Seducing the Secret Heiress (10 page)

‘You know what, Jasper? You haven't seen anything yet.' With every word, her confidence soared. With Gabe watching, she really believed she could do anything.

‘So what's your pet name for this?' Jasper asked holding up her mortar and pestle.

‘Sorry, their names are X-rated,' she said, with a seductive smile.

Jasper's eyebrows shot up his forehead. ‘Come on, Charlie.'

Charlie shook her head but asked Jasper to come close. She leaned and whispered the names in his ear.

He roared with laughter and turned to the camera.

‘Sorry, folks.' He put the implements down with exaggerated care. ‘These are just too hot to handle.'

‘Cut. Brilliant,' Gabe said, laughing over the intercom.

Several contestants joined in the loud applause.

Gabe gave her a smile that sent her pulse racing. ‘Come on, Charlie, what do you call them?' he cajoled through the intercom.

She waggled her finger teasingly at him. ‘That would be telling. It's always important to maintain some mystery.'

‘Okay, mystery girl, you win this time. Set up the next shot, please.'

Jasper and the cameramen walked over to the next station, but Charlie could still feel Gabe's eyes on her. He leaned back in his chair, a slow, secret smile spreading across his face.

‘I don't know,' Charlie answered, laughing at Gabe's question as they drove back from the studio later that day. She'd blitzed the first episode. The challenge had been to cook a dessert from a mystery box of ingredients. She'd delivered ten perfect portions of poached pear cheesecake topped with dark chocolate shavings in record time.

‘No, really,' he said. ‘From a teary mess to blowing the judge's taste buds right through the roof.' He glanced at her before entering the choked tangle of the enormous Hammersmith roundabout.

You. It was all you.

‘I don't know, really,' she insisted.

His face broke into a brilliant grin. ‘Well, whatever the reason, it's going to make great television.'

Charlie's heart danced as she admired Gabe's perfect profile. Being around Gabe made everything bright, shining, wonderful.

Maybe I could just stay Charlie Brown.

She held her breath, waiting for the thought to dissipate.

It didn't.

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the idea from her mind. But it clung persistently at the periphery of her brain.

‘You only have to rank about the middle of the audience scores and you'll probably still win the round,' Gabe said.

Charlie forced herself to focus on Gabe's voice.

‘Really?' She frowned. ‘So just explain to me again how it works. I've been too nervous to really think about the technical details.'

‘Okay. So your meals are winging their way to Paris, New York or Sydney. First-class passengers are tucking into one of your desserts right now.'

Unease chipped at her confidence. Charlie bit her lip.

‘The first show will air this Sunday night,' Gabe continued. ‘The voting lines will open at the end of the show and will stay open for twenty-four hours.'

‘Right.'

‘We start filming the next episode on Tuesday. The audience scores from the previous week will be added to the judges' scores and the lowest-ranked contestant will be asked to leave the show that night. After ten rounds, we'll have a winner.'

‘It's so brutal. Those people are so nice.'

‘That's what makes great television. The audience gets to know the contestants. Then they start backing their favourites.'

Charlie sank into the leather car seat. Would anyone cheer for her?

Gabe pulled the vehicle to a stop at a zebra crossing.

Suddenly Charlie couldn't help herself. A flood of gratitude welled up inside her. She leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek.

‘What was that for?'

‘Everything.' For the first time in her life she understood the expression ‘blissfully happy.' Gabe had made that possible.

Gabe laughed. ‘I think I've got the better end of the deal. My house is immaculate. My sister's being looked after and thanks to you, I could have the best-rating show I've ever produced.' He reached over and rubbed her knee. ‘I'm so glad we met that day.'

Her heart fluttered as a fire smouldered between her thighs.

‘Me too,' she whispered.

Perhaps she never needed to go home. Never needed to be Charlotte Wentworth again. There was nothing in Australia for her. She gazed over at Gabe. And everything right here.

Gabe watched Charlie settle herself on his couch and pull a rug over her lap. She noticed the front cover of a magazine, her image plastered all over the cover. She looked away quickly.

As predicted, the nation had fallen in love with the plucky little Aussie cook. Five episodes in and the show had already pulled record viewer numbers.
First-Class Chef
had even knocked off a couple of Britain's top shows.

He snatched up the bowl of popcorn she'd prepared and began munching at the buttery white kernels. She looked so cute all cuddled up.

‘Hey, give me some of that,' she said.

Gabe dropped down on the couch beside her and pulled some of the rug onto his lap.

‘You cater for everything, don't you?' he said, diving into the bowl and pulling out a handful.

‘I'm beginning to think I might be over-indulging. Having free rein in the kitchen is dangerous.'

He sat back and looked her at her, baffled. ‘Didn't you cook this much at home?'

Her cheeks pinked as her eyes darted from his. This always happened when he asked about her life in Australia.

‘Ah, with the show – I'm cooking and tasting a lot more than usual.'

The theme tune of
First-Class Chef
began to play. He nudged her shoulder. ‘It's on.'

They'd shot thirty hours of film that week and it had taken them four days to edit. Charlie had been the standout. Everything they'd shot of her – superb.

When he'd completed the rough cut, they'd been four minutes over and Charlie had dominated the show. The rest of the edit team wanted to cut other contestants, but Gabe had insisted on eliminating some of Charlie's scenes. He worried his that his bias influenced the content.

Charlie wriggled on the seat next to him.

‘Still nervous after so many weeks?' he asked.

‘Terrified.'

As the hour-long program aired, Charlie agitated next to him. He'd never met such a reluctant and highly self-critical contestant. She cringed each time she featured.

His mobile buzzed during the commercial break. He glanced at the name displayed.

‘Abigail. How are we going?'

‘The first half-hour numbers are in and they're wild.'

‘Tell me.'

‘We've hit six million – twenty-four percent of the market. We're blitzing this time slot.'

His heart rocketed in his chest as he sprang up. ‘Incredible. Ring me when you have the final numbers. Thanks. Bye.'

He clicked off, then reached forward and hauled Charlie to her feet.

‘We're number one in the slot.'

‘That's wonderful,' she said.

Charlie's eyes sparkled. She looked so adorable in her pink tracksuit and matching ugg boots. Adorable and super sexy. He'd never known anyone make a tracksuit look so damn hot.

A blast of theme music brought him back to earth.

‘We're back,' he said, pulling her down again. Even with the biggest success of his career playing out before him, he found it hard to concentrate with Charlie's warm body nestled so close to his.

The tension mounted through the show, perspiration showing on the foreheads of many contestants. Some made simple mistakes with their preparations. Though he'd seen the package many times, Gabe sat on the edge of his seat.

Charlie could barely stay in hers. She called out encouragement and commiserated when others made a mess of things.

‘Poor Henry, I didn't know he'd burnt his orange sauce.'

‘Watch it, Emma, that pan's boiling over,' she called at the television.

Gabe smiled. This was a competition, yet Charlie cheered the others on.

The show drew to a close and although they both knew the results already, he could feel Charlie tense with anticipation. She'd tied in first place with Tim, the IT guy from Manchester.

The show finished and he switched the TV off. Charlie looked up at him with expectant eyes.

‘Well?' she asked.

‘I think this is going to be big,' he said in a low voice. ‘Really big.'

His phone buzzed again. ‘Abigail.'

‘Seven million,' she said simply. ‘Congratulations.'

Speech eluded him for a moment. It was his best result yet and there were still five episodes to go. ‘Couldn't have done it without you, kid,' he said and clicked off. He'd broken his own record of five million.

‘Seven million,' he said.

‘Is that good?' Charlie asked.

‘Put it this way, the most watched show ever in British television history was around thirty million and we still have weeks until the final.'

Charlie stood and held out her hand. ‘Congratulations.'

‘To hell with that,' he said, gathering her into his arms. ‘If it weren't for you, this show wouldn't exist.'

Her soft curves moulded against him. The aroma of popcorn clung deliciously to her hair. He breathed deeply, pulling her closer. The desire to lie her down on the couch and cover her with his body threatened to overwhelm him.

The doorbell shrilled. The noise brought common sense slamming back into his body and his brain.
Damn.
He dropped his arms from Charlie's luscious body.

Gabe stepped back. Charlie was off limits.

The sharp sound echoed again.

If it rings again, I'll rip the bloody thing off the wall.

Charlie sank back on the couch. She snuggled in the warmth left by Gabe's body.

She ran her hand down her chest, hoping to keep the luscious essence of Gabe alive. The memory of his arms around her body lingered deliciously.

She heard the front door open.

‘Gabe. Darling.' A posh female voice filtered into the room. ‘Wonderful to catch you at home. So lovely to see you. I've missed you.'

‘Sophie. What in hell's name are you doing here?' Gabe asked.

‘Can't an ex drop by for a nightcap?' the woman purred.

Ex!
Charlie bristled.

‘No.'

‘Oh, don't be ridiculous, darling.'

Charlie heard high heels click on the entry hall tiles.

A tall, immaculately dressed woman swept into the room. Gabe followed with a face that could have turned Medusa to stone. Everything about the newcomer screamed serious wealth. Six-inch Jimmy Choos, Prada handbag and this season's Balmain military jacket. Although Charlie used to dress in a similar way, she had never looked as sophisticated as this incredibly striking woman.

The visitor stopped abruptly when she laid her eyes on Charlie. An ugly frown savaged her otherwise beautiful, yet slightly severe-looking, face. She looked disturbingly familiar. Diamonds flashed at the woman's throat and sparkled on her ears. Diamonds from the recently launched Rare Pink collection. Over twenty thousand dollars dangled from her ears alone. An icy chill ran the length of Charlie's body.

Wentworth diamonds!

‘Who's this?' Sophie asked with an arctic sneer and a dismissive flick of her hand. ‘Not replacing me already are we? Or are you staff?' She threw the question in Charlie's direction as she looked down her nose.

With horror, the penny dropped – Sophie Eddington-Smythe.

Charlie looked away, not daring to expose her face for another second. How had she not been recognised? The new hair and cheap clothes obviously helped.

Why was Sophie Eddington-Smythe in Gabe's living room? They'd met once, years ago at the London launch of the Brilliant Yellow diamond range. If memory served, her father owned half of Cornwall or Devon or somewhere like that.

‘Charlie, this is Sophie.'

Why would Gabe date a woman like this? Charlie didn't know much about Sophie, but what she'd heard wasn't good. The English aristocracy's answer to Paris Hilton. She courted the paparazzi, tweeting her location so she would always be surrounded by photographers. She'd even featured on some reality television . . .

Of course. Gabe's show,
Billionaire Angels.

‘Hi,' Charlie said, keeping her eyes down as she busied herself with straightening the already perfectly placed coffee-table books. She sensed Sophie's steely gaze and an instant dislike struck like a hammer.

‘Cup of tea would be nice,' Sophie said finally, taking a seat.

Charlie jumped to her feet, grateful for the excuse to leave the room.

‘Sit down, Charlie. Sophie's just leaving,' Gabe said.

‘Oh darling, I've just arrived.' Sophie sat, making herself comfortable. ‘Be civil.'

Charlie didn't know what to do. Leave the room or sit down as instructed? Sophie's eyes followed her every move.

‘Where's that tea?' Sophie said finally, then shot a brilliant smile to Gabe.

Charlie almost ran from the room.

‘Charlie,' Gabe called. ‘Come back.'

But she was determined to remain out of sight for the rest of Sophie's visit.

Once she reached the kitchen, she breathed her panic away. Surely Sophie wouldn't recognise her. She glanced down. She wore none of the trappings that alerted other rich people to the depth of her wealth. And, she was completely out of context. No-one knew she lived in London.

She fiddled with her short, dyed hair. Would it be enough?

Charlie heard the raised voices coming from the living room. She made tea quickly. As much as she didn't want to face Sophie again, she wanted to hear what was being said.

Charlie assembled a tea tray and tiptoed down the hall. She waited for a break in the conversation.

‘Why the hell are you here anyway?' Gabe asked, his voice as hard as granite.

‘Just came to congratulate you on the success of
First-Class Chef
. All those headlines. Nice work.'

‘Next time, leave a message with my assistant.'

‘But you know I'm only round the corner. So much nicer to deliver the message in person.' The words slipped out so smoothly but with distinctively sinister undertones.

‘What do you really want?' Gabe demanded.

‘To pitch another idea of course,' Sophie said.

‘Not interested.'

‘Where's that tea?' Sophie whined again.

Charlie heard the woman stand up and walk towards the hall. She'd be caught eavesdropping. Holding the tray, she stepped quickly into the room. Sophie's eyes darted maliciously to Charlie's face, a look of concentration marring her aristocratic beauty.

‘Have we met before?' she asked as if such a thing couldn't actually be possible.

‘No, I don't think so,' Charlie said lightly, sliding the tray onto the coffee table.

‘I don't know. I'm very good with faces.'

‘
First-Class Chef
,' Gabe cut in with disdain, as if Sophie were the worst kind of fool.

‘I know that, Gabriel. I'm not stupid thank you, darling.' Sophie waltzed right up to Charlie to inspect her. ‘You look different on television.'

‘Yes, well, that's all very interesting, Sophie, but it's time you were leaving.'

‘Why don't you just hear me out?' Sophie said, her voice dripping with mock indignation. ‘Could be the next big thing,' she said, stepping close to Gabe and running her finger provocatively down his chest.

Charlie crushed a strong urge to ‘accidentally' douse that expensive jacket with a cup of tea.

Gabe took Sophie's hand from his chest and dropped it. ‘If you're involved, I'm not interested.'

‘Ouch.' Sophie dramatically clutched her breast as if she'd been shot. ‘Darling, you're so cruel. Remember I put you on the map. Without me, you'd still be making second-rate cereal commercials.'

Gabe's body stiffened and his eyes burned with fury. ‘Time to go,' he said, his tone steady and dangerous. He placed a hand in the small of Sophie's back and pushed her none too subtly towards the door. He was only just holding his temper in check.

Sophie pulled herself from his grip and whirled back to Charlie.

‘I know you from somewhere,' she said. Her statement sounded like a warning.

‘I doubt it, until a few weeks ago, I lived in Brisbane,' Charlie said, trying desperately to keep her voice steady.

‘Brisbane? Never heard of it,' Sophie said, as if the place were not worth knowing. ‘But I never forget a face.'

Gabe gripped Sophie's wrist. ‘This way, darling,' he said, drawing out the last word in a mocking tone.

When they disappeared into the hall, Charlie expelled a long, slow breath. She slumped onto the couch.

The front door opened and Sophie's protests died as the door banged shut.

‘Sorry about that,' Gabe said when he strode back into the room.

‘It's okay. She's your ex. I guess they pop up from time to time.'

‘At least yours is conveniently on a different continent,' he said, his lips tight with emotion.

‘Hmm.' The reference to Paul instantly made her uncomfortable.

Gabe lapsed into deep thought for a moment. ‘Have you ever done something in your life that, when you look back, you can't believe you'd been so stupid?'

My whole life was stupid until I met you.

But as the question was rhetorical, she didn't answer.