by Maya Blake
‘You mean I can start counting down my fifteen minutes of unwanted fame?’ she asked hopefully.
‘However long we spend together depends entirely on you acing your performance. Try the wine, Sage. It’s very good,’ he drawled.
She wanted to refuse. But a sudden urge to prove that she wasn’t always as disagreeable as he claimed nudged her hard. Plus, although she rarely drank, tonight she needed the fortification of alcohol to stop her from doing something stupid. Like running her tongue over her still tingling lips to see if the lingering taste of his kiss was as potent as her senses proclaimed. With hands that hadn’t quite regained their steadiness, she picked up her glass and took a sip.
She had no idea of the vintage of the wine, but the gorgeous bouquet exploding on her taste buds was enough to invite another sip. And another.
His gaze cut into her. ‘Easy, pethi mou. You barely touched your lunch and according to the butler you didn’t have anything to eat in my absence. I’d rather not have you tipsy before the first course arrives.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Why, because you’re scared I’ll misbehave?’ she challenged.
‘I think I’ve already found a curative measure for any misbehaviour on your part. I was thinking more along the lines of answering a few of your questions.’
A little surprised, she set her glass down and toyed with the stem. ‘If you were going to answer them anyway, then why did you...?’
‘Kiss you? You can say it, Sage. It’s not a bad word.’
Tell that to my body. ‘Fine, why did you kiss me?’
He shrugged. ‘I wasn’t sure whether I wanted my life pried into just yet.’
‘And now?’
‘For the sake of authenticity, I’ve decided it wouldn’t hurt for us to know a thing or two about each other. So, to answer your earlier question, no, I don’t have family remaining. Anywhere.’
Something about the way he said that made her heart lurch a little.
She might be estranged from her parents but she couldn’t imagine them not being there. She couldn’t imagine being alone in the world, even though for the most part of the last three years it’d felt as if she was. She glanced at Xandro, further questions burning on her tongue. ‘You said your family emigrated but...?’ She paused, unwilling to agitate the waters further.
‘What?’ he demanded.
‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but you used the word for want of a better one?’
His jaw flexed for a moment and he took a large sip of wine before he shrugged. ‘Perhaps because emigrated sounds more civilised than cast out.’
Shock spiked through her. ‘What?’
‘You heard me. My grandparents and my mother were cast out of their home and the only life they’d known. They had little choice but to board the boat that took them to New York. The rest is history.’
His words were casual, offhand even. Except she knew there was a lifetime’s consequence of that history bubbling beneath the surface. As she watched his harshly beautiful face, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been entirely shaped by whatever had happened to his family. Or whether the harshness had come afterwards.
Before she could probe further, two waiters approached and set their first course in front of them. Her wild mushroom salad with truffle oil was delicious but Xandro’s seafood platter looked mouthwatering.
Her delicately growling stomach prompted her to suppress the question darting around her mind and pick up her cutlery. They ate in silence for a brief spell. Until he speared a fat shrimp with his fork and offered it to her. ‘Here, try this.’
The intimacy of the action forced her to shake her head immediately. ‘No, thanks. I don’t—’
‘You’re in one of the most spectacular cities of the world. Your lover is offering you a morsel from his plate. Are you really going to refuse me? Especially when you’ve been eyeing my plate since our food arrived. Denying yourself for the sake of your principles is only admirable up to a point. Then it becomes tedious. Not to mention I’m in fear of the double blow to my ego of having my gesture refused in front of our audience.’
She glanced from his face to the delectable morsel poised an inch from her mouth, then to the diners surrounding them, who seemed absolutely absorbed in what was happening at their table.
The smoky aroma of the grilled shrimp coupled with a hint of lemon hit her nostrils, mercilessly teasing her taste buds. Before she could think of another reason to refuse, she parted her lips and accepted the offering. And barely managed to stop herself from moaning at the exquisite flavours that suffused her senses.
‘Not so bad, was it?’ Xandro asked.
She chewed. Swallowed. Then picked up her glass of wine and sipped. ‘No. It was delicious.’
A slight hitch of his brow said her easy agreement had surprised him.
She licked the lingering trace of wine and grilled shrimp from her bottom lip, and saw his eyes darken as he followed the action. An increasingly familiar little charge of electricity descended on the table again as she finished her meal.
When the waiter came to clear their plates, Xandro again made a recommendation for their main course. This time she nodded her agreement. When she refused a refill of her wine, he set the bottle back in the bucket.
They didn’t exchange conversation and, for the first time since Xandro had walked into her life, the atmosphere between them didn’t crackle with animosity and suspicion. In fact, she’d managed to take the first full breath in his presence when he once again directed those incisive eyes on her.
‘Why are you estranged from your parents?’
The easiness evaporated. Her stomach tightened, armouring itself against the pain the question brought. Besides Ben, Xandro was the only one who had an inkling of what had driven her from home three years ago. She didn’t want to discuss it with the formidable man seated next to her. But he’d answered her questions, despite his clear reluctance. And, as absurd as it sounded—or perhaps it was the wine talking—that brief insight into his past had lifted a veil of mystery from him, making him seem, if not accessible, less daunting.
When the refusal that rose on her lips withered and died, Sage told herself he already knew almost everything about her parents. Elaborating on why wouldn’t give him any more ammunition against her. Not everything though. The parts that hurt the most she intended to keep to herself.
‘Havenwoods has been in my father’s family for generations, and it’s been run by my ancestors since it was built. My parents planned Ben’s and my life around managing it when we were still kids. When I turned thirteen I told them I had no intention of following the family tradition. At first they didn’t believe I was serious. When they realised that my dancing wasn’t just an extra-curricular way to pass the time they weren’t happy but they still thought it was a phase I would grow out of.’ Her shrug felt painful, but she’d started the story so she pushed on. ‘Things came to a head a few years ago. I told them I was moving to DC to try out for the Hunter Dance Company programme. They told me if I left I would be disinherited and never welcomed back.’
His eyes narrowed a little but his attention didn’t waver from her face. ‘They tried to use your family legacy to control you?’
‘You mean—did they blackmail me like you’re doing?’ she bit out, a little of her pain spilling over onto him.
His head went back as if her words had physically struck him. His gaze swept down and fixed on his wineglass, but he didn’t respond.
She took a moment to breathe through the anguish twisting like a live wire inside her. To get her runaway emotions under control. ‘My father flew out to see me a few months later to tell me that he and my mother were willing to take me back if I’d come to my senses. That was three years ago.’
He raised his gaze, and his expression was neutral. ‘You haven’t spoken to them since?’
She couldn’t quite pull off another shrug. ‘I’m still a dancer. I have no intention of changing that to a pencil skirt and silk blouse, an
d riding a desk any time soon.’
A hint of a smile played around his lips. ‘Unless your role calls for it, when I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion.’
The words weren’t charged in any way, except maybe in her overactive imagination. But the silence that followed changed from a somewhat stilted sharing of information into something else. Something that made his eyes gleam and her heart rate pick up an uncomfortable speed once more. The sizzle in her belly sparked to life and Sage couldn’t quite catch her breath as his gaze continued to hold hers.
‘Have they ever seen you dance?’ he asked after a minute had passed.
‘One amateur production years ago. They asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I asked them to come and see me. They turned up for the last half hour of the show.’
He drained the last of his wine, a look of distaste filling his eyes. ‘They’ve deliberately blinded themselves to your talent. It’s their loss.’
‘I wish it wasn’t,’ she said before she could stop herself.
‘The only way to make your reality different is to change it. Wishing is a waste of time.’ The words were spoken with harsh, unshakable determination that spoke of personal experience.
‘Is that what you did? Changed your reality?’ She pounced on the statement, eager to sidestep the more painful subject of her estrangement with her parents.
His lips firmed. Then he gave her a tight smile. ‘Perhaps this isn’t the right time to play the get-to-know-one-another game, after all.’
Disappointment spiked her. ‘It was your idea. It’s fine if you’ve changed your mind.’
Silver eyes narrowed faintly. ‘Are you attempting to reverse psyche me, Sage?’
She shook her head slowly. ‘No. Delving into the past isn’t always easy. Especially...’ She stopped, certain the wine was having way too much effect on her runaway tongue.
But he wasn’t ready to let it go. ‘Especially?’
This time her shrug was easier. ‘I read the history of your hotels in the suite. It hinted at your...darker past. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.’
Again he didn’t immediately respond. He drained his glass and set it down. Shook his head at the waiter when he approached. And when he spoke it was almost reluctant. ‘In my case changing reality didn’t stem from a wish to be different. It stemmed from necessity.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I was confronted with two paths in a difficult road. The easier path was to perform an act of betrayal that would’ve earned me the role of second lieutenant in a street gang—and it would also have ensured a very limited life expectancy.’
Her heart dropped at the calm way he spoke of such a volatile past. But, looking into his face, she glimpsed a savage expression that told her Xandro didn’t view the subject as lightly as his tone suggested. ‘And the other path?’ she asked, although she suspected she knew.
‘Clawing my way out of a dark hole with no flashlight while the same gang who wanted me now had a price on my head.’
Dear God. ‘The journey may have been difficult but surely the destination made it worth it? Most people can only dream of the success you’ve achieved.’
His mouth twisted with very little humour. ‘And some who grow tired of dreaming attempt to take advantage of it instead.’
And, just like that, the atmosphere shifted. Sage didn’t know whether he was deliberately stopping her from probing further into his past or whether he wanted to remind her why she was here.
She dropped her napkin on the table. ‘You don’t need to remind me why I’m here.’
He looked a touch puzzled for an instant before his face stiffened. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He followed suit and placed his napkin beside hers. Then he rose. ‘Since we seem to have used up our quota of exchanging life histories, we’ll take our nightcap on the terrace.’
He reached for the back of her chair, his tall imposing body bending towards hers. ‘I was thinking of going to bed,’ she hurriedly replied.
Only to receive a firm shake of his head. ‘Not yet. This restaurant isn’t renowned just for its great food. The management will be offended if we don’t take advantage of its other asset.’
She lifted a sceptical eyebrow. ‘The management? You mean you?’
‘Precisely. Come.’
A firm hand at her elbow accompanied the imperious command. Sage told herself she complied because it was the fastest route to getting what she wanted, which was away from him at the earliest possible opportunity. The evening hadn’t turned out at all how she’d expected, starting with that kiss and ending with Xandro Christofides revealing a fragment of a past she was sure no newspaper or magazine knew about. Because if they did it would already be widespread news.
Another reason for allowing him to take her arm and lead her towards a set of French windows was that she’d grown thoroughly tired of being the cynosure of all eyes.
She was thankful that she managed to remain composed as she walked beside Xandro. Onto the most beautiful terrace she’d ever seen, with potted palms and a view so spectacular her jaw dropped.
She’d thought the Acropolis by day was a sight to behold. But by night, thrown into beautiful relief by giant coloured spotlights, it was simply breathtaking. From this height, it looked close enough to touch. She leaned forward on the balcony, unable to take her eyes off the sight. ‘Oh. Wow. Xandro, that’s incredible.’
Then she gasped when she realised her mistake. She had no right to such familiarity. Nor could she let down her guard. She was here because he was blackmailing her. Sage started to turn around, away from the seductive view and from the broad-shouldered, powerfully built man behind her.
Her attempt to retreat was immediately thwarted when his arms braced either side of her, trapping her against the balcony. A moment later, he leaned close and whispered in her ear, ‘I like the way you say my name.’
Sage cursed the weakness that invaded her body, and pulled back abruptly. God, what was wrong with her? ‘What are you doing? You’ve made your point. Two dozen cameras have already recorded our...moment.’
‘A moment I would very much like to relive,’ he stated blatantly.
When her mouth dropped open in shock, his gaze latched onto her lips. Grey eyes grew turbulent and left her a little more breathless.
Get a grip!
She shook her head, even though her senses leaped wildly at the thought of kissing Xandro again. ‘Unless you’re trying to win a prize for overkill, I think we should leave well enough alone.’
‘On the contrary, I don’t think a thirty-second kiss was nearly long enough.’
Thirty seconds? It’d felt as if she’d been trapped in that sexually charged vortex for an eternity.
‘Let’s try for a full minute this time.’
Before she could respond, he’d captured her mouth in a hot, dominating kiss that left very little brain power to aid her. Just like before, everything else ceased to exist save for the sheer intoxication of what he was doing to her. He explored her mouth with effortless decadence. As if sampling the finest wine, drawing his tongue across her mouth with a lazy swipe before seeking entry. Entry she granted because she just couldn’t help herself. The secret place between her thighs plumped and tingled, a hunger taking root deep inside that had her clinging to him by the time he lifted his head.
‘I hate to stop, but our nightcap is here,’ he murmured against her mouth.
Sage quickly dropped her hands from where they’d clutched his neck. Xandro sent her a wicked look but didn’t comment as he turned away. It was only when he dropped one hand that she noticed the waiter setting a tray down on the bar table nearby and pouring the coffee. He then proceeded to lace an amber-coloured liqueur into the beverage.
Sage struggled to get herself back under control as Xandro nodded a dismissal at the waiter and picked up a cup.
‘What is that?’ she asked, simply in an attempt to dilute the sexually tense atmosphere.
God, what on earth had she been thinking?
‘Greek coffee with a lace of Metaxa. Try it.’ As he had at dinner, he held the cup to her lips.
Still on automaton mode because her senses were scattered to the wind, she met his dark, fierce gaze then took a sip of the drink.
Like everything she’d tasted this evening, it was a singularly thrilling experience. Which she needed to put an end to if she wanted to survive this minefield Xandro had dropped her into.
When he went to offer her another sip, she shook her head. ‘It’s great, but coffee makes me hyperactive so I think I’ll pass.’
He didn’t push. He knocked back the potent drink in one go and replaced the cup down in its saucer. He was about to step up to her again when his phone buzzed from his jacket pocket.
His gaze remained on her face, his eyes scrutinising her for goodness knew what. For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer it.
Then, eyes still fixed on her face, he reached into his jacket, took out his phone and swiped one long finger across the screen. Only then did he look at the sleek gadget in his hand.
The flare of his nostrils was the first sign that whatever news he’d received was far from pleasing. The second was the flexing of his jaw as he continued to scroll through the message.
Tense seconds ticked by.
Her nerves screeched until she couldn’t take it any more. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
He continued to stare at the screen. ‘It looks like our little PDA exercise has made it online,’ he relayed in a tight, grim voice.
‘That was the aim, wasn’t it?’ she asked, then chilled at the deeper meaning. ‘Is it Ben?’
‘Yes,’ he replied.
Her stomach dropped but she forced herself to speak. ‘Tell me.’
‘He dropped twenty thousand dollars at a Macau casino this evening,’ he explained in a voice rusty with anger.
Her chest tightened. ‘So he’s not reacting as you said he would.’
One finger powered off the phone and he slid it back in his pocket. ‘Wrong. The hotel and casino he went to is one I’m in the process of acquiring. It’s not a secret that the final stages of negotiations have been delicate lately. The financial media has been running the story for almost two weeks now. Your brother was heard making derogatory comments about me. He was loud and brash enough to get the attention of the management. And he made the point of asking for me by name even though he knows I’m not there. So I’d say he’s letting me know he’s unhappy about our involvement.’