His Mistress By Blackmail

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.

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