.

‘A senior security guard, sir. Benjamin Woods. He passed all the security tests for senior staff and, as per the company policy, we supplied him with a pass to this floor.’

‘When did you grant him a pass?’

‘A month ago, sir,’ Archie Preston, his security chief, confirmed.

Xandro’s nails bit into his palms. ‘So he’s had a month to plan this?’

‘Yes,’ came the hesitant answer.

‘How did he do it?’

‘The cameras show him escorting the last VIP guest to their suite at four a.m. Then he took the elevator to this floor. He was seen leaving your office fifteen minutes later with a rucksack. He walked straight out of the hotel, and took one of the taxis out front.’

Xandro forced himself to exhale. And to wait. There was more.

‘We tracked down the taxi driver,’ Archie continued. ‘Woods only went three blocks before he asked to be dropped off. The driver says he took off down one of the side streets.’

‘He knew we would track the cab so he used it long enough to throw us off his scent?’

Preston nodded. ‘We’re monitoring the airports and bus terminals—’

‘Enlighten me as to how that will help in any way, Mr Preston, when he’s already had a thirteen-hour head start?’ he snapped.

‘I can only offer my profuse apologies, Mr Christofides. And my promise that wherever he’s disappeared to, my men and I will find him.’

Xandro forced his fingers to unclench. He had to or risk smashing his fist into something unyielding. Like the nearest wall. The need to check the safe again one last time pulled at him. But his need not to feel that gut-wrenching loss again was even greater.

It was gone. But he wasn’t going to rest until he had it back in his possession.

‘I don’t doubt that you will. We know how he gained access to my office but not how he knew the code to my safe. However, the most important question now is: how do we find him before he gets round to hawking my property?’

Archie frowned, and scratched his nape.

‘If you give me the green light, I’ll hire a dozen PIs tonight to start a manhunt—’

‘You can do that. Or you can find me everything you can on Benjamin Woods, and every member of his family.’

‘I...if you don’t mind my asking, what good will that do?’ Archie asked cautiously.

Xandro afforded himself a mirthless smile. ‘Because family will always remain a man’s weakness—especially a broken one.’ The threat to his own mother had nearly brought him to his knees once upon a time. It’d been the wake-up call he’d needed to turn his life around, to protect the one person most important to him. He’d never needed to use a man’s family as leverage against him the way it was done to him, but then no one had dared to take something this precious from him either.

Xandro intended Benjamin Woods to pay for his crime and he’d use whatever means necessary. Family was as effective a tool as they came. ‘A family that breeds a thief is sure to be a damaged one. So point me in the direction of Benjamin Woods’s family. I’ll take it from there.’

Archie retreated after more solemn assurances, and Xandro strolled to the window of the office, housed in the most successful hotel and casino chain in the world. He flexed his fingers as his gaze tracked the many neon lights and excess-seeking humanity spread at his feet.

He hadn’t come this far, clawed himself out of danger and poverty and distanced himself from his family’s disgrace, only to lose the one thing that had helped fuel his ambition and success.

He knew it didn’t take much for a family to fracture and break. He intended to exploit his thief’s every weakness until he had the necklace back where it belonged.

CHAPTER TWO

THE RHYTHMIC SLAP of feet on the floor was in perfect time with the music. Well...almost perfect. Few people would’ve caught the lag, but Xandro heard it after a handful of seconds.

He’d had pathetically little as a boy—a legacy of disgrace and debt, and a life spent clawing his way out of that hellhole had seen to that—but he’d always had music.

When his grandmother had succumbed to her weak heart in their sorry excuse for a hovel in the Bronx, his mother had taken up the tradition. His day had started with his mother’s renditions of her favourite singer, Maria Callas, and ended with haunting operettas of long-dead composers. Xandro knew every great tenor and soprano, dead or alive.

He’d grown up watching endless black and white opera films borrowed from the library, and the amateur ballet footage of his own mother that his grandparents had managed to pack in their suitcase before they’d boarded the boat to New York with their pregnant eighteen-year-old daughter: the daughter with the beautiful voice and dreams of ballet that had been ruthlessly crushed by those who’d wielded more power and ambition than she had.

That bittersweet memory was the reason Xandro knew the performer was a millisecond behind the beat of the music.

But music or dance wasn’t the reason he was here in Washington, DC.

The room was in semi-darkness, the only beam of illumination centred on the dancer on the stage. The auditorium was large, but only a handful of people occupied the chairs. He tracked them one by one, his mood plummeting when each one failed to reveal his quarry.

He’d flown thousands of miles to find Sage Woods, sister of the thief who’d stolen his most prized possession. Archie hadn’t had time to furnish him with an up-to-date picture of her. The only one in Xandro’s possession had been taken over ten years ago when the girl was a mere fourteen years old.

But even then her flawless face and vibrant red hair had been arresting enough to make her stand out in any crowd. So, unless she’d changed drastically, she should be easy to spot.

He ignored the few searching looks as he stepped to one side, waiting for the room to empty of both dancer and patrons before reaching into his jacket for his phone.

Archie had redeemed himself by locating Sage Woods in Washington, DC, in record time. But Xandro wasn’t in a particularly forgiving mood.

More than what the necklace represented to him, he was reminded of what it’d also meant to his mother, and the joy on her face whenever she’d worn it—on his graduation; on the night he’d taken her to dinner when he’d signed the papers on his first hotel.

Bright moments in an otherwise dismal past that weren’t unwelcome, but nevertheless deepened his sense of loss.

On top of the memories he was grappling with, the current deal he was working on had stalled suddenly. Had he been superstitious, he would’ve attributed it to the theft of the necklace...

It didn’t help that Archie had confessed that Woods had gained the code to Xandro’s safe by hacking the security chief’s computer.

Xandro had bypassed Woods’s parents in Virginia in favour of flying straight to DC from Las Vegas. Besides his instincts telling him he would get more traction with the sister than with the parents, the work colleagues Archie had interviewed had reported he frequently mentioned his sister, the dancer.

About to press the phone to his ear to double check Sage Woods’s whereabouts from Archie, he paused as a figure clad in a black leotard and matching tights emerged from the wings and walked onto the stage.

Her flame-red hair gave her away immediately, despite it being piled on top of her head in a messy knot. But the slim figure in the picture on his phone had undergone a girl-to-woman transformation destined to stop most red-blooded males in their tracks.

Xandro froze in place, his breath trapped in his lungs as he got a first real-life view of Sage Woods.

Her long, elegant neck tapered to shoulders that were slim but perfectly sculpted. Sleek, well-toned arms swung gracefully as she walked with light, measured steps.

Her posture was exquisite, her spine straight as she moved to the centre of the stage. The moment she turned to fully face the empty seats, Xandro felt a powerful, primitive tug to his groin. He was too busy taking in her remaining features to shove the unwanted sensation aside. His phone forgotten, he continued to stare at the statuesque beauty, absently wondering when he’d last stopped long enough to appreciate such an exquisite creature.

The world he lived in provided him with an endless array of both natural and artificial beauty. But most of it came primped, polished and packaged for maximum attention-seeking effect. The woman standing before him, believing herself to be alone, wore not a single scrap of make-up, jewellery or even shoes. And yet he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He let his gaze drop to her trim waist, the feline, feminine flare of her hips, the strong, toned thighs and the long, shapely legs and delicate ankles.

As he watched, she pulled a tiny MP4 player out of her waistband. Head lowered, her forehead was caught in a tiny frown as she unwound the string of the earbuds and placed one in each ear.

Xandro slowly folded his arms as she secured the gadget to her arm. He frowned with displeasure and wondered whether it was because her means of supplying the music was impractical or because he felt robbed of the ability to hear it.

Neither was enough to distract him from observing her though. Witnessing the moment she went from completely still to an explosion of movement so captivating, his arms dropped and his breath stalled in his lungs.

Xandro stood, entranced by the power and control of her motions that could only be achieved by years of dedicated training.

He wasn’t aware of how much time passed as he watched her, wasn’t aware of the sensation flooding his mouth until he was forced to swallow before doing something unseemly, like drool.

When his lungs screamed with the need for oxygen he finally took a heavy breath. Shook his head to clear the haze threatening to take it over.

He hadn’t reached the level of astronomic success he’d never even dared to dream of without paying attention to the minutiae. With his focus on finding her and extracting the whereabouts of her brother, he’d only cursorily paid attention to the form of dance Benjamin Woods’s sister specialised in. Now it came to him in a flash. She was a contemporary dancer with a ballet background.

Some of her movements reminded him of his mother’s dancing. The rare times Xandro had managed to convince her to give in to the music she loved, she’d exhibited a talent that had taken his breath away.

Of course, those moments had been very few and far between, the reality of their harsh existence a dark, oppressive presence. It was why he’d treasured those moments.

The unique combination of both forms of art manifested in incredible movement as Sage danced to the music only she could hear. Music he himself yearned to hear. If only to judge for himself that it matched her rhythm.

Nothing else.

Because he couldn’t possibly wonder what sort of music was making her move so beautifully, so sensuously. Whether his mother would’ve liked it—

‘Excuse me? Can I help you?’

He stiffened, more than a little irritated that he’d been so absorbed in his thoughts that he’d hadn’t realised she’d stopped. That he had moved from the shadows of the doorway to the dimly lit front row and even now stood staring up at her.

Irritation grew to annoyance. He was here for one reason only, and it wasn’t to be spellbound by a stranger’s performance.

‘Are you Sage Woods?’ He heard the snap in his voice and felt zero remorse for it.

He was close enough to see her tense, to catch her eyes flick over him as she pulled the earbuds from her ears, draping them around her neck as she made up her mind whether he was friend or foe.

‘That depends,’ she answered eventually in a firm, husky voice.

‘On what?’

‘On who’s asking. And on you telling me what you’re doing here,’ she replied.

He pushed away the stirring effect of her voice on his irritated senses. ‘This is a dance company, not a secret government facility. I don’t require special permission to be here.’

Full lips pursed. ‘This is a private session, booked and paid for by me. There’s a sign above the door that says “No audience allowed”.’

He shrugged. ‘Your security must be lax then, since here I am.’

Her tension mounted. Her gaze moved from him to the door and back again. ‘You’re wearing a three-piece suit and a frown that says someone’s kicked mud onto your favourite shoes. So unless you’re here to audition for grumpy CEO in a Broadway show, you’re in the wrong place. And before you get any ideas about making something up, trust me, I know all the auditions taking place in the school for the next three months. You don’t belong here. Leave before I call Security.’

In another circumstances he would’ve admired her spunk. ‘Are you always this suspicious of strangers?’

‘Yes.’

‘And why is that, Miss Woods?’

Eyes he wasn’t sure were green or grey flicked over him once again before she raised her chin. ‘Aren’t you being a little presumptuous? I haven’t said I am who you think I am.’

‘Deny that you are and I’ll leave,’ Xandro challenged.

‘We both know that’s not true.’

‘Do we?’

Her eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You don’t seem to be the kind of person to take no for an answer since you’re still here, eating into my training time.’